28. Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Mace
W hen I wake up, Viola isn't beside me.
Of course, she has no reason to be, as she was pressed against a wall away from me when I fell asleep, but still, I hoped to find her there, notched into my side with her hair sprawled across my chest. But even when we shared a bed on the boat, she slept firmly rooted to her side of it.
I don't know why I expected any different. Viola Mistflow doesn't exactly give off the aura of someone who would cuddle.
She's sitting at a rickety table just a few feet from me, bags under her impossibly sharp eyes. How is she so keen this early in the morning? Across from her sits Rew, the first man who asked her to dance last night.
Jealousy surges through me, but I push it down. There is nothing romantic or sexual about their postures. Instead, they speak with low voices, both clutching mugs of what I assume is hot tea. I rise to my feet and move to the table to join them. Rew does not spare me a glance as he speaks, but Viola does give me a tight smile.
"…but I do not know if they'll be willing to part with it. I'm not even entirely sure it is the object you seek, but it's the only thing I can think of, Shadowweaver." His use of her formal title further bolsters my thought that this is nothing more than a business conversation, and the tension in my shoulders relaxes some.
My jealousy embarrasses me. No one, not even me, will ever tame Viola. Who she brings to her bed and who she shares her heart with will never be able to be controlled by me. And I wouldn't want to. If she wants me and only me, then she will make that known. And so far, she hasn't.
"It does sound like what we need, Rew, so I thank you for your candor. Even if it won't make you any friends. Do you really think we need to steal it?" My brows rise.
His lips are tight as he nods. "I tried to talk sense into them last night. They refused, unwilling to help because you brought those fae into our town."
"These fae saved you," I snap. Viola shoots a glare my way, but I do not care. I will not let the town degrade those who saved them.
"As I am well aware, which is why I am here, Nightroot," he all but spits. "But let's be clear here. If Viola and Tulip were not here with you, we would have rejected your help. You have no friends here, despite those who may have conversed with you willingly last night."
"Ah yes, here with Viola. Where I have been since the moment we met. My loyalties are clear, and they are not to Ytopie but to her."
He leans forward and snarls at me. "Funny, I didn't see you beside her last night."
Viola sits back in her chair, propping her boots on the tabletop in a bad habit I have yet to break her of. "Both of you either whip it out and compare or get out of my way. I don't give a shit about what either of you thinks about what happened last night." Rew sits back and crosses his massive arms, raising an eyebrow at me in challenge. Something tells me he would not be opposed to Viola's commandment.
"Right, so. Rew, will you draw the family from their home to allow me to get the artifact?" He turns back to her, his face softening just a touch.
"Aye, I will. Does it have to wait until tonight?"
She looks at him like he's stupid, and I roll my lips inward to hide a smile. "Shadowweaver, remember? I'm more effective at night. We'll need all the advantages we can get if this artifact is as important to them as you say."
"Without the amulet, they don't believe their daughter will have a chance at sight, so yes, I would say they'll do whatever it takes to defend it." My ears perk up, and I file away the information that what we are looking for is an amulet.
Viola drops her feet to the floor and pulls a dagger from her thigh holster. A small whetstone is retrieved from the pack at her feet just as Shadow swirls up the table leg to curl up in front of her. She begins to sharpen the dagger slowly, all while not breaking eye contact with Rew. "As I will do what I must to save all of Krillium, the question is – will you be able to live with yourself for betraying your kin?"
He leans across the table despite Shadow's hissing, elbows on the table, and eyes unflinching as they meet Viola's. "I'm here, aren't I? Remember, this is not the first time I have been on your side." My thoughts scatter, wondering when he could have possibly worked with Viola before. They seemed like strangers last night.
He grasps her hand, and Viola doesn't flinch away. Why doesn't she flinch? "I believe in you and your mission, Shadowweaver. I do not think there is a choice here." My eyes dart between the two of them, and the realization dawns on me. They are talking about potentially having to kill this family in order to retrieve the artifact.
"Viola…" I hiss. She turns to me with that hardened stare she wore on her way to the garrison. There is no changing her mind on the course she is going.
"I will do what it takes, Mace. If you cannot handle that, you can stay behind."
She is kidding herself if she thinks I will stay behind, and I struggle to keep the indignation out of my voice. "My place is by your side, Shadowweaver. You know that."
A curt nod is all I get in confirmation before she is back facing Rew, the two of them lowering their voices further to hash out the details of the plan before the others awake.
What will Tulip say when she realizes what Viola is prepared to do?
"Tulip! You came!" Orda coos, pulling Tulip into her arms.
After swearing me to secrecy for tonight's activities, Viola and I wake the rest of our crew and head to visit Orda, the elderly woman we met last night.
