Chapter 18 #2
‘The wind is more like an echo. A whisper that watches over me. It has since I was a child. But I can’t call it. I certainly can’t control it. I couldn’t even blow out the candle.’
She glanced back at him, his pale eyes and scarred face. He was staring at her, so she slid her gaze to the warfront instead.
‘Though it’s different than most, the connection to the wind comes from Avane,’ Arawn said. ‘Perhaps … yours just manifests in a different way.’
‘Without invocating?’ Ezer asked.
‘There … have been rare instances. A very rare few.’
He frowned for a moment, like he was considering something.
Her heart raced a bit faster until he leaned in, his voice full of wonder. ‘Just imagine what it would be like if you could.’
‘That’s the problem,’ Ezer said. ‘The gods don’t answer my prayers. They never have.’
He raised a brow. ‘Haven’t they?’
She blinked at him.
‘You survived a shadow wolf attack. You’re protected by the wind if what you say is true, and of everyone in Lordach, you have been chosen to tame a raphon.
’ He smiled sadly. ‘Take it from me, Minder. Spend too much time doubting the care of the gods, and eventually … they might take away their gift.’
He looked down at his hands. She did not forget the way he’d reacted days ago, when someone spoke a name aloud to him. Soraya.
‘Will it ever come back?’ she asked him.
He shrugged. ‘If that is their will. Months ago, I couldn’t even conjure a flame.’ His gaze slid to the wall of windows. ‘I suppose some progress is better than none.’
‘What happened to cause it?’ Ezer dared ask.
What did you do?
He tensed. She’d pressed too hard, and she could sense that his walls were back up. ‘It’s getting late.’
‘You’re right,’ Ezer said. She was about to bid him goodnight when she realized he was walking away from the exit doors … to a small rack of wooden training swords in the corner of the room that she hadn’t paid any mind to before.
Her heart sank.
‘No,’ Ezer said. ‘Absolutely not.’
He tossed a wooden training sword at her feet.
With a groan, she knelt to scoop up the sword and held it back out to him. ‘I am not a soldier.’
‘Not yet,’ Arawn said with a shrug of his enormous shoulders. ‘But by the time I’m done with you … you will be.’
Morning came, and Ezer woke as stiff as a corpse. Every muscle in her body felt like she’d been run over by a prison wagon.
‘I can’t,’ she groaned as Izill paused at her bedside, clucking at her to get up before she was late. ‘I can’t do today.’
‘Dear gods, what did he do to you?’
‘Physical fitness.’ Ezer yelped as she rose on throbbing legs. Even lifting her arms to rub the sleep from her eyes was hell. She hissed between her teeth.
For two hours, Arawn had made her train, barking out commands like a true soldier. She’d hefted the wooden sword, failing at blocking his advances. And then he’d moved on to hand-to-hand combat.
He’d finally finished the entire lesson with pushups and squats.
She was so tired she’d fallen into her bed last night without taking her boots off.
But sleep had been hard to come by, because for some reason, the second she closed her eyes …
She saw the way he’d looked with sweat beading on his brow.
She remembered every line of his body, all the hard angles and wiry muscles beneath his skin. And how it had felt when his hands had lingered on her hips, ever so gently showing her how to perfect her stance.
How she’d found it hard to breathe … and it had nothing to do with how exhausted she was.
She needed to get herself away from the Crown Prince, before it caused her another bout of trouble she didn’t want.
She was nothing to him.
And he was nothing to her.
‘Why would anyone choose to put themselves through that hell?’ Ezer asked now.
Izill frowned and helped her towards the fireside. ‘To survive. Which Arawn is going to have a hard time doing, prince or not, when I’m done with him.’
Despite the pain in her ribs, Ezer laughed.
The Aviary was almost empty when she arrived, drenched in sweat despite the cold.
It had taken her three times as long as it normally did to make the ascent, every step like a knife to her thighs.
I hope you’re true to your word, Izill, Ezer thought darkly as she ripped open the Aviary doors and entered. I hope you make Arawn pay.
