Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
“The Northern border has three more acres of twisted trees since last week.” I push a report across the small table in our sitting room. It’s just me, Sterling, a copy of the big map from the council chamber, and a whole stack of ever-growing reports. “That’s twice the rate of the previous month.”
Sterling nods, tracking the inked border that keeps shifting and advancing. “And the Devoted?” He scribbles a note on the bottom corner.
“Getting bolder.” I flip to another report, attempting to ignore the ache growing behind my eyes.
“It’s only been a day since they made their worldwide declaration.
They’ve started public displays of elemental magic at their gatherings.
Nothing spectacular, but enough to draw crowds.
Enough to make promises they can’t possibly fulfill about returning magic to their followers. ”
Sterling grunts.
We’ve been at this all day, and I’m pretty sure he slept poorly last night.
He woke with bags under his eyes, and the reports started rolling in before Rhiann even finished helping us get ready for the small court Bastian holds for emergency cases only.
The council is off ensuring our orders are being implemented properly.
Leesa, Helene, and Elijah are working with Agnar and Rafe to test magic merging with Tirenese and non-Tirenese people.
The stonemasons have changed their priority from repairing walls to building grow houses for the Fusion Root Vine plants we’ve started collecting.
Sterling sets his quill down. “We could station more guards near—”
The air in the room thickens and condenses like gathering storm clouds.
His head snaps up, and he reaches for his sword. The weapon isn’t on his hip because we haven’t yet managed to leave our chambers today. His sword, along with mine, remain in our bedroom.
As a haze forms in the air, the temperature drops, dew forms, and the hairs on my arms rise.
Sterling stills. I open my connection to the dragons, feeling the instant snap of the mental cord. If we need aid, I want to be ready.
The air continues to coalesce into the shimmering, near-transparent figure of Rivlan. Water glows from within his figure, through eyes that somehow reveal a depth of knowledge beyond mortal comprehension. He’s not in his fully human form.
I frown with discontent. Why is the god who offered to make Sterling a champion appearing in our rooms? Maybe the danger hasn’t passed.
Sterling, on the other hand, tosses the papers onto the table and rubs his eyes. “Let me guess. You’ve been watching.”
“I have.” Rivlan’s watery features shift and flow, but his voice contains an element I’d never expect.
Fear. “The expanding grove. The Devoted’s calculated displays of magic.
Everything. You handled the situation well, but things will worsen.
The gods mark their territory like animals now, and they care nothing for the mortals caught between.
What are you and Lark,” he nods to me, “to do in such times, when a viable solution is beyond your means?”
I catch Sterling’s shoulders subtly relaxing. It’s as if he’s relieved to hear someone else spell out what neither of us will admit. We’re plugging holes in a dam when the gods have offered us a permanent solution.
Still, discomfort prickles my spine.
“And you know a better way?” Sterling keeps his face neutral and his tone casual. As if he’s speaking with a council member instead of an honest to goodness god.
“I can give you a way to end this.” Rivlan’s essence, a cool mist that whispers across my skin, consumes the room. “These attacks are symptoms. The gods are at war. The mortal realm is their battleground.”
I lift my chin, refusing to let his presence intimidate me. “Forgive my confusion, but how does a fighting match end this?”
Rivlan’s liquid eyes focus on me. “The Champions Match is an ancient tradition, bound by covenant. When gods reach an impasse that threatens to spill into war, we may invoke that covenant.”
A sinking feeling in my gut informs me that I already know where this leads.
“What covenant?”
He drifts closer, leaving no wet footprints on the plush rug. “The most sacred of agreements between gods. Created after the Five-Fold Wars.”
Between one step and the next, his form solidifies.
Weird, and a little creepy. I refuse to even attempt to wrap my mind around the amount of power the gods have and what they can do.
His features sharpen. Even the hair on his head materializes, the locks hanging thick over his shoulders and cascading down his back like a cape.
Sterling arches a brow at me.
