Chapter Fifty-Seven Caspia
Fifty-Seven
Caspia
Four Voster walk across a cold marble floor, their burgundy robes swishing over bare feet.
Andreas faces them, hands clasped behind his back, seemingly relaxed except for the hidden dagger clutched in his fist.
Through the wide balcony doors, a wind sweeps into the large, echoey room.
Sunlight streams through windows tinted with blues and greens and yellows.
A cry rings out from a room far above.
Four priests lift their eyes to the ceiling. Then they scatter to hunt.
Two move on silent feet to the doors.
One fixes his gaze on Andreas.
And the other stalks toward me, the pain of his magic driving through my chest like a blade.
Andreas shouts for the guards to stop them. He throws his dagger toward a priest, but an invisible wind bats the weapon away, its blade clattering as it skids across the floor.
We cannot fight them.
We cannot win.
Not as we are.
…
I stood on the balcony, staring across Roslo to the sea. It had been hours since I awoke from the vision, but it had stayed with me, refusing to loosen its grip.
I’d seen that room before. I’d seen those Voster priests.
Did they already know about the orbit? Now that we’d removed it from that pool, had their magic lessened? Or would we have to find a way to destroy it first?
Maybe that vision was what awaited us after we found them all.
“Caspia,” Andreas called from inside.
I didn’t reply, knowing he’d find me. He always knew where to look. The man had a tether to my heart.
“There you are.” He came up behind me, arms instantly wrapping around my shoulders.
“Is it done?”
“It’s done.”
I exhaled, the tension leaving my body in a whoosh. For the first time in suns, I could breathe. The pressure in my chest vanished.
“Can you feel anything?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
The orbit was now hidden in a locked chamber in his family’s vault. Far enough away I couldn’t feel its magic.
Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I’d felt different since waking up after the Evon. I couldn’t see quite as far as I’d been able to five suns ago. Sounds and noises weren’t quite as loud.
I’d cut my finger this morning on purpose to see how quickly I healed.
Fast. But not as fast.
At least, I hoped.
Was it possible that we’d already altered the state of the continent by taking that orbit out of the ravine? If it was in an iron box, no longer touching water, sealed in a vaulted tunnel, had we lessened its magic?
Andreas reached into his pants pocket and took out a ring of keys. He peeled them apart, holding up a simple brass key that caught the light. “For now, this stays with me. Until I can find a place to keep it safe. Only you and I will ever know what’s locked away.”
I nodded. “The soldiers?”
“Before we left, I told them we were searching for a historical relic. They all believe that’s what we pulled from that pool. Each received a sizeable bonus for accompanying us. And I’ve given the same to the families of those who died.”
“And Seth Hay’s family?”
“Will never have to travel the ravine again.”
“Good.” I pressed a hand to my heart, still aching for the kind merchant’s death.
Seth’s body, and those of the other fallen soldiers, had been taken out of the chasm so they could be returned to their loved ones and mourned properly. Half of the people who’d stayed with the horses and supplies at the bottom of the Evon had been killed by the chiropti.
I had no memory of leaving the Evon Ravine.
After I’d lost consciousness, Andreas had carried me and the orbit to the horses. He’d let the others collect the dead bodies as he rode us out of the ravine.
He reached the top by dusk with the others not far behind. He caught up with the soldiers who’d suffered from vertigo and explained that I’d suffered the same and passed out.
It was the orbit’s magic and the onslaught of pain that had shut down my body. And while Andreas had been worried about separating us, he’d taken the chance.
The orbit had traveled back to Roslo with the blond soldier, a man named Taven. While Taven traveled ahead with the orbit and a few others, Andreas rode with me in that awful carriage. Not that I remembered traveling back to the city, either.
I’d woken up in my own bed, four suns after the ravine.
“We need to talk about the other orbits,” he said. “We’re not going after them. At least, you’re not.”
“I expected you to say that.”
“And I’m expecting you to try to convince me otherwise. Be warned, I’ve had five days to prepare my argument.”
“No argument.”
He stilled for a heartbeat, then let me go to spin me around. “Really?”
“I had a vision last night. About the Voster. They came for us.”
“Fuck.” His jaw clenched. “When?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not until we find them all. But if taking that orbit altered their magic, in any way, we should lie low.”
His expression turned serious as he stared out over the city. “There’s no way they could know it was us. Unless Hain revealed who you are.”
“No, he wouldn’t.” Not when he was working against the brotherhood. “You’re sure the soldiers won’t speak a word of it?”
“None of them saw what I pulled from that pool. They were too far back, and it was too dark. I wrapped it in my cloak before I carried you out of there.”
“And Taven?”
“He’s loyal. But I’ll still find a way to tie him to us.”
“With gold? Or secrets?”
“Both.”
I didn’t like the idea of blackmailing Taven, but if our lives depended on it, so be it.
“We can’t give up,” I whispered. “We only have until the migration.”
Andreas rested his chin on my head. “We won’t have time. We could traipse all across Calandra, do nothing but search for the orbits, and still fail. We need help.”
“But I’m the only Starling.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to do this alone. Now that we know what we’re looking for, we’ll find a way.”
I leaned against his chest, breathing in the scents of wood and soap and spice, listening to his heart. “It feels impossible.”
“Have faith, my heart.”
“Emery used to say that. Whenever I’d get discouraged, she’d tell me to stand tall. To have faith in the Divine’s grace.” I closed my eyes, breathing through the twist in my chest. “I miss my sister. I miss Xandra. For her, we have to find the others and destroy them.”
“We will prevail.”
I hoped he was right.
Part of me wished we’d never left that cabin in Genesis. Maybe, once this was all over, we’d go back.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“We keep our heads down. Quietly, slowly, we enlist help. It’s time we told Faxon everything. I’ll bring Taven into the fold. And we’ll do what we can from Roslo to identify where the other orbits might be.”
“Eventually, we’ll have to seek them out.”
“Yes. But I see no point in bringing them here until we know how to destroy them.”
“And how will we figure that out?”
He gave a dry laugh. “Not a godsdamn clue.”
“Have faith.” I repeated his words. “We will prevail.”
Maybe if we kept the faith, if we believed in each other and this fight against evil, the Divine would gift us the help we needed to succeed.
Andreas and I held on to each other as the sound of waves crashed in the distance.
“Who do I believe in now?” he whispered. “I’ve spent my whole life praying to gods who do not exist.”
His voice was heartache. I hadn’t realized until this moment how much this truth would cost him. Andreas wasn’t just discovering a long-lost tale. This was reshaping the entire foundation of his history and religion.
“Believe in the Divine.”
“I don’t know your god,” he murmured.
“I promised you once, in that cabin in Genesis, that when I came to Quentis I’d teach you about the Divine’s grace. I guess it’s time for me to make good on that vow.”
He searched my gaze, taking my face in his hands. “Until then, I’ll believe in us.”
“Us.”
In a love that would carry me through eternity. A love that would bring us together again.
“Us,” he repeated, sliding his hands down to my rounded belly.
The baby kicked at his hand like she was saying hello to her father.
The smile that lit up Andreas’s face was breathtaking.
Us. Only us.
Until the Divine called me home.