Tulip embraces the woman back and grins as Orda holds her at arm's length. "How do you look so different? It's been mere weeks since I saw you last."
"A lot happened, Orda. I'm glad you were able to avoid detection and didn't have to compete in the Race this year." Tulip shoots me a guilty smile.
Of course, we knew that towns had people who avoided the Race, but we mostly let it slide if they were not in Dalery. Scouts would check Dalery every year but the other cities only sparingly, but word still spread that there was no tolerance. There is no way this woman would've survived this year, so I am glad she had the foresight to avoid the Race since Tulip is convinced we need her.
The woman finally breaks eye contact with Tulip and sizes the rest of us up in the daytime light. Tulip tries to introduce us when Morrow surges forward, extending his hand to the woman. "I'm Morrow. I'm Tulip's husband."
"No, he is not!" Tulip shrieks.
"She just doesn't know it yet," he says with a sly grin and a shrug. Plume swats him on the shoulder, and Tulip's face turns red.
"I love a man who takes charge and knows what he wants," Orda teases as Tulip shrinks back with embarrassment.
I step forward and bow my head towards the woman. "I am…"
"Mace Nightroot," she says with a wave of her hand. "Everyone knows who you are." Surprisingly, her voice doesn't contain malice, just recognition. Plume quietly reintroduces herself since she briefly acquainted herself with Orda last night, and then Orda turns to Viola.
"God of Winter," she muses.
"That's what they tell me." She steps forward but doesn't extend her hand. Her posture is rigid, chin locked, shoulders squared as she stares at the older woman.
Sizing her up, Orda nods and opens the door to her home, gesturing us in. "Well, don't stand outside. Come in."
We file into a small, two-story home with a very cozy living area. Its floors are packed dirt like the one we slept in, but it has colored tapestries over the windows, diffusing the light in blue and purple. A small wood-burning stove sits in the corner, and there is a basin in the middle of a counter with cabinets framing it. It looks very similar to Viola's home, just with a bit more life. "Where are Gin and Kepe?" Tulip asks, looking around.
"Out. I figured we needed privacy, so I sent them out foraging," Orda says with a wave of her hand.
Viola leans close to my ear and whispers, "There are no single-family homes here. All must share housing." I nod, attention drawn back to Orda, who is putting a plate of biscuits and a jar of spread on the table in front of us. It's larger than the one at the home we slept in, so all of us can sit.
Orda shuffles down the hall as we take our seats and reach for the biscuits. When she returns she sits a small leather book in front of Viola. It has an ornamental sun burned into the front, and its pages are deep yellow with age.
"That's the journal," I say, unable to take my eyes off of it. "The one I have back in my office looks almost the same, save for the sun on the cover. Lucinda's had a snowflake."
Nodding and taking the final seat at the table, Orda crosses her hands in her lap. "That makes sense. This is the journal of Linna, the last high priest of the Radiant Sunfire."
"Linna? As in the festival?" Tulip asks with shock.
"One and the same. From what my mother told me, stories that were passed down among the women in her family, the festival was formed as a way to honor Linna when she passed for her role in the banishment."
Morrow raises an eyebrow. "Your people still worship the Sunfire. How can they celebrate someone who succeeded in banishing him?"
"Words get lost in time. You should know that. You have been around a long time, have you not, fae?"
"Not as long as you'd think. I am forty," Morrow replies. My eyebrows reach my hairline. How did I not know that Morrow was basically an adolescent in fae years?
Tulip sputters on her biscuit at the mention of Morrow's age. Viola leans over towards her, and I hear her whisper, "You get used to it. Mace is seventy." A bright pink flush covers Tulip's cheeks.
Orda ignores the interaction. "Besides, if it weren't for this journal mine and Tulip's families probably would as well. It is thought that the Autumn fae aided in pushing down the memories of those who knew the truth." I duck my head, and even though I can't confirm it, I have no doubt that is what happened. "Tulip, dear, you have not received the full story, and for that, I apologize. Your mother was supposed to collect this to give it to you before your Ascension Race. I made the decision to hold it until you returned. I'm not sure if that was the right decision now."
"Why do you say that?" Viola asks, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the table.
"Well, if I had shared, there is little doubt you would have declined to bring Himureal back." The words are a punch to my gut. Could this have been prevented?
Orda turns the book to a page that has a small leaf shoved in it as a way of marking a spot. She turns it to Tulip and points at a passage. Leaning down, Tulip reads it aloud.
They do nothing now but whisper about the Frostweaver. The Sunfire, the Harvest Lord, and the Bloomtide have spent all their time together, leaving me with Obliver and Tieron. We have tried piecing it all together, but it is not as if the Gods are totally forthcoming in their words. We have each been tasked with finding an item of worth to our families, and the amulet is the only thing I could think to bring.
