Chapter 38 #2
They are monsters. All of them. If I’m going to be a monster, wouldn’t slaughtering the lot of them be the most honorable kind of viciousness I could carry out?
Kosmel, I think, as loud as I can. What do you want me to do? I can’t unleash that kind of power without you guiding the backlash. I don’t know what other disaster I might set off.
Killing one man years ago left all the gardens in the surrounding neighborhood decimated by the explosion of insects. What would happen if I killed twenty?
How would I explain the end result to King Konram? I’d have gone against his orders. I haven’t discovered who infiltrated the palace’s defenses or how yet.
No answer feels right.
My stomach turns, and not just because of the toxins working their way through it. My body sways forward and back like a sapling in the wind.
The godlen of luck remains silent. He’s left me to take my chances on my own.
Torstem finishes his circle and tosses the clay vessel into the fire. He lifts his arms, turning to take us all in with the fire warbling at his back. “The Order of the Wild remembers the wildness of our past! We will live as humans were meant to be!”
The other figures around the ring raise their hands too. “We will be wild!”
I realize us newbies are supposed to join in too. There are a couple of others who hesitated farther around the ring.
On the second iteration, we all lift our fists and our voices alongside the others. “We will be wild!”
Torstem strides around the ring at a faster pace, urgency creeping into his voice. “We will throw off the taint left by the empire and the usurpers who thought to rise up in their place!”
“We will!” the rest of us echo, though my heart skips a beat. The usurpers?
He leaves no doubt that he’s talking about the current royal family with his next statement.
“The Melchioreks barged in when the country was unsettled and tried to make it their own. But we know their way is not how it’s meant to be.
We’ll destroy them all and let the gods decide the rightful rulers of our country as they once did! ”
I force myself to join the shout, even though my nausea has returned. “We will!”
“We’ll hold trials to find the ones who are worthy, and never let the crown pass to anyone unproven!”
“We will!”
The whole world is blurring around me, but even through the muddle in my head, I remember Alek telling me about this sort of thing. How before the Darium invasion, there’d been kingship trials to determine who would inherit the throne.
He wasn’t upset that the trials had stopped. He said they were barbaric, that people who would have been great rulers ended up injured or dead.
Of course, the Order of the Wild seems to be all for barbarism.
“We’ll bring back all the old laws that were forgotten. We’ll honor our gods, our people. We’ll celebrate life by truly living, in all its chaos and savagery!”
“We will!”
Is that what all this fuss is really about? They think Silana was better centuries ago, before the Darium Empire’s meddling and everything that’s followed?
A laugh I can’t totally explain slips out of me. It doesn’t matter—others are laughing around the circle too, joyfully. So pleased with throwing away five hundred years that I don’t think can all be bad.
But then, what has the stinking royal family done for me that’s all that good? It’s because of the king I’m here in the middle of this madness. I didn’t want to be.
What am I supposed to make of anything?
My head reels, and my feet stumble under me. Someone strikes up a tune on a fiddle—a dissonant, jerky melody that only jumbles my thoughts more.
Most of the scourge sorcerers start to move with the sound, curling their fingers and arching their backs, scratching at the air and leaping like the wild things they believe they are.
I find myself joining the strange dance alongside them. My body wants to reach for something beyond this place—something to steady me, something to hold me down. But there’s nothing but the chaos Ster. Torstem talked about.
We stomp and spring around the fire, my senses getting dizzier with each step. I grope for my convictions, for the solid sense of why I’m here at all.
I need to identify the conspirators. I need to find out exactly what they mean to do.
At the first thought, my power is already leaping forward in time with the mad dance. My heart lurches, and I snatch after my magic with all my self-control—
But I don’t have much left.
My riven power slips through my jumbled thoughts and flings itself at the problem I’ve identified. The figure just ahead of me staggers to the side.
He clutches at his face, too late. The mask and the illusion attached to it wrench away, revealing Olari’s boxy features, taut with a mix of drugged haze and sudden panic.
A surge of triumph rushes through my own panic to contain my magic. I figured he was a part of the conspiracy, but now I know for sure. I can tell King Konram. I—
Across the fire, someone shrieks. I heave myself forward in time to see another of the scourge sorcerers hunching over.
She’s clawing at her face—at the mask that seems to have melted down over her nose. It’s clogging her mouth. Only a whistle of breath escapes her.
I spin around. No, I have to stop it.
They’ll see the connections—they’ll realize I’m riven—
A few paces down the ring behind me, another mask rips upward. I recognize the dark eyes and heavy brow of a women I’ve seen bringing out food in the dining hall.
Over by the carts, one of the horses squeals in pain. A gasp escapes my lips.
What have I done to the animal? Is its harness digging deeper into its flesh?
No, no, I can’t let this happen. Startled murmurs are breaking out all around me, along with hysterical laughter from those too far gone to be afraid.
The horse cries out again.
I pitch myself to the side, farther away from the fire, and crouch down with my hands pressed over my mask as if I’m afraid I’ll lose it too. As if I have no idea what’s happening.
