Chapter 22
CHAPTER
When Shira arrived at mine and El’s doorway with parchment in hand, I knew it was time to pull off one of my better acting jobs.
I had the benefit of knowing what was coming, so I’d thought long and hard about what it might look like if I had been notified that someone I loved had died…
a brutal death, at the hands of an enemy, no less.
Though I loved Varro, I chose to picture someone much closer to me, someone that it would feel like my very heart was being ripped from my chest should news like that arrive. Versa.
“Cress, dear. I have unfortunate news to deliver,” she said in a tone I had never heard leave her mouth toward me or any other servant. Did Shira have a soft spot after all, or was she simply that affected by delivering news of the North’s continued devastation to one of her own?
I walked calmly over to Shira and grabbed the note from her hand, opening the parchment in front of them both because I wanted multiple witnesses to the act.
I appeared to be scanning the words, and as my eyes went down the page, I allowed my hand holding it to tremble.
Then I performed a small glamour, making my skin appear pale white with shock.
“No, no, no…!” I dropped to my knees, crumpling the letter to my chest.
“What?” El squeaked. “What happened?”
She was down on the floor by my side almost immediately as I began to rock back and forth clutching the news to my chest before letting out a shrill scream of “Why?” followed by a desperate cry of absolute mourning that echoed all the way down the hallway.
As I imagined news of Versa’s untimely death, I let myself fall deep into that emotion and the feeling of utter helplessness, a tether since birth cut in half, a loss so unbearable I could only gasp for breath as my lungs felt like they collapsed inward.
Tears streamed down my face, my nose wet with moisture and my eyes bloodshot from the strain of expelling such hurt, a physical manifestation of my pain.
I pretended to be incapable of speech and shakily handed the letter to El, unsure if she could even read.
She read the letter silently, gave a look of horror to Shira and placed her hand on my back while beginning to rub it in small, comforting circles.
I continued to rock back and forth, now clutching my own chest in disbelief.
Shira tried to get my attention in between my muffled cries of grief.
“I will ask Lady Gianna if she would grant you leave so that you may attend to your sister’s funeral in Caano.” She paused in concern. “It is not common practice to grant leave for such things, but these acts happening to our citizens are unspeakable. Surely, she must understand.”
El chimed in, “Tell Lady Gianna I promise I will help tend to her needs in Cress’s absence. Please, Shira, convince her just this once!”
I continued the charade of tears and sobs, beside myself while both of them attempted to work out how they’d influence Gia to grant me leave for funeral preparations. Little did they know, Gia was already waiting for the request.
That night I did not eat dinner, and when I returned from tending to Gia, El could see my eyes were still puffy and bloodshot. Pretending Versa was dead to keep myself in a believable state of distress was exhausting.
Exertion from the day sent me into a quick and deep sleep, which I had hoped for in case Nori sought to find me again. I’d feel much better heading out with Saryn just knowing she was okay, or of any other details that would help us in our effort to curtail whatever was going on in Ledor Canyon.
I awoke the next morning with no feelings of foreign memories awaiting my interpretation or recollection.
My sleep was restless and dreamless. When I went to the dining hall with El, Shira found me and was pleased to inform me I was granted leave immediately.
El breathed a sigh of relief, and I displayed a numb but grateful expression.
“My Lady is most kind.” I nodded as Shira walked away, and El promised she was going to take the best care of Gianna while I was away.
She ate every last crumb of her breakfast while I moved the food around on my plate with fake disinterest. Afterwards, as I was packing up some of my belongings for the trip, El grilled me with questions about Gia’s preferences and how to best serve her in my absence.
Humorously, I thought about misleading El to perform my duties in ways I knew Gia detested.
I decided against the idea, though it was tempting.
I had finished packing and was prepared to make my exit when El stopped me and asked me a question that gave me pause. So much so, that I was concerned to be leaving without seeing Gia so I could relay it to her.
“Why do you use mental shields?” she asked, with an edge of innocence to an otherwise provocative question.
I had been keeping mental shields up since the day she’d met me. Why was she just now concerning herself with this? I answered a question with a question.
“Why do you care?”
There was a slight flinch in El’s expression, like my response seemed combative, challenging her.
“I-I-” she stuttered, “I was just wondering if you were trained to do that? Is it proper where you’re from?”
She sounded insecure in her response and I let the silence build between us. I’d been taught the first person to speak relinquishes their advantage in these types of conversations.
“Almost everyone…except for maybe Zarif, seems to be a buzz of pointless thoughts, but you’re not.”
“Do you think after something like the Silent Eve you should be so open and reckless with your thoughts, however innocent they may seem?” I questioned her.
El began to utter an excuse, but I interrupted her.
“After what the North did to my sister, I’d burn their people to ash if I had the chance, but does that prove my loyalty?
No one needs access to my unfiltered thoughts; is that a good enough answer for you?
” I leaned into her, using the proximity of my body to hers to exert a sense of dominance.
With such a statement, I’d solidified in her mind that I hated the North with a passion, but also that I trusted no one.
El wasn’t dimwitted, but she was na?ve. I was once like her.
In some ways, I still was. But every passing day while serving the Imperi, I learned how trust should never be given, but earned.
Saryn had prepared everything for the three-day journey to Ledor Canyon.
The first part of our trip would be on camelback.
They were more suited to the desert climate, while also capable of carrying our supplies.
The plan was eventually to transition to horseback as we got closer to the Ledor River, where the terrain was more accommodating.
I had never ridden a camel before, only read about them and seen sketches and paintings.
After securing my packs to my animal’s sides, I saddled up and squeezed my thighs tightly as it leaned forward, almost tipping me over its head before standing to its full height.
Sitting atop a camel was much higher than riding a horse, and their steps rocked and swayed the saddle far more, creating an uncomfortable experience.
Saryn, on the other hand, looked like a natural, and it made me wonder if he’d had prior missions in Artume that had provided him the opportunity to ride them more frequently.
He and I were not the type to make idle chatter, so this wasn’t a question I intended to ask him.
On any other occasion, I might have found this to be adventurous, being around a new animal and riding it through an unknown landscape.
But this time, every step that giant animal took was one towards a task I was dreading down to my very core.
Being alone with Saryn was its own adventure.
He was my mentor, so I shouldn’t fear him, but he had always trained me with unforgiving authority, and that tension remained between us at all times.
As we made our way out of the city surrounding Nasallus, I reminded myself that I was saying goodbye to civilization for at least a week.
Three days there and three back meant I’d have nothing but the company of Saryn and the silence of the desert as my companion.
I was less than thrilled at the notion, secretly wishing another one of us had been made to join us, but Saryn had insisted we needed to keep a low profile and appear unthreatening if we encountered anyone along the journey.
The others being away from their station too long could also cause a slew of other problems for us upon arriving back at the safehouse.
None of us argued with him, but Trace was the one who looked particularly displeased with the arrangement, and his concern alone had me on edge.
Trace had been in and out of these lands for some time now, wreaking havoc between villages. Why did the idea of me travelling alone with Saryn concern him?
As the hours passed, the red and orange sands of Nasallus slowly transitioned to light brown as the city itself became blurry, like a mirage in the far-off distance.
Eventually, it was no longer in sight, and the sands below the camels’ feet were now a powdery cream.
This is why the southernmost parts of Artume, the lands where no one dared to go, were referred to as the Ivory Waste.
Miles and miles of bone-colored sand in all directions could cause an inexperienced traveler to get lost easily.
But we were not headed south, we were headed west, keeping the Ledor River to our right and ensuring we wouldn’t become disoriented by the dunes of this strange and vast place.