I take a deep breath and open it. How many times have I found god-touched items hidden away in forgotten places of the world just like this?
There it is. My tattered black cloak. I pick it up, and without a moment’s hesitation, I put it on. The familiar weight in the hidden pockets gives me a sense of relief. I won’t be forced to go without my Infusions.
The ringing ends. The beads are mine, and just like every time, as soon as I have the item in my hands, the sound goes away. “That’s so much better,” I say.
Darian frowns. “It almost looked like you were hurting while you were in that closet.”
“Think about how it’d feel if someone was beating a bell right next to your ear. That’s what it’s like when I’m close. Some objects aren’t as annoying, but this one… This one was miserable.”
Hegets a thoughtful look on his face, but I ignore it. I want to get away from here. The last thing I want to do is have to explain why I’m in a secret room in a part of the castle no one would expect me to be in.
Darian stands beside me as I relock the hidden keyhole, and the wall slides back into place. I carefully place the key back where it was, matching its shape with the dust marks, before closing the lid and putting it back on the shelf I got it from.
Then we leave. It’s not until we’re crossing the yard between the walls of the castle to the main hall that Darian stops me. “I need to understand how you did that,” he says. “That’s not normal. I’ve never heard of anyone, much less a human, with the power to find things like that.”
I shrug just as I did before. “It’s not something I’ve put much thought into. Maybe it’s like you said. Maybe I’m Veris-touched. They say Veris and Taldor work their magic on people all the time for small things.”
He shakes his head. “No. I’d sense either of their effects.”
“What does it matter? I can do it. Isn’t that all that matters?” How am I supposed to figure out where that little oddity about me comes from?
He slowly shakes his head. “I don’t know. It’s magic. There’s no doubt about that, but if neither you nor your father knows, then I’m not sure how to learn more. It’s puzzling, and it feels important. It’s certainly more important than you seem to believe.”
I shrug my shoulders. “But it’s probably not as important as preparing for the trial. I’m sure that your sister would be furious to know we’ve been on a treasure hunt instead of training.”
Darian chuckles. He stares across the yard at the building we’re walking toward and gets a look on his face that reminds me of Bram’s when he talked about the old days. “I remember when Lee was just a normal High Fae. She and I used to play pranks on each other. And Cole, of course. She wasn’t the force of nature she is now. There wasn’t the weight of all the innocents in the world on her shoulders back then. She was just… she was just Lee, my sister.”
He sighs, and I see the mask he wears so instinctively fall away. There’s so much pain in those eyes. “We’ve seen so many terrible things over the years. We’ve failed so many times, but there’s nothing else to do other than carry on. You know how many people we help. You’ve seen the ones we’ve brought to Stormhaven and the rest of Sylvantia. Those are the best cases, the ones we think can thrive without help. We don’t bring you the permanently injured, the ones who have lost all their loved ones. We…”
He shakes his head as if he’s doing his best to keep himself from falling apart. I reach out and take his hand in mine. “It’s okay, Darian. I know that all of you are doing your best.”
“You don’t understand, Fi. You can’t. We save a lot of people, but every time I walk into a village and realize we were too late, I see them. The children torn apart by demons. The men and women whose bodies have been mutilated to create new abominations for the Corpsebinders. I’ve seen the pain they go throughwith my own eyes too many times. I’ve had to decide who to save and who to abandon. That pain… those failures don’t go away just because we save others. It never leaves. I’ve spent eighty years watching people who’ve done nothing wrong become the playthings for creatures that should never have been allowed to survive.”
He looks up at me and says, “We’re tired, Fi. Ainslee, Rhion, and myself. It’s not just our side either. There are starting to be deserters within the Godforged’s ranks, people who can’t take the fighting anymore and just want the simple lives they had before. Marriage, children, and little pleasures rather than death and training. They want to read books and watch the rain while they sit around a cozy fire instead of slaughter. We’re all so damned tired, and for the first time, there’s a possibility of a better future.
He lets out a soft sigh. “You could stop it all. That’s why we’re all so worried about making sure you’re safe and that you win.”
“I understand,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “You don’t. You can’t. But that’s fine. Maybe you understand and will trust a little more.”
“I’ll try. That’s all I can promise.”
He takes a deep breath, and it’s like I’m watching him physically put on the mask again. The tears he’d been on the verge of only moments ago are gone, and in their place is a smirk. “Good, then let’s go figure out how a group of misfits can somehow beat the strongest warriors in all of Nyth.”
Chapter 23
The twin Gods of Luck, Veris and Taldor, are said to ignore the workings of the rest of the gods. They have created no armies, have claimed no kingdoms. Yet, no one doubts their power. In the moments of greatest importance, Luck is often the only thing we can hope for.
~Cedric Penrose, A Treatise on the Gods and Their Powers
Fiona
I chug the cup of water and pour myself another. Sweat drips from my face as readily as it would on the training sands when Bram spent hours forcing my body to become harder and stronger than any typical human.
Every inch of my body tells me to go lie down, to recover from the pain. Scorch marks singe my cloak where Rurik and Erik played the enemy. There are gashes in the linen where their longswords had gotten past my defenses.
Unlike Bram, every time they’d gotten past my defenses, they’d stopped a hair’s breadth away from cutting my armor. No one knows about my Infusions or the leather plates that are harder than steel, and so they’re showing me problems without injuring me and forcing me to heal up for the next month rather than train.
