Chapter 28 #2
A half-smile tugged at Phaedrus’ lips as he stole the warmth away again. The lacerations reopened, cutting deeper than before. Claws dug into my chest, smashing the light that had kept me alive.
Anguish overwhelmed me, and a sob burst from my lips. Gasping, I pressed a hand to my chest, where an unbearable pang tore my heart apart.
“Will you make Seth lose you, too?” Phaedrus asked.
“Stop.” I whimpered, crushed beneath the agony.
“You can make it stop, Aethra,” Phaedrus said softly. “For everyone. Bring their suffering to an end.”
The grief Seth carried with him lifted as Phaedrus dropped my hand. Catching my breath, I grabbed the mantle, trying to still my shaking legs.
“Why would I hurt them when I could save them?” I said. “Maybe some yearn for release, but so many more want to live. And-”
“And if you defeat the Empty, they’ll gain the life they’re owed?
” Phaedrus gazed down on me like a bird of prey.
“What in your life has shown you this world deserves to be saved? Was it the crowds who shrieked and panicked, pushing the poor tainted to their deaths? Was it the officer who consorted with the Guild to murder the lord and steal his throne? Was it the father who enjoyed the pleasures of his daughter’s flesh and threw the child into the wilderness to hide the truth? ”
I tried to respond, but he advanced, forcing me to back up. Grabbing my arms, he assaulted me again with his magic.
“Was it the parents mourning their children, taken young by disease? Or perhaps you thought the lords in their gilded castles deserve your pity? They who live in luxury, stealing every scrap from those they trod upon in the dirt below? Or maybe the clergy, in their endless hypocrisy, who use their station to escape their crimes?” He paused, eyes searching my face.
“Your assassin has the right of it. The world chooses the status quo. Why lift a finger to help the helpless when you could look away and be blissfully ignorant of their fate?”
Every horrible emotion the world had ever felt ripped through my body. Aching hunger of a starving, dying child. The panicked throb of a man watching his love die in childbirth. The quivering hands of a parent unable to afford healing for their child.
Terror. Helplessness. Grief. The world went dark as its emotions buried me. I screamed, unable to make it stop. Pain. Hollowness. Desperation. Fury.
The spell lifted. Dragging open my eyes, I found myself curled in a ball by the fire, head buried in my arms. Shaking like a leaf, I pulled myself into a sitting position and saw Phaedrus sitting on the armchair, watching me expectantly.
“It’s cruelty.” He said. “No doctor of conscience would force a wounded man to lie in misery while he succumbs to wounds medicine cannot mend. They would close his eyes, sparing him inhumane torture.”
“What. . .” I gasped. “What made you this way?”
“My first error was love.” His eyes stared into the distance, recalling old memories. “A common woman who worked the stables. Being fools, we believed we could keep our affair hidden.”
“Did your father kill her?” I asked.
“Yes. Sent her to the Empty, as is tradition. And our child?” Phaedrus swallowed. “I barely managed to get him to the Guild before the same fate befell him.”
Something spun in my stomach, and I sat back. Could it be. . ?
“My second mistake was compassion.” He said, a hint of humor in his tone. “When my father died an untimely death, I rejoiced. With his mantle and power, I believed I could change my city for the better.” He chuckled bitterly. “You’re clever. I needn’t tell you why I failed.”
No lord would give up a cent of their treasury to feed the hungry. No lord would give away a mile of land to house the homeless. Any law Phaedrus tried to pass was doubtless thwarted by every noble who called Cynthus home.
And Seth was right. It was easier to ignore the brothel recruiting children than lose the money it generated. Easier to excuse the man beating his wife than start a fight. Easier to take the gold the lord offered, and seal your lips.
“Nothing will ever change,” Phaedrus said. “What little good blooms in this world is suffocated by the darkness. Just as the very land withers beneath the Empty. There are no gods. No pleasant afterlife. This world is a meaningless farce. Let it fall into nothing.”
Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I staggered to my feet. “You don’t care that Seraphim might get me killed. You just don’t want us to succeed.”
