Chapter 8
The Self-Important Prince
The wind toyed unceasingly with their new uniforms, flapping bits of fabric against skin.
It pulled the bedraggled curls from Eiko’s once-tight braid and whipped them into her face, chilling the last scraps of warmth the fire had left in her bones.
They were somewhere behind the Godsguard barracks, apparently right at the edge of the highest tier of the city, because the ocean snarled far beneath them like a frothy-mawed dog chained to the rocks.
She could easily imagine the white spray leaping high with every crash, trying again and again to collapse the cliff and send Goldmoor deep below the churning depths.
It reminded her of that old tale again. It was too easy to believe that the ghost of Goldmoor possessed the ocean, that he wanted to swallow them all up and would beat and batter this cliff until he succeeded in tumbling them into his waiting throat.
Chasin had marched them there in—you guessed it—complete and utter silence.
His soldier had stopped translating upon the conclusion of his speech, just as he had promised, leaving Hymn to despair over not being able to interpret any of the signals.
Chasin wasn’t even trying to make it easier for the other recruits.
It was almost like he was punishing them for not having the inside knowledge or foresight to pre-learn his language, as Maelon had.
Bit self-important, isn’t he? Eiko thought.
You mean the prince who commands the most sacred and feared legion of warriors in all of Lyra? Hymn asked. The man with the biggest monster I’ve ever sensed?
Whatever. You haven’t sensed every monster in the world. I bet there’s a bigger one. Bet it has a bigger dick too. Wait—can I say dick? I keep forgetting you’re a baby.
I’ve seen dicks. I’m invisible, not b-bli— Hymn stuttered on the last word. I’m so sorry!
Wow. You’re lucky you’re adorable.
He’s motioning like he wants everyone to line up again, Hymn told her, as the bodies around her shifted and braced against the wind. Uh, you’re facing the wrong way. Face the ocean, Hymn corrected.
Eiko turned around.
He’s glaring at you, Hymn told her.
What’s new? She internally shrugged.
He’s signing something else. I … I’m not sure—
The air suddenly turned frigid and menacing, her lungs seizing as oxygen was sucked from the atmosphere. The other recruits all made terrified, choking sounds, and her hands rose to her throat, her breath a rasp.
He manifested his monster, Hymn croaked, darting from her arm to hide behind her ribcage. It’s huge. It’s looking at us. Oh, darkness. It’s the biggest I’ve ever seen. It’s so old … It wants to eat us. It hates us.
How can it hate us? It doesn’t even know us? She tried to calm him down with a poor attempt at humour, swallowing back her own fear, but it clearly wasn’t working.
Hymn was shuddering in frightful little spasms.
Hymn?
He’s going to kill us, the little monster wailed dramatically.
The atmosphere changed again with a snap, air filling her lungs in heaping gulps as she straightened, her hands dropping to form tight fists by her sides.
She didn’t like this. She did not like that Chasin’s monster seemed to have it in for her, or maybe it had it in for Hymn.
Maybe those two were mutually exclusive now?
Hymn climbed up to her throat like he was peeking out from beneath the collar of her uniform.
I think he wants the recruits to manifest their monsters, he whispered nervously.
I don’t think you’re allowed to leave until you do.
He just flashed us a timepiece and shrugged like he doesn’t care how long this takes.
Great. Now she had to show everyone her tiny baby snake-with-wings after Chasin had just unveiled “the biggest monster” Hymn had ever seen. That was just great.
Ren shifted his weight, groaning at a pain or stiffness Eiko couldn’t see, and a soldier jolted forward with a snap of overly confident, leather boots against damp, slippery rock, driving a heavy fist into a part of Ren that had him stumbling with a whoosh.
I guess we’re also not allowed to make a sound, Eiko grumbled to Hymn.
Chasin had spoken as though the burning of their clothes and the inhumane hosing-down comprised the entire ceremony of humanity-stripping, but it was only the first part in a multi-part series of “unmaking,” because this was looking like yet another test, yet another place to be emptied out and skinned of pride and stubborn will.
Vana whimpered, and another soldier stepped forward, delivering another whack.
Any idea how we do this manifesting thing? she asked Hymn hopefully, as the wind picked up in strength, threatening to topple them down into the hungry ocean.
I’m sorry, he said. I don’t know how to do much. I don’t even think we bonded properly.
What makes you say that?
He avoided answering her, and she frowned, hugging herself against the damp chill. Hymn?