“I haven’t gotten to any covenants yet.” Since becoming queen, I’ve been reading a book about the Five-Fold Wars and studying our kingdom’s history, but embarrassing gaps remain in my knowledge. I haven’t had enough time to learn everything yet.
Not like I’ve been busy dealing with crisis after crisis or anything.
Rivlan’s smile is a disconcerting sight on his fluid features. His skin has adopted an almost human appearance, though he still moves with an alien grace. “The covenant allows us to settle our differences through champions rather than unleashing our full powers upon the mortal world.”
Sterling’s gaze skims over me before returning to Rivlan. While his expression reveals nothing, his fingers stop drumming on the table. “And you want me to be your champion.”
“Yes.” Rivlan’s eyes are deep pools. “A god in the conflict must name a willing champion. These champions face each other in combat to determine which god’s vision prevails.”
My stomach clenches. “To the death?”
“Well, of course. If one isn’t willing to die for their god’s cause, they’re not worth the amount of training it requires to mold them into champions.
” Rivlan smooths the sleek black coat that has formed along his body.
“The stakes must be absolute for the covenant to bind. But understand what this means. One death instead of thousands. Millions, even.”
Sterling’s fingers flex. “And if I win?”
“Zeru and his faction must abandon their plans to dominate mortals. They must accept a more balanced relationship between gods and humanity.” Rivlan’s voice grows passionate, his nearly solid form gushing with intensity.
“No more manipulation, no more treating humans as pawns. As objects of possession.”
“And if he loses?” If he dies…
I shove down the fear bubbling up inside me. Ignoring mind-numbing terror every time Sterling’s life is endangered should be almost routine by this point.
Rivlan pins me with his steely gaze. “The gods would rule more directly, demanding increasing devotion with dire consequences for anyone who displeases them.” He lifts his chin and pauses for dramatic effect. “Any of the gods.”
The words punch the air from my lungs.
I fight to keep my expression neutral, to breathe normally, to not leap across the table and scream at this god for even daring to suggest such an idea.
The gods often ask for conflicting things, which is why their temples are kept so far apart in some cases. You cannot live in the darkness of Nyc while also maintaining Ziva’s flames.
Rivlan studies Sterling again, and I can’t help but notice their similarities. Both are tall. Both wear their silky hair to their shoulders. Both possess long, muscular torsos. “But he won’t lose. His potential is extraordinary. With proper training, he’ll be unbeatable.”
Sterling and I exchange glances.
I give a slight head shake, trying to convey my doubt without words. There’s more to this. There must be. The gods never present simple solutions. I’m one-thousand-percent positive I don’t want Sterling to accept this mission.
It’s too risky, and we can’t trust any of the gods.
Not to mention, imagining Sterling losing me along with generations of his family to old age guts me. Living lifetime after lifetime without me or the people he loves.
But even as that thought manifests, I feel a twinge. A twinge I don’t want to acknowledge.
Guilt.
Am I holding him back from his life’s purpose?
Rivlan observes our silent communication as if he has no stake in Sterling’s decision one way or the other. “How’s the wedding planning going?”
A startled laugh escapes me. “What?”
On a list of one hundred things I never expected a god to utter, that’s got to be in the top five.
Rivlan glides over to the fireplace. “Get any good gifts?”
Sterling rises to his feet, covered in a rainbow display. “Why?”
I stand, too, confused by this sudden shift in conversation.
The god holds his hands to the fire, seeming to enjoy the heat. “The diamond waterfall was from me.”
“You sent us a wedding gift?” I’d completely forgotten about the strange present. With everything that’s happened since, resolving that mystery fell to the bottom of the priority list.
“Indeed. It’s more than mere decoration. My gift can provide magic to humans in all kingdoms.”
Hope flares in my chest. The solution to our problem has been locked up in the gift room all along? “But why? Why give us a way to restore magic?”
Rivlan’s essence shimmers when he shrugs.
“If he is my champion, I will teach you.” He gestures to encompass the maps on our table and the reports of growing unrest. “Unless you prefer watching your world rip itself apart? I do not want that. You do not want that. And it does not need to be that way.”
