Chapter VI. The Heart of the Matter
VI
THE HEART OF THE MATTER
“TWO WORDS.”
The Last Silversaint sighed, fingers steepled at his chin.
“I know I’ve said it before, coldblood. But it’s strange how so much can be born of so little.
How much power and peril can reside in such tiny things.
Two words had tied my troth to Astrid, our promise we’d be together forever.
Two words had invited Forever into our home, and begun the end of everything.
Two words had been the last I spoke to my love, there in the tomb he’d left us, my bride cold and still in front of me, and my daughter’s blood staining the stones above my head.
“I do.
“Come in.
“Forgive me.
“I’d lost all I cared for in this world twice over.
Struggling to pick up the splinters with bleeding hands and stagger on toward the only thing left.
Vengeance. I’d almost managed it. I was at the end of the road.
Peace ahead. Quiet. Sleep. But again, my tiny world had been unmade by just two little words.
“Dior lives.
“Phoebe spoke to us in the command tent, by the flickerbright light of smoldering coals, beneath the standards of my house and the stares of men who’d been raised to see her kind as savages.
She was too restless to sit, pacing like an animal caged, but I was sat on a stool beside the map table for fear my legs wouldn’t keep me upright.
“God and Mothermaid, I could scarce believe it. After all the guilt. All the heartache. All the what ifs and if onlys, two words had smote all doubt to dust.
“Phoebe told us all of it. Aaron and Baptiste, Lachie and Charlotte, the ’saints all sitting in silent wonder as she spun her tale.
She spoke of Dior’s resurrection in Maergenn, her mustering of the Unbound, their journey on Dawnseeker.
I’d cursed at that, counting months back in my head, thinking again of that vision I’d seen as I drank of her blood in León.
Wolves to the south. Ravens east. That burning light over the Bay of Antoine—same as the star that had signaled Dior’s birth all those years ago.
“It had been her.
“God, what a fool I felt then. A wretch for abandoning her. A cur for not believing in her. I should’ve known all along, Seven Martyrs, she’d shown me, my head now hung in shame.
And in my mind’s eye, again I saw that hand—that black and burning hand—clawing upward from the depths of Talhost, and tearing the screaming sun from our sky.
“Phoebe recounted the battle of Augustin next, the horrors and miracles she saw there. Streets awash in blood and bodies. Celene and Reyne’s foolish bravery, standing and falling against Kestrel Voss.
And finally Phoebe looked into my eyes and spoke of the change that came upon Dior, the wolf inside her unleashed.
Now it made sense how she’d been delivered from the cold hands of death.
How the scars she’d given me lingered, when others faded like light at sunset.
“‘A duskdancer?’ I breathed, touching my cheek.
“‘My husband’s daughter,’ Phoebe nodded, old pain glittering in her eyes. ‘The Anabh’Dhai was birthed of the Highlands after all, Gabe. Just as prophecy foretold.’
“I scowled, voice gone to gravel.
“‘Prophecy.’
“And Phoebe spoke then. Of Maryn’s words in Dún Maergenn. Of the meaning behind those verses carved beneath the Mothermaid’s tomb.
“The Sainted Blade.
“The Virgin Sun.
“Before the Five come unto one.
“‘Sounds like fuckin’ bollocks t’me,’ Lachlan growled.
“‘I thought the same at first, Lachlan á Craeg,’ Phoebe replied. ‘But then I saw the love with which Dior’s men followed her into battle. The way an ancien maebh’lair risked her eight hundred years to save that girl’s life without thinking.
The terror in the eyes of that Forever Prince as she looked upon Dior and saw what she was become.
There’s a…’ Phoebe shook her head, awestruck.
‘… divinity to that girl. Unmistakable. She is spoken of in legends of the Faithful and Moonsthrone alike. And if anyone on this blackened earth has the power to end the death of days, this Time of Blighted Blood, I know it is Dior Lachance. But none there are to answer how, save Mother Maryn. And to hear her speak…’
“Phoebe stalked toward me then, her voice iron.
“‘I’ve fought beside ye, Gabriel de León. Hip-deep in blood and slaughter. Leeches butchered my people. Raped my homeland. Returned the husband I thought slain, only to slay him again afore my eyes. Know ye better than any, how bright the hate in me burns fer the Dead. So ye know how hard it must be fer me to confess this now.’
“Phoebe shook her head then, shrugging.
“‘But I believe them. I truly do. Celene and Maryn fight to end this endless night. From reddest blood comes bluest sky. They do what is right. I know it, Gabe.’
“She knelt before me, hands on my knees, eyes fixed on mine.
“‘We must take Ashdrinker to Dior.’
“‘Why did Voss abandon his attack?’
“All eyes turned to Aaron. He stood in the shadows as ever; as far from all that burning ink as he could be. But light still shone on the ice-blue arc of his eyes as he spoke again.
