Chapter Thirty-Eight
Irefuse to stay in the temple. I ignore the scholars’ apologies and sneer at their thanks. Maybe one day I’ll be able to forgive them.
Not today.
Andras and Chitai wrap Trick’s body in a cloak and bring him with us. Kaelen, clothed again, directs the construction of the pyre I demanded. Elianna murmurs words of magic and tosses a satchel onto the fire, so the smoke is scented only with wood, not…anything else.
I won’t let them bury him. Never another dark, closed space for Trick. Certainly not for eternity.
I stand for my friend as his body burns, singing the lullaby no one ever sang to him when he was a child.
And then I dig into the tube holding all I own in the world and pull out the pages of my favorite book, Captain Wynona Wavedancer and the Battle of the Krakens.
Trick and I spent hours reading and talking about this story and planning future adventures we both knew we’d likely never have.
I toss them into the flames. It’s only right that I sacrifice something for this man who sacrificed everything for me. For our quest.
Not the carving, which is all I have left of him.
Not my freedom papers—Trick would never have let me give those up.
But the pages of my favorite book, infused with the laughter he and I shared. With the hope I dared to have when Trick was at my side.
“Now we call the goddess,” I tell my companions, gathered with me to honor my friend. “We tell her that Trick was a hero.”
“Soli,” Kaelen says, standing next to me. “You … you used her amulet. What if—”
“I know. I knew it was wrong when I did it. Knew Artemisen might kill me for it. But Trick …” My voice breaks, and I can’t continue.
“Trick died a hero,” Kaelen says firmly. “Trying to protect you. You made the right choice, and damn the goddess if she doesn’t agree. I’ll stand between you and Artemisen. Between you and death itself if I have to.”
“As will we all,” Andras says, his voice ringing out against the crackle of flames.
“Yes,” Chitai says.
“Always,” Bern says.
Agreements come from Elianna and Sergeant Neville, too.
My heart fills with this support from the people I’ve come to know as my friends.
As my family.
“We should call her.” I pull the key out of my pocket and add it to the chain, but hold it separate from the amulet and the first key for the time being. Then I gaze in turn at each of my friends’ faces. “But first, I need to say something. To all of you.”
I have to fight back the tears and speak past the sudden lump in my throat. “I haven’t had any real friends in my entire life. And I haven’t had a family since I was four years old.” I stop to inhale a deep, shuddering breath.
“But you—all of you—have become more than just my companions on this quest. You’re my friends. Even … even my family. I’ll be so sorry not to get to know you better if … if she kills me for what I did. I hope … I hope you will remember me with kindness. I—”
Angrily, I use my sleeve to wipe away the tears I can’t stop. “I know it wasn’t enough, but I promise I did my very best.”
I whirl around to put my back to them. I can’t look at them any longer without totally breaking down.
But they don’t let me avoid them for long.
One by one, they approach. Elianna and Bern hug me. Andras touches my arm and bows. Chitai hands me another of her seemingly limitless supply of blades.
“In case you need it in the afterlife,” she says solemnly.
I take it, a smile breaking through my tears.
Sergeant Neville gruffly pats me on the back, then grunts and envelops me in a bear hug.
And then Kaelen.
My Kaelen.
He pulls me into an embrace and kisses me. He’s gentle, and the kiss lasts only a moment, but then he bends his head to mine and whispers in my ear. “She’ll have to go through me to take you.”
“You know she can,” I whisper back, anguish all but choking me.
“Then she’ll have to take me, too. We can go into the next adventure together.”
He can’t possibly mean that, can he? But when I look into his beautiful violet eyes for what may be the last time, I see nothing but sincerity.
“Well. We can’t have that. Valourian needs her king.” I blow out a breath and wipe my face. “Should we just get it over with? As Sergeant Neville says, no use being late to a place, even if you don’t want to go.”
I smile at the old soldier, but his face is so sad I can’t look at him for long. Still, he nods.
They all do.
I let the key drop to the center of the chain, the soft clink of metal on metal as loud as thunder in the clearing.
A familiar bolt of light shines from the amulet.
A female form appears in the light.
I hear Artemisen’s voice.
But this time, she’s not only in my head or speaking through me.
