Chapter 21
Corinne shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she stood by the castle gates with Danai, Nik, and Iliana, waiting for Danai’s father to arrive so they could leave.
She’d forgotten about the stricter rules surrounding the entering and leaving of the grounds; she hadn’t left since they’d been enforced.
Danai and Nik exchanged updates about their respective days with an occasional contribution from Iliana, and Corinne was the first to notice Councilor Toro’s arrival. He stepped outside the castle and walked toward them with a stack of books in his hands, which Nik and Danai both offered to take.
“Thank you,” Councilor Toro said. “Shall we be on our way, then?”
The guards let them through without trouble, assured that Corinne, Nik, Iliana, and Danai would be returning later that night. They took an immediate right down a wide street along the castle’s perimeter wall.
As the evening sun shone down on the cobbled streets and clay roofs, Corinne realized she’d never actually been in Vytanos during the day.
The stone and stucco buildings were a mix of tans, blues, and grays on this street, shops closing up for the day, and most homes were at least two stories high.
The rooftop Aryel had climbed the night they’d been attacked was back the other way, in the southwestern part of the city.
They headed north for two more blocks before coming upon a two-story stone house covered in flowering vines and accented by two wrought-iron window fixtures.
A small but beautiful garden was walled in around the front side, with a little stone path leading to the door.
The roof, from here, at least, seemed to be open, with more flowering vines wrapped around a wooden pergola.
Councilor Toro opened the gate and held it for Danai and Nik so they wouldn’t drop his books, and Iliana and Corinne followed.
The moment she stepped inside, Corinne’s mouth was watering at the aromas in the air.
The foyer was dark, leading down a narrow hall that opened into a large kitchen with wide, short windows.
A small woman with raven hair identical to Danai’s looked over her shoulder from the stove where she was stirring one of three pots.
Ingredients and already-prepared food items lay behind her on an island counter.
“I hope you’re all hungry,” she said, flashing a bright smile. The warm sepia skin of her face was caked in flour on one side. “Oh, a new face?”
“Amma, this is Corinne,” Danai said, beckoning Corinne forward. She stepped toward the woman a little timidly, her face warming. “She’s a Lightguard.”
Danai’s mother’s mouth popped open, and she let her spoon drop to the side of the pot she’d been stirring.
“It’s an honor to have a Lightguard in my home,” she said, stepping forward to take Corinne’s hand. “I’m Selana.”
“The honor is mine, Selana,” Corinne said, and she meant it.
A month ago, Selana’s reverence might have felt deserved, even expected. Now it felt unearned, but Corinne would do her best to be worthy of it.
“You all can wait upstairs,” Selana said. “I’ll call you down when it’s time to help haul everything up there.”
“Thanks, Amma,” Danai said.
Nik stepped forward to accept a kiss on the cheek from Selana, and a quick whispered exchange resulted in a cackle on her part.
Iliana stole a small square of flatbread from the counter and popped it into her mouth, holding a finger up to her lips at Corinne before following Danai and Nik toward the stairs.
They passed by the second floor, which was a short hallway with two doors on either side, and emerged onto the rooftop with the pergola.
It was even lovelier than Corinne had expected it to be, covered in greenery and a mix of deep fuchsia, violet, and yellow flowers.
A large wooden table stood at the center, already set with small plates and utensils.
One side boasted a bench like those in the castle dining hall, and the other had four identical wooden chairs.
Corinne could’ve stayed up there for days, but what truly took her breath away was when Danai beckoned her over to the stone railing on the far side.
They had a view of the entire city, even better than the view from the breezeway close to Aryel’s rooms. It was somehow both in the city and above it all, and the forests and hills beyond its gates stretched for miles.
The mountains rose tall to the north and south, resolute against the deep azure sky.
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Danai asked wryly. Nik and Iliana had taken seats at the table already, making themselves comfortable. “The castle has some views, but this is my favorite in all of Vytanos.”
“And you grew up here?”
