Chapter 20
Ivy
When I come up beside Cleric Delfis by the doorway of one of the treatment rooms, he dips his head in a brief nod and returns to watching the patients inside. An air of sadness hangs over the normally buoyant man.
After I glance into the room, it’s not hard to see what’s deflated his spirits.
The eight sacrificial accomplices are sitting or lying on the simple but comfortable beds they’ve been given. A couple of devouts are moving between them, talking to them in soothing tones. One is bringing around glasses of water that she helps each figure drink from. Another rubs a salve into a scar on a man’s knee.
The accomplices’ mutilations are on full display, the shrouds removed so the temple’s people can tend to these poor souls effectively. I have to gird myself against a grimace of revulsion.
It isn’t fair to recoil from the marred faces with their blank sockets for eyes and pared off ears and noses. To want to cringe at the sight of their warped bodies, missing both arms to the shoulders, pieces of legs, and more beneath the surface of their uneven chests.
As I watch, one of the figures lurches to her feet. “This isn’t where we’re supposed to be,” she rasps out. “We need to help—we need to give over our power?—”
One of the devouts hustles to her side and guides her back down on the bed. His voice trembles a little as he rubs the stump of her shoulder. “Hey there. This is the best place you could possibly be. Once you’re completely well, you’ll be able to help set Silana back on the right course, just as you wanted.”
But not the way the scourge sorcerers claimed was needed.
I swallow the lump that’s risen in my throat and glance at Delfis, keeping my own voice low. “How much have they been told?”
The cleric pulls his large frame away from the doorway and rakes a hand through his shaggy hair, which is even messier than usual. “I won’t have my devouts lie to them. Elox believes that honesty can heal. But we’ve avoided getting into many specifics so far. They’re still experiencing a lot of distress about their situation. It seems to upset them to be taken care of with kindness. How they must have been treated before…”
My throat tightens further. “I know. It’s horrible. Back in Florian, potential accomplices were being recruited from an orphanage—kids who had no family, groomed to be willing sacrifices for what was supposed to be a great and urgent cause.”
Delfis winces in horror. I find myself adding, even though I’m not sure it’ll make a cleric of Elox feel better, “The man who orchestrated those particular sacrifices is dead. I made sure of it.”
He nods and doesn’t ask how. I’d imagine he’d rather not know.
Will there be a time when I admit to this kindly man the truth about my own magic? Would he accept my riven soul as easily as he has these broken bodies, or would he recoil from me like so many others have?
I’m not sure I want to know the answer to that question.
Delfis sighs. “They have a long way to come. But this is the best possible place for them to find the healing they need. I’ll have to meditate on how to make the rest of their existence as comfortable and fulfilling as it can be.”
It’s hard to imagine how they could have much of a life in their current state. But if anyone can help them, I believe it’s Delfis.
I shift my weight, already suspecting what answer I’ll get to the main question I came to ask. “The ‘Festival of Freedom’ is happening in just two days. Do you think any of them would be in a steady enough state to speak on our behalf then?”
The cleric’s mouth twists apologetically. “I wish I could give you hope, but I have to say it’s highly unlikely. Another disruption when they’re having so much trouble settling in here would only set back their recovery. You wouldn’t want them speaking in favor of the scourge sorcerers or lashing out at the queen’s supporters anyway.”
“We wouldn’t,” I agree, and suppress a sigh of my own. “There were a few other sacrificial accomplices we rescued from a brothel in Pima weeks ago. Voleska is looking into whether any of them are stable enough that they could speak for our cause. If not… we’ll find other ways.”
Delfis shoots me a smile that makes me feel twice as guilty about the secrets I’m keeping from him. “Make sure you’re getting enough rest yourself. Those who work the hardest need the most time to recover.”
“Of course.” I manage a strained smile in return.
I head straight toward the room where we’ve been having our strategy sessions, passing the guest dormitories where we’ve been sleeping on the way.
Halfway down the hall, Alek emerges from a doorway. He jerks to a halt at the sight of me and holds out his hand to beckon me over.
The scholar’s expression looks so haunted that my stomach lurches. I hurry to his side. “What’s wrong?”
He takes my arm and guides me into the dormitory. No one else is in there at the moment, though the rumpled covers from this morning have been straightened by the temple staff.
Alek gazes into my eyes for a moment before his head droops. He seems to gather himself, his jaw flexing. Then he raises his chin again. “I found out something. Something I could get in trouble for telling you. But I think you need to know.”
Anxiety coils around my gut. “What? Who would you be in trouble with?” It’s hard to imagine anything putting us in more personal jeopardy than the scourge sorcerers already have.
Alek exhales in a ragged rush and takes my arm again. He strokes his thumb over my skin as he speaks. “Back at the Haven, I found a journal written by one of the very early riven that said some incredible things. I didn’t know whether to believe the story or whether it was only madness, but just a few hours ago, I found records in the temple library that corroborate the account.”
My mouth goes dry. This is something about my magic?
Something bad?
I force myself to respond. “What exactly did they say?”
“The gist of it is that… being riven isn’t a punishment the gods inflicted after the Great Retribution. The first riven souls weren’t born in the aftermath. The godlen themselves, and maybe the All-Giver too, broke through the souls of people who were already living so that they could funnel their power through those people and rain down justice on the original scourge sorcerers.”
I stare at Alek for a few thuds of my heart before everything he’s said sinks in. “The gods needed us to be riven? They made people that way to act on their behalf?”
