Chapter 47 #2
As if hearing that thought, the Angel said, “You may ask what you are wondering.”
Emmeline almost asked about Roremar immediately, but the wistfulness in Valyrie’s stare had her pausing. “Did you live here?”
“In the manor?” Valyrie shifted to look at her, wings held high.
That eternal lilac ether shimmered off the feathers in a constant waterfall, as if it was an endless well.
“No, I did not live here. While certain buildings and monuments sustain from my rule, most of the city was rebuilt many years after my time.”
“But you lived in Valyn?” Emmeline asked. Valyrie lifted a quizzical silver brow, and Emmeline added, “I’ve read a lot about your life.”
Cosmo-swirling eyes scanned Emmeline. Seeing what? She wasn’t sure. Didn’t think she liked it. Her thumb twirled the opal ring on her first finger.
“What else do you know?” Valyrie asked.
“I know this city was founded in your name as all the capital cities of the warrior territories were for their Angels. I know of the disputes legends speak of between you and your comrades. I’ve deduced each district is made for a Fate, like a puzzle of the Starsearcher’s cause.”
“You have?”
Emmeline paused. She hadn’t found it difficult to decipher, but something about that being the fact to catch the Angel’s attention piqued her interest. She nodded, but Valyrie only blinked patiently at her, as if waiting for Emmeline to elaborate.
Not knowing exactly what the Angel wanted from her, Emmeline went on, “I know what your tournament was originally created for.”
It came out more challenging than she’d intended, the accusation hanging in the night air like a secret.
It was Valyrie’s turn to swallow uncomfortably. The clouds shifted above, moonlight illuminating a flicker of pain in her expression, there and gone so fast, Emmeline wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t been so attuned to the Fates and their master.
“I saw it,” Emmeline whispered. “I saw the truth about all of it. You created the Fates using this tournament. You gave them kernels of your own magic.”
At that, Valyrie’s head tilted. “You found my seeing chamber?”
Emmeline nodded, and the Angel’s eyes fogged over, silver swirling in her navy irises. Ice skittered down Emmeline’s spine as she waited, twirling her ring around her finger.
“Odd…” Valyrie mused, long lashes blinking as she thought.
“What is?”
“I knew someone crossed the threshold. I felt the tremor two nights ago.” Ether shimmered off her feathers. “But I could not see who.”
“You felt it?”
Valyrie lifted a hand, lilac and blue twirling around her delicate fingers. “That chamber is sacred, thus the magic is, too.”
Emmeline didn’t miss the distinction that that space was tied to her magic, yet she’d said minutes ago that most of Valyn was built after her time.
“Can you usually see people who go there?” Emmeline asked.
“People do not usually find it, my girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“There is much hidden in Valyn that cannot be accessed by mere Starsearchers. Wards keep them away should they venture too close.”
“Underground, right?” Emmeline asked, recalling the vast network of tunnels around the seeing chamber, the ones she’d found in the Ninth District, and the way her magic had reacted to all of them.
Valyrie nodded. “Secrets have been buried beneath this city for many, many years.”
Yet, the crypt let Emmeline and Roremar right in, as if the seeing chamber wanted to be found.
The chill worked down Emmeline’s spine. “So, you felt when I entered, but you couldn’t see me there?”
“No.”
“And Roremar?”
“I could not see the Reckless either.”
“Can you see…” Emmeline’s throat was dry as the question formed, afraid of what Valyrie would say. She swallowed. “Can you see him otherwise? What will become of him?”
The stars in Valyrie’s eyes swirled faster, ether weaving between the silky strands of her hair. She blinked slowly. “I cannot. A few possibilities, but not nearly all.” Her gaze drifted to the city again. “It is odd…”
Starfire rippled through Emmeline as she stood with the Angel, a steady, crackling hum, still pounding into the balls of her feet. Valyrie appeared to be mulling it over, too, her features in that placid, unreadable expression that set Emmeline on edge.
“I’m going to assume there’s not many people you cannot read,” Emmeline said. No warrior could read the gods, Angels, or Fates. She’d seen Valyrie before in readings, but it was always a projection of her, not a reading of the Angel’s future. But for Valyrie to be blocked?
That was a boundary Emmeline had never heard of.
The Angel’s attention swung back to Emmeline, eyes steady again. Burrowing into her in a way no one—not even Roremar—did. As if Valyrie had pieces of Emmeline even she didn’t know existed.
“No,” Valyrie confirmed. “There are not many I cannot read.”
Emmeline’s throat tightened. Her natural instinct to remain unseen sank its claws into her heart, an extra layer of skin wrapping around her ribs, burying all those secrets she’d recently let go.
“Why don’t you stop this tournament?” Emmeline asked. “You created it. Why don’t you stop the Chancellor now?”
Valyrie’s eyes dropped to Emmeline’s hand, still twisting her ring, and her perfect brows creased.
“Things are already in motion.”
“Don’t,” Emmeline snapped. “Don’t say it’s too late.”
“It is. Not only for the trials, but for other fortunes.”
“I understand why some warriors feel that way, but you’re the Angel, for Fates’ sake! You are the sole being who can stop Rocarri.”
“You are a fan of mythology, Emmeline. What happens if you cut off the head of a hydra?” Valyrie asked calmly.
“Another grows in its place.”
The Angel nodded.
“Then take the beast’s heart,” Emmeline suggested. “Don’t allow him to use your people this way. People who honor you each night. Who pray to you for guidance and safety.”
“It is not always that easy to bend fate. Trust me, Emmeline. I have tried many a time.”
Meaning even if she did stop Rocarri, the fortune that was written would still occur. These men would die. Roremar would die. And Emmeline would be bonded to another.
Unless she changed Fate herself.
Valyrie looked back at the city, starry eyes tracing the patterns of the winding streets.
“I cannot read anything of your fortune nor the Reckless’s, but I have lived a great many years, and I have learned this: Do not push away those whom you truly love.
It will only result in your own suffering in the end. ”
“That’s fine,” Emmeline deadpanned. “So long as it’s not his, that’s fine.”
Valyrie looked at her in a way that made Emmeline feel translucent. “And if the two are so entwined?”