“‘If what you say is true, mademoiselle, Augustin was almost his. Why pull back?’
“‘Who can know the mind of a madman?’
“‘Ever he’s wanted Dior alive,’ Baptiste offered. ‘Perhaps seeing her duskdance changed something? Perhaps he thought she might be hurt in the fighting?’
“‘Or perhaps the appearance of this Maryn changed his game,’ Aaron murmured.
“‘Mebbe,’ Phoebe said. ‘The Esana have fought to defend the Redeemer’s holy line for centuries. And Mother Maryn told us that Voss is a worshipper of the Fallen.’
“The mood around the tent fell through the floor at that, Charlotte signing the wheel, my own belly gone chill.
“‘Aye,’ Phoebe said, gazing about the gathering. ‘The Five who slew yer Redeemer. The Five cursed with his blood. Lickspittles to the Lord of the Abyss, all of them. Who can fathom the motives of monsters who swear allegiance to the King of Hell himself?’
“I stared hard at Phoebe then. I could see she spoke truth; that whatever she’d witnessed on that long road to Augustin had somehow given her faith in the Faithless. After all she’d seen and done, that had to count for something.
“‘We can ask Maryn ourselves,’ I declared. ‘When we get to Augustin.’
“Phoebe grinned, rising to her feet triumphant.
“‘We can set off amorrow. Be back in the capital b—’
“‘No, Phoebe. Tomorrow we attack San Maximille.’
“‘… Why?’
“‘Why.’
“I shook my head, bewildered she’d even asked.
“‘Because the Endless Legion has turned my country into a wasteland. Because the monsters up in that chateau have brought this empire to its knees. Because the Voss see us as cattle, fit for naught but slaughter, and God only knows how many innocent men, women, and children go to their deaths up in that sty tonight to feed those fucking pigs.’
“I rose to my feet then, hands curled into fists.
“‘Because Fabién Voss and his brood have murdered millions. My own bride and eleven-year-old daughter among them. It’s been two years since he took them from me. Not a day goes by I don’t live that night again in my head.
They laughed, Phoebe. They laughed as my angels died, and I swore I’d see them dead for it.
Every. Single. One. We’ve marched for months to be here.
Never have I stood so close to the vengeance I vowed.
So while I appreciate the eagerness of a creature who’s waited eight hundred years for this moment, your Mother Maryn might just have to wait a few days more. ’
“I clenched my jaw, hissing through my fangs.
“‘Because I have a king to kill.’
“‘We.’
“I glanced to Aaron as he spoke, the ghost of a smile on his bloodless lips.
“‘We have a king to kill.’
“‘Aye.’ Lachlan met my eyes, despite the soft ire between us. ‘We.’
“Phoebe shook her head. ‘If ye fall in battle against Voss, the sainted blade will be lost, Gabriel. And so too the hope of this world.’
“I smiled then, small and sad.
“‘I remember nights when you had more faith in me, Mlle á Dúnnsair.’
“I turned to my cousin, my brethren, nodding to each in turn.
“‘Get some sleep, all of you. We attack come the dawn.’
“And turning on my silvered heel, I strode from the tent.
“I tasted the night outside, the witching hour creeping closer, frail sunrise still hours away. I could hear talk of sleepless men among the tents, the desperate prayers of others, that long night of the soul stretching ahead of each. I’d lost count of how many eves before battle I’d spent, restless or drunk or simply sitting in silent terror.
But though I remembered what it was to be afraid of death, walking back to my bed that night, thirst spreading like venom through my veins, in truth I couldn’t have told you if I feared or welcomed the thought of dying anymore.
“Vengeance or annihilation came with the sun. Either way, an ending. But as I stepped into the quiet dark of my tent, two words echoed within me still.
“Dior lives.
“‘Gabe.’
“I turned to find Phoebe behind me, framed against torchlight and falling snow, that song of scars scribed over her skin. I could see anger in her golden eyes. But past the heartache and frustration, I also saw regret at her words. The knowledge she’d hurt me.
“‘I’m sorry. I dinnae mean that. I do hold faith in ye.’
“‘If you didn’t, you’d not be a fool. I know what we face amorrow, Phoebe.’
“‘Then why face it?’ she hissed, stepping inside. ‘Dior waits in Augustin, Gabe. I know the love ye bear her, and she for ye. Why risk that, especially now? We can end it all.’
“I looked to Mama’s bloodstained journal upon my desk.
“‘Because I don’t trust the Esani, Phoebe.’
“I turned my eyes to the sky, whispering the heart of the matter.
“‘And because I made a promise.’
“‘Gabe—’
“‘Do you remember what you told me in Ravenspire? How if we’re blessed, we might find those few who in their own broken way…’
“‘Make our broken edge complete. I remember.’