Chapter 18
“I never thought I’d be so happy to”—Saipha glances around and scowls—“be in another dark corridor.”
“At least this one has a candle.” I point down the narrow passage at a sconce.
“The epitome of luxury.” Saipha fakes a swoon, and I fight a laugh that feels so out of place but so welcome right now.
I lean against the wall and gulp in air, exhale fully, and do it again. It’s a fair bet this narrow passageway is without booby traps, since I don’t think they intended for us to find it, but that’s not where my mind really is.
“You were brilliant in there.” She leans against the wall next to me, catching her breath as well. When I just stare at the floor in response, she shifts, leaning, tilting her head to try to catch my eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I froze up.” I can’t help the surge of frustration and helplessness that accompanies those words. It’s enough to make me want to scream. “Twice.”
“Isola…”
“It happened last night, too.”
My friend pushes away from the wall to stand in front of me, grabs both of my shoulders, and gives me a gentle shake. “You did great in there. You were the one who got us out. Just like you did last night for Lucan. Right?”
Inadequacy hovers like an axe over the back of my neck. “I froze up then, too. He had to help me. And if it wasn’t for you, this time, who knows how long I would’ve been stuck staring at the illusion of a dragon, knees jelly.”
“Hey, hey. You disabled those sigils. I couldn’t even see them. Stop this foolishness. You’re the Isola who breaks into the Creed’s library to find ancient towers in the wall to climb to test her bravery. Who stands up to the vicar whenever she can. Who’s Valor Reborn.”
She’s not understanding—because I’ve never told anyone my secret, not even my best friend. But if we’re both going to be locked in trials like the last, where she’s going to need to count on me…she deserves the shameful truth.
“Who can’t even look at a dragon without her whole body locking up, let alone fight one.” I finally meet her gaze. Saipha’s lips part. And I’m already being crushed by her disappointment.
“I had to hold you back from running to attack a dragon the night before last,” she whispers. The truth she was going to ask me about on our first day returns to the front of her mind.
“No, you didn’t.” Disgust and self-loathing taste more bitter than the faint aroma of dragon acid that still clings to my clothes.
The Celests are the one family who’s been good to me, and I’ve lied to them.
“You weren’t holding me back. I was frozen in terror.
You know I left after the dragon was dead; I wasn’t running because I felt the pull of Etherlight and a need to slay.
I ran because of Mum and was utterly terrified the whole time even though it was dead.
I’m no hero reborn… I’m sorry I never told you. ”
My shoulders cave in on themselves.
When my friend just stares at me, I rush to explain.
“Every time I freeze…I think I’ll get over it, that next time I’ll be fine.
But every time I see one of them, I’m that scared little girl on the rooftop again.
Every time I see one of those monsters, I can feel the claw of the one that tried to kill me, puncturing through skin and breastbone, reaching for my heart like it wanted to toy with me before its kill.
” As I speak, that same scar aches. It’s been bothering me since we entered the monastery, but now the discomfort and itchiness have grown into a throbbing pain so unbearable I can’t stop myself from rubbing at it.
Saipha’s expression softens. Her hands slide down my arms, fingers lacing with mine. “And then you killed it. That day, even when you were small and most afraid, you killed a dragon. That little girl with no training, no fancy sigils, no crossbows.”
“But I don’t even know how I did it,” I whisper. I don’t even know what power I used.
“It doesn’t matter. You did it. You. And you have the eyes to prove it.” She leans away. I’m shocked she’s not running or yelling at me. “Why didn’t you tell me all this before?”
“I… I didn’t want to disappoint you,” I admit.
She blanches. “That might be the most offensive thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“What?” I repeat the words in my head, trying to figure out why.
“You think our friendship is that weak?” She smirks. The mischievous spark is returning to her eyes. Not even a room full of green dragon vapor can shake it. “I’m not abandoning you, Isola. You’re brilliant. And you’re my best friend.”
“Even if I’m a coward?”
“You’re one of the bravest people I know.” There’s not a trace of hesitation in her voice. “Bravery isn’t about conquering easy challenges. It’s about facing what scares you and doing it anyway.”
My eyes sting, and I look down. She’s far too kind to me. “I could be a liability to you in here.”
“For once, I can say with confidence that you’re not that special, Isola. Pretty much everyone in Vinguard is afraid of dragons.”
“But—”
“And besides, I know how we’re going to get you past it.”
“Oh?” I doubt she can think of anything I haven’t tried, but I’d welcome any suggestion at this point.
“By becoming Mercy Knights.”
Laughter bubbles up in me, small and brief but genuine. If the wall was mortared with Saipha’s will, it’d never need repairs. “All right.”
“Good, now that we’ve settled that—” She stops herself, looking at me from the corners of her eyes. “You don’t have anything else you’ve been meaning to tell me, do you?”
I open my mouth and nearly tell her about my deepest fear. I might be cursed. But I don’t say it. The last thing I ever do might be betraying her…but at least I’ll get to live these final days as her friend. It’s selfish, but I consider it a dying wish, should all that come to pass.
But I haven’t changed yet. Not even after tonight. Maybe I’m really not cursed.
“Not at all.” Despite my attempt at optimism, the words are ash in my mouth. All I can see is my mother’s expression when I asked her if I was cursed, panicked and afraid.
“Good. Now, let’s see if we can find our way back.”
I don’t object, and we begin walking in the general direction of up.
“Where do you think we are?” Saipha asks.
“I don’t know, maybe—”
We hear the voices at the same time. Both of us rush to press against the wall, but the muffled sounds don’t change. We dare to continue slowly, crouched on instinct. There’s only one way to get up, and we’re risking whatever’s around the bend because we’re certainly not going back down there.
Around the next corner, the streak of orange underneath the crack of a door ahead is almost blinding. It’s where this narrow passageway ends. And behind that door is where the voices are coming from.
I glance at Saipha. She nods encouragingly. We creep forward until we’re close enough to listen through the thick wood.
“…too soon. We’ll need to do more things that involve all of them.
Push them as a group to weed out prospects—look for any signs of weakness that might be attributed to the curse.
The major tests will be a good opportunity for that.
” It’s the woman who left me on the roof last night, I realize.
Given how she’s speaking, she really is in charge.
“I expect plans for the first test with the dawn.”
“Could it be a false alarm, prelate?” one of the other inquisitors asks.
“No, the dragon curse alarm was made by High Curate Kassin Thaz himself.”
Father? A chill sweeps through me from the top of my head to my feet.
“Could we run it again?”
“Unfortunately, the prototype was unstable and broke under the strain. Kassin says that he won’t have the proper supplies to make repairs for several months.”
Broke? My father’s inventions don’t break. Unless he was forced to make it in a rush? Even then… The notion is like a shoe on the wrong foot. It can’t be right.
“Even if we could fix it, it uses too much Etherlight,” the prelate continues.
“The Creed doesn’t want us drawing on the Font like that.
Besides, we don’t need any sort of alarm.
We have the same tried-and-true methods that have been used in the Tribunal for centuries.
You all saw it when the supplicants first convened.
Its signal was clear—” She pauses before confirming the truth churning in my belly.
“At least one of the supplicants this year is cursed.”