Indecision freezes me on the spot.
The solution is right here, if only Sterling reaches out and grasps it. My ribcage tightens, strangling my lungs. I feel as though my mind, soul, and heart are all battling each other.
Sterling takes a hesitant step toward Rivlan. “When would I need to fight?”
No. Absolutely not.
He can’t be seriously considering this.
My first reaction is purely emotional, but rational reasoning soon prevails. If I were the one being offered this chance, I would seize it.
I know I would.
“That’s the beauty. It’s up to you, Knox.
” Rivlan glides away from the fire, and the prisms slide to the wall before disappearing.
“The first named champion selects when and where the match occurs. A provision to motivate the gods to pursue this route versus war. While the Guardian is a, well, a guardian, he has not yet been named a champion in this war. The only condition is that the match must occur within a year and a day of the naming.”
Sterling remains quiet, his eyes distant and considering. He won’t meet my gaze. Won’t even glance in my direction. My emotions have tangled themselves into a giant knot, and I no longer have any clue how I feel.
Shock. Pain. Eagerness. Hope. Grief. Panic. Love. A giant whirlpool that robs me of my voice.
“You’ve felt it, haven’t you, Knox?” Rivlan circles Sterling like a shark. “The water responding differently as of late?”
Sterling’s attention fixes on the water pitcher on our table. “Every time I use it, it changes. Stronger, but…yes, stranger too.”
“And it will get stronger still.” Rivlan leans over Sterling to speak directly in his ear.
“I vow to you, Knox, your power has been waiting for this moment. Your true potential, dormant until now, awaits. We can tap into that magic. Amplify it tenfold, and then another ten. You’re more powerful than you know, and I can help you improve. ”
For several long moments, Sterling doesn’t move. “Why me?”
“Because you understand power isn’t just strength. It must serve a purpose.” Rivlan’s smile gives him an oddly human appearance. “You want to protect your people, regardless of rank or birthing station. Yet you also reach out to help your neighbors. I want to protect all people from this war.”
Sterling studies him. “By making me fight in it?”
“By providing you with the opportunity to end it. You’ve been fighting in it since it started. With far less power than what I offer you.” Rivlan’s form softens. “And Knox…there is no ‘me making you.’ It is all yours. Your choice. Your power.”
Indecision wars in Sterling’s eyes.
This isn’t a competition.
This is about saving our people…and about Sterling achieving his destiny without the woman he loves trying to stop him. I would have felt betrayed if he’d stood in my way. I loved him more because he never tried.
How can I stand in his way now, if this is what he needs to do?
With uncertainty churning in my gut, I paste on a reassuring smile and give the subtlest of nods.
Sterling, eyes still on me, directs his question to Rivlan. “When do we start?”
“When you formally accept.”
Sterling lifts his chin. “I agree to become the guardian and your champion.”
The air stills, as if everything around us is suddenly listening.
The stars are watching.
I shiver. Despite his stoic pose, goose bumps erupt on Sterling’s arms. The candles flicker before burning brighter. I swear the water in the pitcher on our table rises up and reaches for Sterling.
Rivlan nods, visibly relieved. “Then your training starts tomorrow. We’ll worry about setting the date later. After we’ve had a chance to assess your abilities. Until then, things will start calming down in your world.”
Sterling’s smile feels like the first in a long time. I understand why. He can stop a war between the gods and properly return magic to the world. That’s all that should matter, right?
After the God of Water leaves, dissolving like mist at summer’s dawn, the quiet between us lingers. In the center of our chamber, we hold each other, his arms wrapped tight around me, my face buried in his chest. His heartbeat drums a steady thrum in my ear.
“We’ll figure it out,” Sterling murmurs into my hair.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. We both know which “it” he means. Not the gods. Not the war.
The years. The endless years ahead that we might not get to share.
I hold him tighter, memorizing the feel of him, the scent of him, the solid presence of him in my arms. In case this is all we get.