Danai rested their arms on the railing. “I did. I’m very fortunate.”
“Corinne, have you told Nik that you’ve read that pirate book yet?” Iliana called, and Corinne turned to meet Nik’s excited gaze.
“You’ve read The Sea of Starlight?”
Corinne joined Nik at the table, and Iliana and Danai gaped at them as they went on at length about the novel.
“Is it offensive that I’m surprised a Lightguard is so well-read?” Danai asked when they both took a breath, and Iliana smacked their arm.
“Since when are you concerned with being offensive?” Nik asked, rolling his eyes.
“When you think about it, Lightguards are keepers of stories,” Corinne said, smiling softly. “We know all of Asheran history and all the legends of the gods.”
“Can you tell us a story?” Danai asked, and Nik’s eyes brightened.
“I…” Corinne looked at their expectant faces and sighed. “What kind of story?”
“Whatever first comes to mind,” Danai said, settling in their chair and leaning their head on Nik’s shoulder.
Even Iliana couldn’t hide the curiosity on her face.
“All right.” Corinne lifted her right hand, palm aligned with her forehead, fingers gracefully curved, and summoned a small bit of light.
The three of them watched her, frozen in place. She closed her eyes.
“We honor the Goddess Helaera for Her Light, which gives us life and warmth and guides us wherever we go. May she speak through my voice and attend my heart.”
Corinne lowered her hand, holding a glowing orb of light in her palms by the center of her chest, and opened her eyes again.
“Tales of light are often spun out of darkness. When mortals had only walked the earth for a century, the goddesses Helaera and Arytalis worked in tandem. Sisters, daughters of the Sky herself, Day and Night shepherding the turn of the earth and the passing of time.
“But wicked things can fester in the dark. Arytalis grew jealous of her sister, of the mortals’ love for her when they feared the dark and the night.
So Arytalis granted humans her power, hoping such a gift would bring them to understand her.
The humans wielding those shadows wrought only more fear, though—violence against their fellows, corruption as they sought dominion over those without magic.
Helaera confronted Arytalis about this mistake, and the night goddess denied any wrongdoing.
“Desperate to prevent the Nightrenders from annihilating the other humans and each other, Helaera chose a select few to be granted her power, the power of sunlight, of warmth, of healing.
Lightguards, she named them—divine protectors.
They defended the nonmagic humans for a time, until once again, Arytalis grew bitter with jealousy.
Her rage strengthened the Nightrenders, who hunted the Lightguards to near extinction.
“In a final attempt to salvage humankind, Helaera gathered the Lightguards and nonmagic folk and drove her great spear into the earth, carving out a piece of it where the mortals could be safe. Along its perimeter, she infused a shield of divine Light. Thus Ashera was split from the Shadowlands, and thus we have dwelt for a millennium, the Boundary kept intact and ever watched by Lightguards.”
When Corinne finished, her light receded, and she was met by utter silence and blank stares.
Discomfort crept up her spine; had she said something to frighten or offend them?
It was the most commonly told story she knew, but perhaps the origin of Ashera was not so widely known outside the monastery.
“That was brilliant,” Nik said breathlessly, and Danai blinked before they started applauding softly. “Truly, Corinne, thank you for sharing that. I’ve never heard a story orated that way.”
“Oh,” Corinne said, flushing. “Well, you’re welcome.”
“Danai!” Selana’s voice rang out from downstairs. “Time to eat!”
Thank Helaera for that. Corinne rose with the others to hurry downstairs and help retrieve the platters of food.
It was an incredible assortment of colors, and she tasted at least one of everything while they ate together; grape leaves wrapped around a mixture of rice and goat cheese, roasted chicken and garlic, and the best flatbread she’d ever had.
She wasn’t able to contribute much to the conversation outside of jokes about training and guard duty, but the peace that befell her as she sat there with Danai’s family and her friends took her by surprise.
The moment she noticed the contented warmth within her, though, it began slipping away.