You shouldn’t have my second sight, he admitted sheepishly. You should only have what I promised you, and I didn’t promise you anything. So, I think we did it wrong.
Eiko shrugged. Doesn’t feel wrong.
He circled her wrist happily, making a trilling sound.
What a damn cutie.
Still … she needed to figure out how to manifest him. She could feel the sun climbing higher, the afternoon heat scorching her skin. The wind showed no signs of softening.
Manifest, she thought, with every ounce of intention she could muster—which, at this point, wasn’t much.
Who, me? Hymn asked.
Sun above. She curbed the urge to smack her head with her palm, because that would count as noise, and someone would definitely step forward to whack her.
She tried everything she could think of as the shadow of Rion beside her stretched and shrank, dipping Eiko into shade and exposing her once more.
Her throat dried and her toes ached from trying to stand solid against the elements for so long, but the harder she tried, the harder it seemed.
The only solace she had was that it seemed just as impossible for the other recruits.
Why don’t they just tell us how to do it? she asked Hymn despairingly, as the sun began to set again.
The silence gnawed at her. It scraped down her nerves, carving out whatever pieces of identity the fire hadn’t burned away. Her knees trembled. Her muscles twitched under the strain of stillness.
The connection between monster and human is tricky, Hymn yawned out, shaking with the exhaustion that clawed at them both. It’s supposed to be instinctive, not taught.
A soft sound, like a whimper swallowed too late, came from somewhere down the line. Vana, she thought. A second later, there was the sharp impact of a blow, followed by a muffled gasp, and then the line was achingly silent again.
Kaito’s presence on her other side vibrated like a hot stone beneath cold water, bubbling and boiling with the effort to do as Chasin had commanded.
He wasn’t the most patient person, her brother.
This was his personal hell. Ren’s breath was ragged.
Rion’s thin breath was a trembling wire in the wind.
Ky was too quiet. Eiko tried to focus on the rhythmic crash of the waves, but soon, even that agitated her nerves.
Sweat stung her eyes as the setting sun burned its path through the horizon.
Are the section leaders still here? she asked Hymn.
She didn’t need to check if Chasin was still there—she was certain he was.
His influence had a tangible weight to it.
It subdued the energy around her, as though his presence sucked all light and air from the atmosphere.
Considering they were standing on a clifftop at sunset, that was an impossible amount of light and air for him to be sucking, but he seemed to be doing just fine.
They’re waiting, Hymn whispered.
Manifest, she thought right back at him.
Yes, that’s what they’re waiting for.
She groaned internally. That was supposed to be an order.
Oh, sorry. Try again?
Another hour, and she tugged the chain around her neck, uncovering her glitterstone as it popped out of the neckline of her uniform.
As soon as she did, one of the section leaders stepped forward and punched her in the stomach.
Hard. She stumbled back, swallowing her gasp of pain before fumbling to right herself again.
Okay. No glitterstones, then. She had Silenced a monster. She could walk in and out of the Quiet. She could exist in darkness. She covered the glitterstone and tucked it back beneath her uniform.
Is this going to be okay? she asked Hymn. If we’re exposed to the Quiet? Will you be safe?
A monster has to touch me to find me, he responded. Don’t let anyone touch me, and we’ll be okay.
Great—
I think, he quickly added.
Great, she repeated, a little more dryly.
An hour or so later, her legs began to scream, threatening to buckle.
Manifest! she suddenly yelled into her head, attempting to shock the little monster into obeying.
Holy darkness! he screamed back. What was that? Are you okay? You almost gave me a heart attack!
Do you have a heart? she asked.
Yes, of course. I think? I don’t know. It’s just a thing you humans say.
Was that a yes or a no?
Probably not. He sounded utterly forlorn.
Someone finally collapsed to their knees. Eiko flinched involuntarily, and a cold, spectral silence swept across the cliff. There was a dull, wet sound of a body hitting the slippery stone, and then a ragged gasp.
“I did it—” a man began, but he cut himself off as a growl rattled through the air, echoey and chilling, murderous and … overjoyed?
The sound was so terrifying that Eiko recoiled a step and somehow jolted the world into colour at the worst possible moment. Her eyes went wide, taking in the scene with a silent whimper. Dark strokes painted the skies, a winged beast exploding from a man’s prone form.
It’s one of the men from Oakensnare, Hymn told her, as she struggled to place him. Ron.