Chapter 58
FIFTY-EIGHT
High in the Sirmayans, the Aether Paladin called Nadje shivered on a flat stretch of earth beside a crater that had once been the Aether Well.
He tried to stand, but his muscles were confused and displaced.
His time in the Bloodwitch’s body had reminded him what weight and muscles and organs felt like, but that body had moved like hot wax from a candle.
Nadje’s actual body was more like wax that had cooled.
Slowly, achingly, he rose. And the land that had been his home for so long now sharpened into detail around him.
Fir trees and spruce. Snow. Mountains, craggy and harsh against a gray sky.
He had never thought it beautiful when he’d been trapped inside the watery prison.
Now, he was struck by how beautiful it really was.
“What a gentle awakening compared to the others,” came a voice Nadje knew. Then there was the figure attached to it, materializing out of the Dreaming only a few paces away. He held a simple white robe, which he offered to Nadje.
Nadje took it, savoring the texture of the fine wool on his fingertips. “Are all the others awake?” Nadje’s voice was deeper than he remembered. Like a drum rattling beneath a symphony.
“They are all awake.”
“And Rakel?” Nadje slipped into the robe. His muscles glided more easily now. “What side has the Exalted One of Water chosen?”
“That we will have to see. You are the first I am visiting.”
Nadje smiled. It was a strange but not unwelcome sensation across his cold cheeks. “I am honored, Rook King.”
“Do not be too honored, Nadje.” The other Aether Paladin opened his hands like a performer. “We have work to do, and less time in which to do it than I had planned for. You must go to the Contested Lands.”
Nadje nodded, slowly. “Like the prophecy says? The final battle has begun?”
“Yes. Twelve must meet now on the lands long contested—and you are part of that Twelve.”
Nadje nodded. He had known this was coming; his time in the Bloodwitch had prepared him.
“I will take you to the Contested Lands,” the Rook King continued. “In the Dreaming, if you think your spirit can handle it.”
Could his spirit? Nadje closed his eyes. Grit scraped against his eyeballs, and it was a delicious, multifaceted sensation that he never wanted to end. He was free now. Free to fix what he’d done wrong a thousand years ago. Free to repair all that he had broken.
Assuming he could survive whatever came next.
“I will not be able to stay with you.” The Rook King set his hand on Nadje’s much higher shoulder. “For the dark-giver needs me. But I will take you to where I have arranged for the Lament to finish.”
Nadje opened his eyes. “I will do whatever is necessary for Sirmaya.”
“Good.” The Rook King offered a smile. Sad. Even heartbroken, as his fingers tightened on Nadje’s shoulder. “And perhaps, if Rakel will listen, there might still be some hope for her yet.
“Now come, Nadje. Brace yourself, for what comes next will be uncomfortable for a soul as old as yours.”