Hadima threw her head back and let out a single, wild laugh that was so uncharacteristic Iryana flinched. “Meleadthem? You were supposed to be trained as Third. You, not me.”
“That’s not true,” Iryana spit out. But shehadonce thought her grandmother was grooming her for the role. But she hadn’t yet turned ten when she was forced to leave the main house with her parents and younger sister. That expectation died soon after.
Hadima shook her head. “We all knew it. But you ran from it and so, no. There isn’t someone to lead the cousins through this.”
“That’s not fair.” Iryana’s hands trembled, but she hid them behind her skirts. “You just have to try. If you can get rid of more dakii or find a metal well—”
“How are we supposed to do in a single summer what the settlement has failed to do for years? The brigades will never let us into their territory, and the odds of finding an unclaimed well are hopeless.”
It sounded impossible to Iryana too. The exact location of the wells had always been a mystery. The pilgrimages led to nearby temples, and from there the unforged would be led to the wells blindfolded. It had never made sense how secretive it was, but knowledge meant power. The Elementi Conclave that ruledthe temples and the wells had a tight control over the forgings; giving that up would have meant giving up power. Now that the brigades held the metal wells, they clung to that power too.
But there had to be a way.
“If we turned one of their soldiers to our side, maybe…” Iryana trailed off, her mind spinning around the problem. The brigades sometimes took in initiates from outside their ranks; they would be less loyal than those raised with the groups. Could the clan bring one to their side?
“How?” Hadima stepped forward, that eager, angry look still on her face.
“I don’t know. You can find a way,” Iryana said quickly, her mind suddenly empty.
Hadima scoffed. “If we need to get more metal-forged, then why don’t you go?” she snapped. “I heard you were so chummy with that soldier out in the market. Have him take you to his well.”
Iryana recoiled with disgust, lips twisting into a sneer. “We were notchummy. He’s a rotten peddler, and I told him as much.”
Hadima’s eyes narrowed and Iryana knew her sister would not let it go so easily this time. When Iryana had first told her sisters that she was moving out at sixteen, shortly after taking her oaths as a guardian, Hadima had argued with her constantly. She had tried everything: calling her oaths into question, accusing her of not loving her family, of running from her mistakes instead of learning from them. Eventually, Hadima had realized that Iryana would not bend. It had been years since Iryana had seen that determined look in her eyes. If only her sister could redirect that stubbornness toward saving the post.
Iryana swallowed, bracing herself for Hadima’s words.
“You used to trick Aunt Emadya into thinking we were all ahead in our lessons, because you always seemed to know them and could recite it all back to her. She never figured it out, and we all got to play and run free those mornings.”
“That was a long time ago—”
“And when the dakii came to Klees,youled us through the fort.Youthrew rocks to distract the dakii when none of the guardians could get to us.Youare the reason we got out of there—at barely six years old.”
Memories of that day flooded back to Iryana.
Klees, their beautiful ancestral city in the low country, was under attack, only weeks before they had planned to fall back entirely, their belongings and the sick already sent upriver. The dakii came from nowhere, almost surrounding the city, with no way left to evacuate. Her family were guardians, so the people of Klees were their responsibility. Their duty and privilege. The Kleesolds had gone to hold off the dakii so the people could escape, losing two guardians that day. Iryana could remember hearing the screams from the city as she and the other young Kleesolds were tucked safely in their fortress, with only Uncle Dinhal left behind to protect them.
“Iryana?”
Except they weren’t safe, not when the dakii came for the fortress. Huddled up in Grandma Vesima’s study, holding the miniature practice staves and bows that they were starting to train with, they could hear the dakii trying to get in. It was a loud thud, thud, thud, that shook the stone as the dakii threw themselves at the great, braced door below.
The whole tower shook when the dakii collapsed the outer wall. A fine mist of rock blew under the door. Tonhald was only 14, but he had stood in front, clutching his staff even though his arms shook and tears ran down his face. Then Uncle Dinhal had screamed that he couldn’t get to them, the sound barely making its way to the room over the roar of the dakii and settling of stone.
A hand grabbed her arm and pulled Iryana back thirteen years into the current day. Hadima was staring at her, concern tugging at her features, and Iryana realized how much she looked like mother. They were both so beautiful. Elegant curved brows, soft jawline, and attentive gaze.
“You could help us.” Hadima sounded defeated, disappointed in Iryana already, but her hand squeezed tighter. “I know you struggle being around so many people, around us. But I also know your oaths areeverythingto you. You have a duty to us and our post. And it’s been years since Marisha was killed. Surely you can’t—”
Iryana stepped back, heart pounding, Hadima’s hand falling. They might think they wanted her help, but the second anything went wrong, they would turn their backs on her. A bit of anger leaked into her voice. “No, I can’t. But you know the cousins, they listen to you. Help them to stay.”
“Stay for what? To be in even more danger trying to actively kill the dakii? We can’t even forage the lower valley anymore, let alone go hunting.”
Hadima turned and roughly grabbed at one of the empty glass jars on one of the lower shelves. Her face was turned away, but it sounded like she was crying. Most of Iryana’s rage ran out, as it always did. As angry as she could be with her family sometimes, it never held up to her worry for them. Never held up to the fact that sheknewit wasn’t their fault.
Voice shaking, Hadima continued, “And I am out of so many things, I can’t even help Uncle Byorsh. I have no arrowhead, no cudweed, no Giant’s Wort. Teshya has already gathered up all the hemlock weeds from everyone’s gardens. I havenothing. He is suffering and I can’t do anything. I can’t ask the cousins to put themselves in that kind of danger.”
Iryana had never seen her sister so wild, so untethered. But what was the point of safety if it cost being ripped away from your family?
“But how can you all just give up?” she asked softly.