She groaned when she stepped inside … because Zey was already there.
Today, the Eagleminder looked tired as she gathered a saddle from one of the racks on the walls. Her blonde hair was falling out of its braid, the strands greasy as they hung over her face. She reached up to tuck them behind her ears.
And Ezer’s stomach sank as she noticed the mark on Zey’s hand.
Her other hand. Like she’d paid penance yet again.
She had a small youngling with her and was busy piling the heavy things into the child’s scrawny arms. Ezer waited until the boy was gone before she approached.
‘Zey.’
‘Ah, if it isn’t Wolf Bait,’ said the Eagleminder. ‘Still standing? I’m surprised the raphon hasn’t killed you yet.’
Even her devilish smirk was off kilter.
She smelled like liquor again as she tried to step past Ezer.
‘I could say the same about you,’ Ezer said. She looked at Zey’s hand. ‘You were punished again. Why?’
Zey glared at her. ‘Get out of my way.’
‘No,’ Ezer said. She glanced over her shoulder, but nobody else was around. ‘This isn’t right.’
‘And what would you know about right?’ Zey asked. ‘There are laws. Sometimes we break them.’
‘And so they break you in return?’ Ezer asked.
The Sacred were supposed to be pious, pure, but if they broke a law …
Physical penance was not something she’d ever seen in the writings of the gods, nor whispered about in the south. Nobody knew the truth about this.
It was wrong.
Zey’s youngling came back around the corner, but a glare from Zey, and he suddenly seemed to remember he had elsewhere to be.
‘We don’t speak about it,’ Zey hissed. ‘We do as we are told, and if we mess up, we pay penance. Our blood pays the price for our sins against the Five. It is our way.’
‘But it’s not right,’ Ezer said.
Zey’s eyes hardened. ‘And why should I care about the opinion of an Unconsecrated?’
Ezer crossed her arms. ‘Because nobody deserves to be treated like …’ She looked down at her ankles and remembered the way her chains used to weigh heavy upon her. ‘Like a prisoner.’
‘I can leave any time I like,’ Zey said.
‘And risk getting kicked out of the Ehver, spending an eternity in darkness because of it?’ Ezer asked. ‘That’s what the punishment is for laying down your vows. Isn’t it?’
She didn’t want to think about her mother or father, whoever had been Sacred, ending up with that same fate.
The Eagleminder’s jaw went taut, but she glanced past Ezer’s shoulder. ‘I have a job to do. I cannot be late.’
‘What would happen if you were?’ Ezer asked.
Zey didn’t answer, so Ezer caught back up to her, reaching out.
‘Touch me, and I swear it will be the last time you use that hand,’ Zey growled.
Ezer dropped her hand. On instinct, she reached for the stone in her pocket … but decided against it.
She did not need Arawn to fight her battles for her.
She followed Zey instead, keeping pace with the Eagleminder despite the soreness in every step.
‘You hate me,’ Ezer said, ‘Because I took the job you wanted. Is that it?’
Zey flicked her blonde hair over a shoulder. ‘The Sacred do not hate, Wolf Bait.’
‘Then you strongly dislike me to the point that you’d rather me be as miserable as you,’ Ezer said. ‘Why?’
For a moment, she thought Zey might actually hit her. Surely there was a law about that. But the Eagleminder surprised her when she paused her walking and said, ‘Because you have what I cannot.’
‘I don’t have anything,’ Ezer said back, exasperated.
Not a home, nor a family.
She wasn’t even certain she had true magic, despite what Arawn said.
‘You have choices,’ Zey growled. ‘Don’t ever let anyone take them from you.
’ She was tall and beautiful and everything Ezer was not.
But she looked miserable, like the swiftly ageing Knight she’d seen marching into battle last night.
There was no life in her eyes. ‘You never should have come here. If I were you … I’d leave before it’s too late. ’
Ezer’s breathing hitched. ‘Too late for what?’
But Zey had already turned and left.