Danai and Iliana had begun good-naturedly arguing about the merits of participating in street fighting for pay when Corinne quietly slipped over to the roof’s railing again.
Nik and Councilor Toro remained deep in quiet conversation over wine.
Corinne leaned on the railing as the sun set over Vytanos, fighting the growing sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, forcing herself to breathe.
“Everything all right, dear?”
Selana appeared beside her, dark brown eyes full of gentle knowing. It was a mother’s look, a look she hadn’t seen in many years but recognized all the same. Corinne couldn’t find the words.
“I knew another Lightguard once,” Selana said, leaning beside Corinne and looking out over the city.
Corinne’s surprise was enough to make the turbulence within her settle somewhat.
“She was from my home village, Orynas. We’d been best friends as children, and wrote to each other once we both learned how, but her letters dwindled as the years passed.
She returned as a young woman, gleaming sword and honed magic.
It was one of my greatest sadnesses that she no longer wished to be my friend. ”
A knife twisted in Corinne’s gut. I can’t put my own soul at risk by being friends with someone like you. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
Selana looked at her sidelong, and her gaze pierced right through Corinne.
“My sadness was primarily for her, my dear,” she said. “She had achieved all she set out to, and yet I could see how detached she had become, how she was never at peace with herself.”
Corinne looked out at the city again, a lump forming in her throat. “It…it’s not right for me to feel so content when I’m so far from the goddess. So far from the other Lightguards.”
Selana faced her fully now, tucking one of Corinne’s curls behind her ear.
“Oh, Corinne,” she said. “You of all people should know Helaera is close no matter what. And that peace you feel? That’s part of Her Light too. You should run toward those who give you such peace, not push them away.”
Corinne’s stomach unclenched. That’s part of Her Light too.
They’re just thoughts.
She’d have to decipher it all later, because it was true—she’d been taught her whole life that Helaera was goodness and comfort and light, and she felt all those things around Danai, Nik, and Iliana.
Her heart took off as she gazed out at the city. She felt those things around Aryel too.
“Come, dear,” Selana said, patting Corinne’s hand. “I’ve made some dessert for us all.”
Corinne returned to the table just as Danai emerged from the stairwell with a tray of fruit tarts. They all dug in the moment everyone was served, and Corinne closed her eyes as the sweetness washed over her tongue.
“Fuck, that’s delicious,” Iliana groaned.
Corinne nearly choked on her food, and Selana cackled as Danai slapped a hand to the table and said, “HA! Pay up!”
“Oh, hells,” Iliana said, rolling her eyes as she dug into her pocket to extract a silver coin.
Danai snatched it, shaking their head in mock disappointment.
“We all promised not to swear in front of you tonight,” Nik explained across the table, chuckling. “And that we had to pay if we did.”
Corinne couldn’t help it—she burst out laughing, and once she’d started, she couldn’t stop. The others joined her, hardly able to finish their dessert.
Cheeks sore and stomachs full, Corinne and the others helped clear the table and clean the dishes before departing.
Councilor Toro remained behind, not obligated to return to the castle that night.
Danai and Iliana bemoaned their impending night shifts as they walked, but Corinne hardly heard them, unable to relax until they’d reached the castle gates.
Being in the city at night had every one of her senses on high alert.
At least tonight she wasn’t sleep-deprived or under the influence of alcohol.
The guards at the gates promptly let them inside after verifying they recognized each of them, and Corinne exhaled.
Danai let out a dramatic sigh as they approached the entrance hall. “Well, good night, you all. Same time next week?”
“As always,” Nik said, yawning.
“Good night,” Corinne said. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“You’re welcome any time,” Danai said, draping an arm over Iliana’s shoulder as Nik kissed their cheek.
“Nik, tell your father we hate him,” Iliana said as Danai dragged her off down the corridor.
“I’ll be sure to do that,” Nik called after them. He huffed a laugh, a hand on his hip. He looked to Corinne. “I’ll see you tomorrow in the library, I’m sure.”
Corinne nodded. “See you tomorrow.”