She’s stronger. We can all hear her.
“Ah, my Solitude,” she says. Her voice is infused with so much sadness it buffets me, nearly driving me to my knees.
But I refuse to bow before justice.
I made the choice. I’ll stand to face whatever fate I earned.
“My lady, before you take any action against me, I want you to know that Trick died a hero. He gave his life to protect me and this quest. If you … if you see him beyond the stars …” A sob blocks my throat.
“I am sorry you lost your friend. I will watch for him. But we must address your transgression.”
“She did what she had to do, my lady,” Kaelen says, stepping forward and bowing. “If you need to punish someone, take me.”
“No!” I grab Kaelen’s arm. “Never. It was my choice, and the consequences will likewise be mine.”
“You belittle her if you try to shield her, young prince,” the goddess says sternly.
I step slightly in front of Kaelen before his courage gets him killed, too. “I made the choice. Do with me as you must. I’m so sorry I failed you, though.” I have to stop and fight back tears. “I did my best.”
Artemisen tilts her head and considers me, waving a hand to silence the others when they try to defend me.
“You did not fail me or the quest, but you violated the balance over which I rule. You used my amulet to kill, no matter that your reasons were sound. You chose to profane the amulet to commit murder.”
“But she had no choice,” Elianna says hotly, her eyes glowing with suppressed power.
Artemisen turns to her. “The Last Kiss of Breath, sorcerer? You protected my amulet with your arts?”
“I did.”
“Well done. But do not question my reasoning. It is not for a sorcerer to argue against the dictates of the gods.” Power, raw and unrestrained, lashes through the air, and we all bow.
Even imprisoned, Artemisen is still a goddess. I hope my friends remember that after I’m gone.
“My lady,” Andras says. “Long have I yearned to free you, but Soli’s actions only helped to guarantee success for our quest. Please spare her life.”
“My Sylvan,” the goddess says sadly but with a hint of fondness for her warrior. “Success without balance cannot hold, or the quest fails.”
“I don’t question you,” I say, swallowing hard. “If I must die for my choice, so be it. But it was my choice. I’ve had little enough cause to determine my own destiny in my life. If doing so leads to my death, I go to my grave with my head held high.”
Artemisen stares at me for so long my skin begins to crawl with dread, anticipating the fire that will, this time, burn me to ashes where I stand.
I bow my head but decide I’d rather look at my friends one more time. At Kaelen—my prince. My love. “Please be safe. And succeed. You brought more to my life in the short time we were together than I can possibly tell you.”
They all start talking again—protesting—but the goddess stops them with a raised palm. “There are two things I can do to restore the balance shaken this day.”
She lifts her hands to the sky and calls out a word.
A word I don’t hear so much as feel resonate in my bones. A power-filled word.
And the skies open up above us.
“It’s snow!” Bern cries out, spinning in a circle like a child. “She made it snow!”
“With the second key,” Artemisen intones, “I’m now strong enough to return this much to Altarra. The winter snows will bring spring waters to sustain the crops.”
We stare into the sky, letting the snowflakes drop icy kisses on our skin. The flurries eddy faster and faster until we stand in a tempest of white.
“Solitude,” the goddess continues, “because you obtained the key through unwarranted action, you may not keep it.”
I gasp as the key dissolves before my eyes. Anguish shreds my resolve. “That’s it? The quest fails?”
“No, my amulet bearer. There is yet a final chance to free me. One key held in reserve against catastrophe.”
“Where?” Kaelen demands.
“Fitting that you should ask, princeling. For your keep holds the final key.” When Artemisen looks back to me, the intensity of her gaze is already beginning to fade.
“You have not failed me or this quest. Indeed, I find hope in your discovery of your own strength. But do not disappoint me again, or all may well be lost.”
Before I can think of how to answer her—how to thank her—her image starts to dissolve.
“On to Valourian, my amulet bearer. And look to the thief’s wisdom. All will be made clear.”
“My lady.” I drop to one knee. “Thank you.”
“Success may yet be yours,” she says kindly. “Be strong, Solitude Grace. You will need every ounce of your newfound strength, but I have faith in you.”
As she vanishes, realization strikes:
I have faith in me, too.