“I didn’t think anyone could kill him as long as he stayed out of an outright battle,” Rhion says softly. “He’s always been so clever, always at the right place at the right time. Even in the worst fights we ever fought, he never got overwhelmed. He was always one step ahead.”
Ainslee just stares at the table. He was her twin brother. “Why’d you use the lightning arrow?” she asks. “Was it adrenaline-fueled stupidity or something else?”
I shake my head slowly. “It wasn’t supposed to be a lightning arrow. All I needed was steel, and it was in the wrong side of the quiver.”
Her lips draw a thin line, but then she looks up. “He always said he’d die from bad luck, that every decision was a roll of the dice, and the only thing you could do was weight it in your favor as much as possible. Eventually, no matter how much weight, the dice would come up the wrong way.”
Rhion chuckles softly. “Even someone as Veris-touched as Darian had to meet Taldor, eventually. The rest of us live in that in-between land of normal, but your brother… I swear that man had convinced Veris herself to fall for him.”
Ainslee looks at her husband with tears in her eyes, but she smiles still. “He was lucky, wasn’t he? Do you remember what he was like before all of this?”
“He was an ass. I just wish we’d let the past be the past before the war. What a waste.”
Ainslee’s smile breaks some. “Do you know if Cole was watching?”
Rhion shakes his head slowly. “He and Maeve went back to Draenyth. They’ve gotten old in the past eighty years. They weren’t required to be here, and with Azric being around all the time, it’s even harder for them.”
“We’ll have to tell them,” Ainslee says with a sigh. “But that will happen tomorrow. I can’t deal with Maeve’s emotions right now. I just…”
And then the tears really begin, and Rhion hugs her tightly. He glances at me, and the expression is obvious.Go.
I quietly scoot my chair back and stand up. I cared for him, but I’m not his twin. I’m nobody. And no one can even know why I care that he died. He’s supposed to Return in a month, but he won’t.
Only Ainslee, Rhion, and I know that.
I don’t have a team any longer. I’m alone, competing against the only people who know my skills, in a way I haven’t been since I arrived at Castle Lachlan. The desire to run through the castle to find a place to hide and let out all the emotions inside me is overwhelming. I thought I’d found some semblance of family with Darian. I felt broken when I learned what Rhaskar had done, likeI’d never be able to trust anyone. He’d been there then. He’d turned my sadness into laughter. Now he’s gone, and I’m alone all over again.
But I can’t run and hide until Nyxthos shows.
So, I stand in a corner, my Priest’s cloak wrapped around me. I keep my head bowed, not wanting to talk to anyone. And I wait. Minutes pass, and I hear bits of conversation that I wish I could forget.
“They say she has powers she shouldn’t have…”
“…ahumankilled Serica Dramont? When she Returns, that girl had better hope she dies in the next trial.”
“Darian fucking Emlyn. What a legend. Who else would have thought to steal the flag from the tower rather than fight an unwinnable battle? How many people must have lost money on Serica? When he Returns, I’m buying him a drink just to hear him tell the story.”
Everyone’s conversations center on those two topics. Darian’s death and the surprise at a human surviving, much less killing Serica. And my arrows, of course. They’re happy. Laughter and smiles cross their faces, but they don’t understand. Darian’s not coming back.
Burn it all. It hurts to think about those three days. I felt like I had a group of people who were really with me. Not just Darian, but Jorren, Rurik, Elara, and even Isola. We trusted each other, and that’s what let us fight a superior group and win against the odds.
Now I’m alone.
Thankfully, I feel the now-familiar feeling of a god entering the space. This time, I don’t look at him. I don’t meet the terrible gaze that will allow him to see into my mind and memories. I don’t look at the glowing daggers or cloak that are so similar to my own. In fact, I close my eyes, and even in my mind’s eye, I know exactly what he looks like. I can imagine him perfectly as he slowly floats, spinning to talk to everyone in the Great Hall.
“Congratulations to our winners!” he says without an ounce of emotion. “As you all saw, we will have four competitors in the last trial. Rest up, winners. The next and final trial will occur in one week. This one will be far shorter than three days. Enjoy your stay in Castle Lachlan.”
And then he’s gone. Thankfully. Each of the prior visits by Nyxthos had irked me far more than I’d like to admit, especially the last one. They’d also lasted far longer. Now I can leave. I can find my hole…
“Come with me,” a voice whispers from behind me, and a familiar hand grips my shoulder.
Then I’m falling through the world.
Chapter 45
They will seek the ones who will not Return. They will hunt them, for the life inside them, for the power that they have gained since birth, and they will draw it out in terrible ways. You will keep them from this fate. Your powers will be fed, not by taking life, but by saving it.
~Edicts of Adelyth