“On the contrary,” He picked up his drink, swirling the amber liquor. “Duath Nun knows about your magic. And those with it suffer a horrible fate. But Seraphim has grown fond of them. She intends to save those who would condemn you.”
“And you won’t?”
“I would see you to the shallow wound and tear it wide open.” He said, spreading his arms. “And we, too, would know peace.”
I dug my fingers into my skirt, studying the man before me. His eyes looked nothing like Eleos’ though they shared a hue. Phaedrus’ irises reflected no light. Empty. Hopeless.
“Eleos is your son.” I blurted out.
“I believe so,” Phaedrus confirmed. “The Guild did its job well. I never caught wind of him again. But he looks so much like his mother. . .” He looked away. “I’m not surprised the world has ruined him, as well.”
My guess had been right, back in Serifos. Sage-green eyes. . .
“One thing’s still bothering me,” I said. “If Ainwir was your teacher, why did he leave to become a con man?”
“Twelve years ago, Seraphim sent back word of Duath Nun’s knowledge of your magic.” He stood, trailing a hand across the mantle. “I sent Ainwir to find the girl who possessed it.”
“Why did he train me? Why didn’t he bring me back to you?”
“For seven long years, I didn’t know the answer to that.
” Phaedrus’s hand slid off the marble, and he stared at the speck of dust clinging to his fingers.
“Even with the Guild’s aid, I couldn’t pin the bastard down.
When I finally captured him, Ainwir said,” he turned to look at me.
“He couldn’t stand the idea of letting me use you. ”
“Captured. . .” My mind blurred. “But he took a loan out from-”
“From Laverna?” Phaedrus laughed. “You’re clever.
Surely you know there was never any loan.
He paid Laverna handsomely to hide you. The debt?
Just a means to ensure you stayed near her, so she might protect you from me.
” He looked at his fingernails, nose wrinkled. “And it worked. For five more years.”
I backed into the table, knocking my glass over. “But. . . but he worked for your family. Found you for me. Why did he change his mind?”
Phaedrus watched the spilled drink trickle off the table. “Because he took your tiny, malnourished hand in his. Nothing more. He brought you all the way to Cynthus’ border, telling himself it was just another job.” His eyes flicked up. “But he turned back at my doorstep.”
Releasing the table, I staggered forward as memories rushed back to me. Ainwir had smuggled us out of Cynthus in a corpse cart. That foggy remembrance had been the day he betrayed his master and saved my life.
“Small wonder he took you on as an apprentice.” Phaedrus continued. “Anyone who could melt Ainwir’s cold heart had a promising future as a con man.”
I should have felt something. Grief. Sorrow. Maybe I couldn’t anymore.
I’d lived a thousand lifetimes during Phaedrus’ assault, and in each suffered unimaginable horrors under the gods’ uncaring gaze.
Raising my head, I remembered the last piece of the puzzle. “I still don’t understand. Why do you call me Elpis?”
“That is what the people of Duath Nun call your kind,” Phaedrus reached for the fire, as though intending to grasp it. “Its translation feels far more appropriate, than merely attributing you to the Maiden.”
“But you say it like a name. A title.”
“Because it is.” Phaedrus paused. “The manor is yours.” He gestured to the door. “Your magic is potent, but quite useless in a fight. I wouldn’t press your luck with the guards.”
“I don’t intend to try,” I said blankly, walking to the door and pausing in its threshold. “Thank you,” I said stiffly. “For telling me the truth.”
He nodded, sharp gaze following me down the hall. I returned to my room and shut the door behind me.
For a while, I stood there, emotionless, still as a statue, silently reflecting on everything I’d learned. The fog lifted from my brain, and the gears started spinning all at once.
Five long years had passed since Phaedrus found Ainwir. Time enough for my master to have sailed to Duath Nun and started a family. But I knew he hadn’t.
The Guild had a saying. When someone vanishes, look instead for their corpse.
I fell to my knees, broken. Ainwir hadn’t found me by chance. Hadn’t betrayed me.
My eyes burned and tears flowed down my cheeks, one by one, until the dam burst and a racking sob burst from my chest. For I knew the truth Phaedrus had not voiced.
Ainwir had loved me.
And he was long dead.