27. Martyrdom and Meaning

The Skalflames eating at the willow vines over the citadel cast the grove in green, illuminating Iseult and Tiernan’s somber, understanding faces.

Ciarán remained silent and unreadable both outwardly and in my head.

Even the buzzing of his thoughts had ceased.

Next to him, Fana watched me with wide eyes, and Orla—

Orla had never looked so full of loathing.

“Do you know how unfair this is?” Her voice, hard and cold, wavered over the words.

“You don’t need me, Orla.”

“No, but that’s just it, because now what? I fall on my knees and list all the ways I do need you? When I’m angry at you? How is that fair?” An explosion over the citadel and the crashing of falling stone helped drown out her rising voice.

“I don’t want you to fall on your knees,” I mumbled.

“Good, because I’m not going to! I’m mad at you!”

“I’m sorry about trying to kill Ferrin and lying—”

“It doesn’t matter! I’m still mad! But you get to fall back and be the hero, and what do I do? Swallow my anger because you get to make a sacrifice play?”

“Stay angry!” I held my arms out. “Stay angry at me for forever, Orla! What we did—what I did to you was horrible. I lied, and then I tried to murder your uncle, and I’ll be a little upset if it turns out I didn’t, okay?

But I’m mad at you, too! You nearly got both Ciarán and me killed in the mountain!

So you and me, we’re both angry, but me staying with the group doesn’t erase any of that.

Neither does me handing myself over to Caitria.

So we both get to stay angry because we both deserve to be angry! ”

“But I don’t want to be angry!”

“And I want to go home!” I said. “I want to go home so badly it hurts, and I wanted to take you there, even if we stayed mad at each other the entire way, but I can’t let Willow’s Grave be destroyed because of me.”

“Willow’s Grave wants you to run,” Ciarán interjected.

“But we always run!” I hated the rising pitch of my voice, but the dam on my frustration and anger had finally broken, and I couldn’t stop the ensuing flood.

“We run and we run and we run. We find safety, but they always catch up, and you know this better than any of us because not long ago, you were the one doing the chasing! You know they’ll catch up every time, and a fight will break out.

And then we run. Again. Rinse. Repeat. And this time, while we run, Caitria’s army ransacks Willow’s Grave. Because of us.”

“Because of us?” Ciarán repeated. “We aren’t forcing Caitria to hurt anyone. She’s doing that because she wants to.”

“And I have the power to stop her. I’m not the god everyone thinks I am, but if believing I’m valuable gets them to stop attacking Willow’s Grave, why shouldn’t I do something?”

I looked at them one by one. Iseult, Tiernan, Fana, Orla, Ciarán…

They knew I was right. I could see it in the somber set of their faces as they each ran the cold calculation in their heads.

“But we need you,” Fana whispered. Jonquil seemed to meow in agreement, but that might’ve been because Fana was squeezing her too hard.

“You don’t,” I said softly. “My mom will take my place when it’s time to reseal the Rift.”

“I need you.” Orla clamped her mouth shut, but her chin continued to quake. She forced a shuddering breath and then continued through a breaking voice. “Am I even going to see you again? Or is this it?”

“Orla—”

“This is probably the worst time to do this, and I know we’re mad at each other, and I know Willow’s Grave is being destroyed as we speak, but—” Orla cut off, blinked back tears, and said, “This is so unfair. First you lie to me, and now you’re taking away the first person who ever showed me what it meant to be a friend? ”

I closed the distance between us and flung my arms around her. Even if she was mad at me, and even if I was still mad at her, this was goodbye. I’d been ripped away from her once before. At least this time I had the chance to tell her how important she was.

“You were my first real friend, too, Orla.”

“You destroyed the Rift to save me.”

“Not on purpose,” I sniffed. “But I’d do it again. For you. Please don’t let anyone tell you aren’t worth destroying the barrier between worlds for.”

Orla’s laugh was wet and choked in my ear. “How lucky am I, to have someone so worth missing and so worth being angry with?”

“Not as lucky as I am.”

I would’ve held her there among the opal trees for forever, but the crashing of stone in the citadel forced me to let go. Orla wiped her eyes as she stepped away, and I turned to Iseult.

“Not that she needs it, but keep her safe,” I said.

Iseult, to my shock, bowed her head, white hair falling forward. “I will die ten times over before I let anything happen to her, my Lady.”

“No,” I shook my head. “Not with the ‘Lady’. Please.”

Fana stepped forward to hug me goodbye, squishing Jonquil between us. “I won’t call you Lady, Just-Wren. I don’t like it much either.”

“Make sure Jonquil makes it home, alright?”

“I will.”

“And blind anyone who gets in your way.”

Tiernan gave me a terse nod as he drew Fana away. He would miss me the least, but that simple nod said a lot about how far we’d come from our first meeting. He led the others into the opal trees, onwards towards the next city.

Orla looked back one last time, before their silhouettes blended with those of the tree trunks in the intermittent flashing of the bombardment.

My friends.

They were going to save the world. Our little group may have been short lived, but they were everything.

Orla’s words echoed in my head. How lucky am I, to have someone so worth missing?

I hoped they liked Keldori.

I kept my eyes trained on the shadows, refusing to look at the lone figure who remained at my side. The others hadn’t even questioned who he’d go with.

“They could use your help,” I said, still not looking at him.

“My allegiance is to you,” Ciarán said.

I smirked. “I thought a Grimguard’s allegiance was to the Rift.”

“Then I suppose I’m not a very good Grimguard. Now tell me, Lady Saergrim, what’s your plan for taking on an entire army? Because I know you better than to think for a moment you are handing yourself over to Ferrin’s right hand without a fight.”

I reached for Ciarán’s hand and squeezed.

“I was still working out the details. But since you’re here, how much Skal do you have?”

I finally turned to look at him, and his teeth gleamed white as he grinned at me. It was annoying having him in my head every moment of every day, but there was ease in being so in sync.

He already knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Enough, my Lady. I have enough.”

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.