Alek dips his head, his expression still fraught. “I know it sounds crazy—but it also makes so much sense when you think about how the gods normally interact with the mortal world, how little they usually can. And there are the things Kosmel said to you about not wanting to make your situation worse than the gods already have… It all adds up.”
I press my hand to my forehead as if I can steady my thoughts that way. “But—why haven’t the godlen made the truth clear? Delivered some kind of message to the clerics? Stopped people from hunting us down?”
“I don’t know,” Alek says quietly. “Maybe after the fact, when they realized they couldn’t heal the souls they’d fractured, they thought the riven and their descendants would provide a useful warning to the rest of humanity. But that doesn’t mean any of you deserve to be seen as monsters. I think it matters that the riven started out protecting the continent, not destroying it. The gods didn’t create you as a test or warning but as… as accomplices.”
A bitter laugh I can’t contain spills out of me. “Even if we’ve destroyed an awful lot since then?”
“It isn’t your fault.” Alek lifts his hand to cup my cheek. “People like you gave the gods the means to stop the worst kind of brutal magic before it went too far. They used those people and then couldn’t fix what they’d broken, so they abandoned you even more than the All-Giver abandoned the rest of us. We should be working with all of the riven to make up for those mistakes, not driving you to desperation and then executing you for it.”
He speaks so emphatically that I can’t doubt how much he means the words. Tears well up behind my eyes.
What would the world look like if instead of everyone living in fear of the riven, believing that all of them need to be caught as soon as possible and slaughtered, they watched for signs of the power in their children out of caring instead? Gave them training like what Sulla offered me and monitored their progress to ensure they never went mad?
How much more could they contribute to the realms if they were given that chance?
If we were?
I’m still in too much shock for my hopes to lift far. I study Alek’s face. “You said you thought you might get in trouble for telling me this.”
His throat bobs with a thick swallow. “I told Tinom first, when I didn’t find you right away. And he—he threw the main proof I had into one of the fireplaces and told me people would be too confused if we made the truth known widely. That it wasn’t worth the consequences.”
A chill seeps through my innards. I’ve always known the magic advisor was hesitant to trust my control over my magic, but I didn’t realize he’d actively work against me.
Apparently the grace he’s given only extends as far as necessary for me to continue protecting the royal family.
“Then we can’t do anything about it anyway,” I say. “We don’t have proof. He’d obviously deny it.”
Alek shakes his head. “I might be able to find other accounts. There were a few briefer mentions that at least support the records I found at the Haven… It isn’t our most urgent concern right now, but after Silana is set back in order, people should know the real story.”
A soft, melodic voice carries from the doorway. “I agree.”
Alek and I both jerk around.
Petra steps into the room. Her dark eyes are solemn as our future queen takes in the scholar and then me.
My heart skips a beat and then keeps hammering. “How much did you hear?”
“All the important parts, I think. I’m sorry. I was looking for you to find out the latest news from our allies in Nikodi, and when I caught a little of what you were talking about—” A hint of a blush colors her smooth cheeks. “I should have come in and been part of the discussion properly. I’ve gotten too much in the habit of hanging back and simply listening.”
Before I can decide what to say, she takes another step forward and grasps my hands. “Ivy, you know I trust you. I’ve seen how dedicated you are and how careful you’ve been. I want this country to be better to all riven sorcerers going forward. So what I’m about to tell you, please know that I had no part in it. If I’d found out in time, I’d have tried to argue him out of it.”
The chill inside me thickens with dread. “What?”
Petra’s mouth tightens. “My father—the pardon… Even in the end, he refused to believe that you could be anything other than a danger to the country. He lied in his letter. I think he was going to forgive Stavros and the others, but he’d made arrangements to subdue you and take you into custody when you arrived.”
The revelation hits me like a sucker punch. My breath rushes out of me around an ache that fills my lungs. “Oh. Of course.”
How could I ever have imagined that the king who’s made it one of his greatest quests to hunt down the riven would welcome me as an ally?
Alek’s eyes flash. “That’s terrible. He promised her amnesty and?—”
“He’s dead,” I cut in. “Partly because of me. It isn’t as if he was entirely?—”
“No.” Petra squeezes my hands. “He was wrong. Absolutely, utterly wrong. And if he’d realized that sooner, Lothar would never have had the opportunity to use you the way he did. I only bring it up now because Tinom was aware of the plan. My father never trusted the riven, and Tinom is holding on to the same opinion out of loyalty. I’ve been firm with him when he’s raised concerns. I’ll speak to him again, more forcefully. And when I’m queen, then my word will be the law. He’ll have to adapt.”
I know she intends to comfort me, but the ache doesn’t leave. If anything, I only feel queasier.
She’s taking a stand for me against not just public opinion but what remains of her court. Against her father’s memory.
Gods help me, how could I repay that?
How can I make sure I don’t drag her down in her attempt to save me?
After everything I’ve heard today, it’s hard for me to believe that the larger world’s view of riven sorcery could ever be shifted. I can’t let what’s probably a hopeless quest for justice interfere with Petra’s true purpose.
A quiver of resolve rises up through the turmoil of my emotions.
I need to justify her faith in me not just to her but to Tinom and everyone else supporting her claim to the throne. Maybe most of them will never see riven magic as anything but an abomination, maybe they’ll never open their arms to the others out there, but I can keep showing that I’m so much more than that.
I have to make sure we use this upcoming festival to get her closer to that throne, or what good am I to her anyway?
I clasp her hands in return, putting all my will into keeping my voice steady. “Then let’s see you hailed as queen as soon as humanly possible.”