Chapter 22
It’s difficult to tell the time of day in this forest when the light is blotted out by the closely growing trees and the thick blanket of fog.
I miss the sun. And the moon and stars at night.
I try to make idle small talk, to which Caene just grunts or nods in response, his eyes constantly scanning the trees, his head on a swivel, his hands twitching.
He’s clearly still on edge from the gijire attack, though I’m not sure why.
He’s unbreakable. Nothing in this forest could do any lasting damage to him.
The only explanation I can come up with is he’s concerned for my safety out of guilt.
That theory causes my heart to pinch, so I shove it out of my mind.
I’m stressing myself out. The dream from weeks ago, with the gijire and Caene .
. . it was all the same. What Zave Asa said in that dungeon must have been true.
I can see events before they happen. I can see the future.
But why this particular incident with Caene?
Why not when his brothers came for me? Why do I not see the future when anyone touches me?
Why only Osper? How is any of this useful beyond fighting?
The vision of Caene and the gijire didn’t alter much and it still had the same outcome, so can I change what I’ve seen, or are my visions destined to come to pass?
These spiraling questions are driving me insane.
Talking often works as a distraction and helps calm my nerves, and his lack of answers are starting to grate on me.
I open my mouth to tell him as much, to demand once again that he tell me what he knows, when the trees disappear and the fog lifts, the sunshine blinding.
For a moment I’m perplexed, thinking we’ve reached the edge of the forest, but the timing doesn’t add up.
The Elvael Forest is gigantic, covering nearly the entire center of Lyclaven.
It should, logically, take much more than three days to walk through it, especially at the pace I’ve been setting.
Caene walks around me and continues into what I now see is a large clearing.
It appears to be perfectly circular, and upon closer inspection, the branches of the trees all seem to be growing in the direction of whichever edge of the forest is closer, away from the clearing.
The fog licks the edges of the clearing but doesn’t enter.
Nothing is growing here. Not even grass has sprouted.
The forest floor is comprised only of ashy dirt and stones.
I scurry after Caene. “What is this place?” I whisper, unwilling to make much noise here. Something doesn’t feel right.
“The Vale. The center of the forest.” Caene also lowers his voice, though his sounds more reverential than fearful.
“What happened here? Why doesn’t anything grow?”
He slows as he reaches the middle of the clearing. I follow closely on his heels, nearly bumping into him when he stops. I do not want to be here.
“It’s said that this is where the gods descended to Lyclaven to gift the Exalted with their talismans.
Where Death opened up the abysm to object.
The power they left behind has made this space inhospitable to life.
Even the trees can’t handle it.” He turns slowly in a circle, eyeing the trees.
“Sons of the Exalted houses are brought here on their eighth birthday to be assigned their power based on how pleased their patriarch is with them and how closely related to the patriarch they are. My father gave me the gift of invulnerability. It’s one of the most powerful gifts, but it’s also one of the harshest to receive.
I don’t remember much from my assignment ceremony, but I have flashes of this place, purple light, cold bare feet, and pain.
Some sons don’t survive the ceremony. Their bodies are too small, too weak, to handle it.
It’s why the Exalted need multiple heirs.
So there are replacements, spares for when one doesn’t survive. ”
I tear my eyes away from the tree line to look up at him, craning my neck to see his eyes.
They have a glassy, far-off look to them, like he’s trapped in a memory.
There’s pain and grief behind them. His hands are clenched tightly in fists and shaking.
I reach out and wrap my hand around his at his side, gently prying his fingers apart and lacing my fingers with his.
He startles, coming back to the present, but doesn’t release my hand.
He gives it a small squeeze in thanks, I think.
Caene’s eyes darken. “All I know for certain is my life changed that day. I was no longer a child but a tool whose only purpose was to fulfill the wishes of my father and whoever had the money to pay him.”
“What about your mother?” I ask softly.
He looks down at me, his eyebrows pinching.
“The Exalted patriarchs don’t marry. Reproduction is simply a contract between a patriarch and a woman, usually a Condemned.
They’re paid well for the use of their wombs and are sent on their way.
Or are killed, whichever is less costly.
In my case, my mother died in childbirth.
My father likes to say it saved him the trouble of having to kill her.
” He squeezes my hand harder, almost painfully.
“That’s awful,” I breathe. His poor mother. Poor Caene. I couldn’t imagine growing up without my mother, eccentric as she was at the end.
Caene shrugs. “It’s the way it is.”
“Well, it shouldn’t be. How can you have so little respect for another person? So little consideration?” I drop his hand like it burns me.
“It’s the way it’s always been, Vayna. I don’t like it any more than you do.
But unless I’m chosen as my father’s successor, there’s little I can do.
And I threw any chance of being patriarch away the day I walked into that sterile room and saw you strapped to that table.
” I ignore the little flutter my heart does at that.
He takes my hand again and pulls me away from the center of the Vale. We walk hand in hand to the edge without speaking. It feels as though he needs my strength to get to the other side. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t need his in this moment as well. Something is terrifying and wretched here.
As we reach the tree line on the other side, a black bird, far too large to be a raven, takes flight from the top of one of the trees.
Something inside me stirs, tells me this bird is a sign.
I think it has something to do with Isi.
Heavy dread sinks into my bones. I watch until it disappears back into the trees, releasing the weight that settled over me.
It could be warning me of something I’ve already seen happen, but the feeling inside is different from anything I’ve felt before.
This is different. I don’t know what it means, but I know in my soul it isn’t good.
We must move faster.