“Bern and I’ll take a turn around the perimeter,” Neville says, rising. “I want to be sociable, but I’m getting itchy sitting here. Sociable can equal dead when a watch isn’t set. We’ll take the first four hours.”
“Make it three,” Kaelen says. Neville nods, and he and Bern stride off toward the horses. The prince glances at Chitai, who nods. “Chitai and I will take the next three.”
“And I the dawn,” Andras says. He raises a sardonic eyebrow at Trick. “The thief can share my watch.”
Trick’s shoulders tense, but then he looks up and flashes a charming smile at the Sylvan, who is decidedly not charmed. “Sure. Anything for the quest.”
“I can take a watch,” I volunteer, only to see them all react negatively. Because of course they do. They think I’m a nobody. What good could a servant do in the face of danger?
The only enemy I fought died almost accidentally.
“We don’t know how much of your energy and strength it will take to bear the amulet, Soli,” Elianna says quietly. “You’re already starting this journey off weakened—”
“I’m not weak,” I snap. “Gray Mind isn’t—”
“By the monstrous Sisters’ starvation and ill treatment of you,” she continues, tension beneath her words. I lean away from her, hopeful but not entirely certain her anger is for the Sisters, not me. My reflexive response to harsh emotion is to flinch and huddle away from angry people. If you’re not in arms’ reach when the blowup occurs, you’re less likely to carry the bruises later.
“Tell us what it is, Soli,” the Sylvan says.
I blink, not sure what he means.
“You said ‘Gray Mind isn’t.’ Tell us what Gray Mind is,” he says, his onyx eyes intent. “My people don’t have this condition. Perhapsbecause we’ve had such close proximity to the goddess, may she be restored, for millennia.”
“You know,” I say slowly. “That may be the first time anybody ever asked me. Mostly, they justtellme what it is. WhatIam. And they’re almost always wrong.”
“Your mind is delicate. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Trick says.
Anger sears through me with a wave of heat, and I realize I’m finally and thoroughly fed up with being told what I am. What my mind is.
How I’m worthless.
“My mind isn’tdelicate. And it certainly isn’t defective. It just … needs a break from reality sometimes. Like, when I reach a limit on how much stress or pain I can bear, my mind just … hides away. Sometimes, I sink into a kind of gray fog, where the most menial tasks become almost impossible to complete.”
“Valourian healers treat this condition with some success,” Kaelen says. “They use mental exercises and physical movement. Scholars have suggested that physical actions can influence mental processes.”
I sigh with no small amount of bitterness. “Yes. I’ve heard this, too. Because the first thing I want to do when my brain drags me into the bleakness of the gray fog is jump up and run around the library.”
“My people call Gray Mind ‘Sandstorm Mind.’ We know this illness,” Chitai says. “The healers offer an herb that grows at the Oasis of Aurora. It helps some who suffer, but not others.”
“I’ve read about it but have never been able to try it,” I tell her. “Though I’d love to, if given the chance.”
She nods. “We can make this happen.”
“And the Valourian mental exercises, too,” I admit, but less enthusiastically. “Unless they’re just another excuse for so-called scholars to condescend to me.”
Kaelen’s smile is a slash of teeth in the firelight. “I’ll make very sure they don’t.”
Chitai grins at him and then looks at me again. “The important thing is this: We don’t treat those with Sandstorm Mind any differently than we treat those who catch the bleeding fever or suffer snakebite.These are illnesses and injuries to be treated, not judgments of a person’s value.”
“If only Pyrrhans believed that,” I mutter.
“But what is it?” Andras asks again.
I blow out a breath. “Trying to describe Gray Mind … It’s like describing an ocean voyage to someone who has never seen water.”
Chitai furrows her brow. “What do you mean?”
I shake my head, frustrated by my inability to explain. “First let me say that I can only speak for myself. Others experience the condition differently. But to me … Gray Mind is like a giant serpent made of lies. Always in the background, slinking around. Lurking. Lying in wait to strike, to spurt its venomous distortions into my mind. I’m not good enough. I’m nothing. I’m alone and always will be. There’s no hope for my future, so I shouldn’t bother trying.”