Yesterday, when I had my ear pressed against the door of the room they had retreated to after the day's pilgrimage, I think I heard something I wasn't supposed to.
They are afraid of the Frostweaver.
And not in the way all of us are, a healthy fear of the oldest God, a God with dark powers. No, they fear him with their entire beings. I keep hearing whispers about how he plans to change life as we know it. They are convinced what he is going to do will ruin them. They are willing to sacrifice parts of themselves to stop him.
I have never heard the Sunfire so angry. He wishes to just attack his brother and get it over with, but it is the Harvest Lord who prevails in the argument with his cooler head. He swears his plan will work, as long as they can get all four high priests on their side – even Lucinda. What side is this?
What could they possibly need us for?
When Tulip finishes reading, we are all silent, staring at one another. It is Viola who breaks the silence. "The Gods were in on the banishing?"
Orda clicks her tongue. "It would appear so. There are other entries that make reference to their plans in there as well, but it's vague."
"Lucinda's journal mentions her fear of Himureal and then her fear of him figuring out 'what they have planned'. It seems as if they both were afraid of him reading their journals," I state.
"It would make sense," Viola says quietly. "What was his plan that had the other Gods so afraid?"
"At least we now know we're looking for an amulet here," Plume whispers. Viola gives me a look that easily communicates she plans to kill me if I mention we already knew that. After Rew left, she gave me a rundown of what I missed from their conversation and just how much she learned about the artifact.
We fall back into silence, Viola sliding the journal closer to her and reading the passage over and over. Once she closes the book, she rubs her temples, eyes closed, to help her process what she read. "He says his plan is to stop them from coming back because they aren't needed. What if he doesn't want them back because they'll reveal whatever this plan of his was that was horrifying enough for them to accept banishment of themselves?"
"What if, indeed," Morrow hums. "We need to find that artifact and ask the Sunfire."
Viola sits up straight. "Shit, Mace, is the ritual the same for each of the Gods to bring them back?"
I shrug, ruffling my hair off my forehead. "I doubt it. Part of it was pieced together from Lucinda's journal. She talked about how people would give blood as offerings to Himureal, as it is a magic he controls. I would imagine each God has a different summoning process."
She swears under her breath and rises to her feet, pacing throughout the room. "Right, because it couldn't have been that easy." She rips the braid out of her hair and rakes her fingers through it, stopping to tap three times at the base of her skull with each pass. "Okay, so change of plans."
All of us sit up straighter, but Tulip's jaw gapes. "What do you mean, change of plans?"
"Well, we don't know how to bring each God back, right? And I don't know about you, but I don't want to risk me bleeding out trying to bring the others back if that isn't guaranteed to work," she snaps. Tulip shrinks back, and Viola's face immediately softens towards the young woman. "Sorry," she apologizes softly. "What I mean is that we need to move as fast as possible, right? So what if we collect all artifacts and journals, and then once we have all three, we put them together and try to figure out if they detail it? Between the three of them, they must have enough information for us to figure out how to raise these Gods. They were all working together, even if Lucinda was reluctant to do so."
"Are you saying we need to get her journal from Ytopie?" I ask, leaning my elbows onto my knees and clasping my hands.
"After we get all the others, yes. There have to be enough clues between them to figure this out. I can't imagine these priests wanted their Gods gone forever." She turns her back to us and she leans on the counter to peer out the window. "It's the best shot we have with the least likelihood of killing me. I'm willing to die for it, but let's try to exhaust all other options first, shall we?"
Plume rises to her feet and moves to Viola's side. She doesn't touch her, just holds space next to the woman who has been tasked with carrying too much. "I would prefer not to have to mend you like I did in the garrison if that's alright with you."
Viola turns with a smile and places her hand on Plume's shoulder. Her hand drops rapidly as her eyes widen. "Mace, do you know where the pilgrimage took place?"
"The Cliffs of Barez," I answer immediately.
"Then we go there. We collect everything and go to Barez. If that is where the banishing took place, which I am guessing it is, that is where we will bring them back."
Orda watches our exchange with narrowed eyes, her head bouncing between us as we speak. Once we have all agreed to Viola's updated plan, the elderly woman rises to her feet.
"I wasn't sure about you, Shadowweaver. You can imagine, after the numerous times I have read this journal, that I am distrustful of Winter magic. And yet you stand here, willing to overthrow the God who made you for our people. I thought last night may have been all talk. I will be sure to tell the others you are the real thing." She moves to Viola and places her hand on her shoulder, and Viola has to lower her head to speak eye-to-eye with the small woman. "You take the journal, and you bring our Gods back. I may not have many left, but I will follow you until the end of my days for your dedication to our people."