Chapter 22
Eldric
W ith Wynter solstice days away, Lorali’s presence was rare. She took meals at the temple, worked long hours, and came home just long enough to sleep before doing it all again. Ink stained her hands and stress strained her mind. A small part of him feared she might even begin staying overnight. He didn’t want to think about that.
When she was home, he did all that he could—filled her cup with tea flavored by milk and honey, waiting for her arrival each night while it kept warm on the woodfire stove. Small cookies dabbled with even smaller morsels of chocolate had become a staple in the house ever since he made them when the weather turned cold, and she loved them. A small kindness to paint a rare smile across her face.
The ghost of her presence lingered within the house as the riotous blooms of spring and lush leaves of summer faded with autumn’s harvest. Their garden, once plentiful, was now slumbering. His days were no longer spent tending to flowers and crops, leaving him with idle time to fill. Instead, his feet ambled down the dirt road following his traitorous heart that was torn as it worked in tandem with Daeson’s own.
With a shudder, Eldric covered his unwashed hair and days’ old stubble with the hood of his cloak, breath smoking into the grey winter as the first snow fell. It crunched beneath his boots, shattered glass that could never be repaired. Wind tore against his clothes, cold and unforgiving as it pushed him back. He dug his feet in with gritted teeth, ignoring the sinking pull in his chest, and waited for the winds to pass.
Eldric knew he could turn back, walk the path that took him to Lorali’s side where they could figure it out. Together. Somewhere happier, a new life that would let him be. But there was a thread that still connected him to his oldest friend, a bond so different from the dark god-given ink. He stared at the house, with its long shadows and dead grass covered in fresh dusted snow.
Every dragging step taken down this path was betrayal, the noose of his own creation tightening around him. Strangling the new life he had built. A death march. Shoulders curled inward and head ducked low, he ignored his roiling stomach as he walked into the Athera’s house and slammed the door behind him.
** *
“Only three months left until Veridian and still so much left to do,” Daeson murmured, looking over diagrams. “At least you’ll be with me following her to the vault for the conveyance. One less thing to worry about.”
The scene played out between them—the path Daeson would take to the vault and where he would hide within the lofted rafters while Eldric entered in plain sight at Lorali’s side. All while the Archcleric kept the masses distracted above ground, entrusting the most sacred of duties to a protégé for the first time. When her hand touched the stone and her magic surged forth, opening the vault, it would be then that Eldric struck, restraining Lorali and allowing Daeson the opportunity to breach the vault and reclaim what was his by birthright.
Eldric’s skin prickled with unease. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he imagined the betrayal in her eyes. Guilt pulled the threads between his ribs tight, causing his hands to curl into fists at the thought of Lorali Wynmar despising him for the rest of her life. Talking through the plan and imagining the different scenarios made it real. He could see the stone surrounding him, feel the damp chill clinging to his skin, hear the hurt in her voice when she asked how could you?
He thought the feeling would pass as he settled into old rhythms, or that their sparse time together might ease the pain. But it didn’t. She was beneath his skin, whispering at the edges of his mind. Every thought he had was painted with her.
“I don’t think I can do this,” he finally whispered after all the possibilities were laid out. Daeson sighed, as if Eldric were a child in need of reprimand.
“We’ve already been through this. There is nobody else. You are the only person who can get close enough to her without raising suspicion. We need every second of advantage that you can buy us by being there.”
How much more would Daeson ask for, and how much was Eldric willing to give? He shook his head, lips pressed firmly together. “No, I mean it, Daeson. I can’t do this. I can’t hurt her. You have to find someone else.”
“What about how the Order has hurt her? The other dozens of kids left orphaned due to their whims? The city and land that is crumbling beneath its feet?”
Eldric could see it, the picture Daeson painted that would make him bend to his desires as he always did, with stunning clarity. His face burned as feelings he couldn’t name sprang forth, the seam of a dam beginning to burst .
“Dammit, I said no! ” Eldric seethed, slamming his hands against the table as he stood, breaths coming in ragged puffs.
Silence settled within the basement. While he was hot with anger, a coldness seeped into his friend’s bones, his muscles freezing, eyes piercing. He scoffed, shaking his head as he pushed the papers to the middle of the table, leaning back into the chair with a look of disbelief.
“You’re choosing her—someone you’ve only known for a moment—over me? Someone who has been by your side for years?”
“Don’t do this, Daeson.” Eldric ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the roots as he turned his back on his friend. He opened his mouth, then shut it again as he heard the chair scrape against stone and braced himself for yelling, for anger. But the calm was worse. It frosted over his skin, making him freeze as his friend stepped into his line of sight.
“Can you live with yourself if you let this plan fail? If you leave me to the gallows because you were too caught up in some girl you barely know?”
They stood there, eye to eye, breath to breath. His dry throat tightened, his throbbing heartbeat echoing inside his chest so loud he wondered if Daeson could hear it. How it hurt, how it tore at him to stand here and draw this line. Eldric did not look away. Prayed his friend did not cross it.
“Like I said: Find someone else.”
***
The swirling snow fell quietly, his tracks leading from where he left his best friend in a basement filled with treason. The only thing he wanted more than to scream into the subdued night was a steaming cup of floral tea with honeyed whiskey in front of a fire, and Lorali’s quiet mumblings at his side as she read whatever tome she had her hands on for the evening. He hadn’t realized how much solace he found in their routine until it was no longer there. The thought of missing it forever was unbearable. The cottage windows glowed faintly from the hearth, no other signs of life within as he unlocked the door. Another late night.
He hung his coat on the rack, breathing in the stillness that was their home as his mind reeled from his fight with Daeson. He hadn’t known there was a line he would not cross for him, but here they were. It was her. She was who he could not betray. The oath he could never break.
Rubbing his hands across his face, he felt the weight of it in his bones as he walked to his room. His blood ran cold as he opened the door. Fresh folded linens lay on the edge of the bed, stacked like stones at a river’s edge. Splayed across the bed were the contents of the personnel file that he had tucked beneath his bed.
He forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to speak. How to do anything except turn and run across the hall with a panicked knock on her door as he called her name, opening it when she didn’t answer. Her dresser was open, clothes missing. The portrait of her parents absent from her desk. Bile rose within his throat, heart thundering in panic as he stood there, mind racing, wondering what to do as he noticed the bracelet with frayed threads that they’d exchanged lying in its place.