With my eyes pressed tightly shut, I drag my magic back to me. I need to contain it. I need to make sure it doesn’t rampage any farther.
I have to shut it away before it gets me killed.
My power jerks against my unsteady hold. It could do so much more. It could topple them all to the ground. It could fling them into the fire.
No, I scream at it inside my head. All that’ll mean is more chaos. More damage I can’t control.
There’s a shattering sound—I think the breaking of one of the warped masks. A tendril of my magic escapes me and flits into the fire, sending a flame lashing out at the scattered ring.
More shrieks. I scuttle farther away with my hands tangling in the grass.
Ster. Torstem’s voice rises over the furor. “The gods act in unusual ways! They want us to prove we’re worthy. Perhaps there’s one among us who isn’t. Stand and present yourselves.”
Fuck. I don’t know if I even can stand up straight without falling right over again. I’m shaking with the effort to contain the rest of my power. My head feels like it’s been tipped upside down and kicked across a field for good measure.
Footsteps rustle through the grass toward me. Can I even trust what words will spill out of my mouth in my muddled state?
In the midst of all the terror and anguish, a clear voice breaks through my whirling thoughts from within them.
Ivy? What’s going on?
I can’t tell Julita—I can’t speak to her without them all hearing.
I lift my head, attempting to push myself to my feet, and lose my balance. Instead, I topple back on my ass.
Torstem is stalking toward me, the hawk illusion draped over his face and feathering his cloak looking even more ominous than it did before.
I swipe at my mouth where a hint of the sour flavor lingers, the most answer I can offer my ghostly passenger who’s finally returned. “Hard to… hard to keep everything under control,” I mumble as if to myself.
Julita must be able to sense enough to figure out the gist of the situation. She speaks quickly but firmly. Okay. We can get through this. I had ways of staying centered when Borys and Wendos would drag me into their rituals… Press your hands and your feet flat against the ground.
I follow her instructions automatically, adjusting my legs so the soles of my boots brace fully against the earth, leaning my splayed hands against the grass on either side of me.
Focus on all that stability, Julita goes on. Imagine you have roots growing all the way down into the soil, anchoring you there. Deeper than any drug they could have fed you.
With every word, the image she’s giving me solidifies. I drag air in and out of my lungs and feel those roots as if they’ve literally sprouted from my palms and heels.
For good measure, I imagine branches unfurling inside me too, weaving into a box to hold my power in.
“The professor’s assistant, isn’t it?” Torstem says, coming to a stop in front of me. “You look as though you aren’t doing all that well.”
My attempt at anchoring myself helps me fend off the dizziness. “I think perhaps I drank a little too much wildness,” I say, managing to keep up my noble diction, and let out a laugh I hope sounds more breezy than hysterical. “I’m a bit of a lightweight.”
He holds out his hand. “Let me help you up.”
He’s the greatest threat here. He’s the one who’s orchestrated all the pain and violence.
My magic sears at the imaginary bars of its cage, burning through my veins with a sting so sharp I force another guffaw to cover a gasp. As I lift my hand to take Torstem’s, my power flails madly with the desire to blast at least him apart.
Julita lets out an urgent noise. Your feet are still grounded. Your skin is so thick, no cut you take could ever really penetrate you. Everything important is yours to keep.
An ache fills my throat. The sentiment she’s expressed would have had a much more literal meaning when her brother and his best friend were carving her open to spill her blood in their amateur sacrifices.
As the law professor pulls me to my feet, I will my skin to turn to armor, like the thickest bark in existence. I smile brightly and harden the rest of me.
My magic batters against the new walls I’ve created, but it doesn’t find any cracks this time.
There are other ways I can defeat this man. More important things I need from him than his death.
“Thank you,” I say, and turn my face toward the bonfire as if reveling in the heat. “Things seemed to get rather insane for a moment. Why were the gods angry?”
Torstem smiles back with a curl at the corner of his illusionary hawkish beak. “I don’t think they were—they were only ensuring we stood our ground. All’s well again. There’s nothing to be scared of here. The wildness guides us, and the gods are on our side.”
I feel his gaze studying me, but I’ve given no reason for him to suspect I had anything to do with the supernatural disturbances. The only good thing about the reputation of the riven is no one expects to meet one who seems perfectly normal.
I lift my hands to the fire. “How soon do we really begin? How will we get our true kings?”
“Eager to see the change? I like that.” He turns toward the fire as well, releasing my hand. “You shouldn’t have to wait long. We’ve been gathering our forces. Within a few weeks’ time, we’ll be able to cut straight through to the royal family. Everything will fall with them.”
I tense my neck to stop my head from jerking around in surprise.
A few weeks, and the king could be dead?
“That’s good,” I coo, the drug slurring my speech without my trying. “So good. Where do we cut King Konram down?”
Torstem lets out a low chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll build our connection to the old ways until then. When the time is right, we’ll have all the power we need to strike.”