Chapter Twenty-Two Samira #2
Glancing around, I spotted a row of arrows, and beside them an assortment of bows. A long horn rested against the line of weapons. Meant to sound an alarm. Banisters wrapped around the square space, but there were no walls. The wind whipped through here easily. A watchtower.
Velka got to her feet and rested her forearms on the railing, jerking her chin to gesture outside. “Come look.”
I stood and moved to her side. The Shroud was the first thing I saw, malicious and twisting.
“Not there,” Velka corrected. She pointed south. “There.”
Kaldfold stretched before me. The drought had taken its toll on this place; what I was sure had once been lush, full trees were now mere spindles with only the most stubborn leaves still hanging on, and the once-vibrant grass was now an anemic spread of brittle weeds.
And yet, somehow, there was still beauty here. Birds soared overhead, a handful of deer disappeared into the forest. The overcast sky was like a comforting blanket over all of it. The wonder of Ketet’s work, no matter how hard Shaya sought to diminish it, held true.
And if I strained my eyes to the horizon, I could make out the tan color of sand. No buildings, no vegetation dotting its surface. Just sand. “Those are the Wastelands,” I breathed.
Velka nodded.
Ashorah was too far west for me to make out Khada Palace or even the Frozen Sand Mountains, but just that small glimpse of the Wastelands, of terrain that was recognizable, was enough to settle me.
No, I had never set foot in the Wastelands—and I never would, if I could help it—but it was only a hundred miles away from Ketopolis. Home.
“You can come here anytime.”
I blinked at Velka.
She smiled. “I’ll let the others know. Whenever you need to take in the view, feel free.”
Free to look toward my home whenever I wanted, whenever I needed reminding why I was doing this, whenever I needed to draw strength.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Even on the journey from Ashorah, you were kind. And now this…” I looked back toward the Wastelands.
Velka studied her clasped hands hanging over the watchtower’s banister. “If our roles were reversed, if you were holding me in Ashorah, would you treat me like one of Shaya’s leftover monsters? Or would you be kind?”
My answer was instant, but I bit it back. If Amunet got hold of a Kald, there would be no mercy. And I don’t think I would’ve felt bad about it, either.
Velka’s lips curved grimly at my silence.
“My mother always says that people want to learn, they just don’t want to feel like they are.
But if you want a better world, people must learn how to be better.
So we have to show you how to be better, Your Majesty,” she said.
“And maybe, at the end of this, when you’re in charge of the largest empire on the continent, you’ll have learned how to make it better, too. ”
I swallowed and looked away, cheeks heating with shame.
Shame that I had allowed myself to be swayed into believing they weren’t people but mindless animals.
They had magic—just like my queen would in a few weeks.
They weren’t all pleasant. They were certainly flawed.
Cracked, Rade had said. But Velka had never treated me like a monster, even when she thought I was responsible for so much pain and fear in her home.
She was right. She was better than me.
I was quiet for a moment. Then I broached, “Velka, could I ask you something else?”
“Sure.”
“There was an old man in Netherridge—Finan. He let the Shroud take him.”
“Ah, Finan.” She sighed mournfully. “The promise of reuniting with a loved one can be all too tempting.” At my look, she elaborated.
“Some people feel drawn to the Shroud. We’re not sure why not everyone succumbs to its call, but we think its darkness calls to the darkness in us.
Those with more darkness feel the pull stronger. ”
My skin prickled, and dread fell like a stone in my gut. That wall of night stood tall and proud. While it looked frightening, I couldn’t deny that I found it alluring, too. A desire to feel its gentle touch on my skin again. Those with more darkness…
“Do you mean… the Shroud only calls to evil people?” I asked in a small voice.
Velka shook her head. “We all have darkness in us, Your Majesty. Some just have a greater propensity for it. We think the Shroud exploits that. That’s how it gets its claws in.
And once it does…” She shrugged sadly. Oblivious to my mounting unease, she went on, “Finan’s wife walked into it years ago.
I imagine he hoped she was still in there, the way he remembered. But she’s not.”
I recalled, “Keir said the Shroud infests people.”
“It does. And he would know better than any of us.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Because he—”
“Velka!” a furious voice barked. We peered over the edge to see Keir seething up at us.
“There you are,” Velka called back. “We were looking all over for you.”
“Get down here now.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fun’s over. Let’s go, before that vein in his forehead explodes.”
My conversation with Velka plagued me the rest of the day and well into dinner.
What did she mean, a greater propensity for darkness?
Velka hadn’t seemed to think too much of it—but then again, she and her friends were tried-and-true killers.
I was nothing that horrible. Other than lying for the Gods-Chosen, I had never done anything bad in my entire life.
The gods were strict in their expectations, and they wanted their children to act with honor, kindness, and obedience. Which I tried to do. Always.
Part of me thought I should tell Velka I felt that call, so that she could tell me what to do to combat it. She’d help me.
But maybe she was wrong. After all, she had also said they weren’t sure.
So maybe it had nothing to do with darkness.
Maybe it was arbitrary. A sorry luck of the draw.
That felt like a better fit. The very fact that I was in Kaldfold was a testament to just how rotten my luck was.
Unlucky, but not a disappointment to my gods.
None of my reassurances loosened the knot of dread around my chest.