Chapter 29
Orra followed the path around the lower bailey until she reached the weakest part of the wall, where the winex worked alongside the soldiers.
Sixteen days into their cycle, they were at their prime—able to lift twice as much as the soldiers.
But several of them grumbled and dragged their feet as they laid stones and mortar to strengthen the ramparts.
They took their cue from Felk, who hadn’t quite settled in with the people this time around.
Perhaps it was because he’d only had one day with Aeliana before she’d set sail.
“Day eleven and no sign of Mayvus,” General Nels said as he came up behind her.
She kept her tone even as she turned. “I already told you she went back to Ahmranas five days ago.”
“And yet our soldiers lost sleep pulling extra guard duty the last few days on the off chance you were wrong and she still came, arriving early by boat.”
She turned back to the winex. “That decision was not suggested by me.”
“It’s awfully convenient that she went back so fast.”
“You don’t have to be coy about it. You think I’m covering my tracks because I was wrong. But I’m telling you the truth.”
“And you know this because the braid on your wrist hums.” His words held a disbelief so thick it bordered on disrespect.
“I won’t pretend to understand the way you direct your men, so I don’t expect you to understand the way my magic works.” She stepped forward and called out to the winex. “I have your fish laid out in the kitchen.”
Several of the soldiers turned and made faces, but the winex all loped toward her, weaving around her with tongues lolling in their eagerness, nearly knocking General Nels over in their zeal. Orra hid a smile as he cursed and dodged out of their way.
She’d started feeding the winex separately from the soldiers because the men couldn’t stomach watching the winex eat, especially now that there were so many of them. As she followed them in and served up their plates, some of the creatures thanked her, but most merely grunted.
She wasn’t sure if it was the particular labor the soldiers had asked them to do this cycle, or if Emeris hadn’t shown them enough memories of their past cycles, but she suspected some of the winex were unhappy enough to leave before Aeliana and the others returned.
She settled in a chair next to Felk, folding her hands under her chin as she studied him.
“What?” Fish and spittle flew from his mouth with the question.
Orra ignored his poor manners. “Immortality is a difficult thing. It sounds enviable. But it comes with burdens others don’t feel.”
His brow furrowed, and juice from the fish dripped down his chin back into the bowl. The tear mark on his cheek that made him stand out from all the others felt poignantly symbolic of the weight he carried with his constant rebirth.
“Why are you telling me that?” Felk asked.
“I imagine having infinite lives and no memories would come with similar burdens that others couldn’t understand.”
He slowly spooned a fish head into his mouth while holding her gaze, and Orra tried not to grimace at the way his dozens of teeth mutilated the flesh. “Maybe,” he said around the mouthful.
Even though they were full-grown and past their middle age, he still had a sullenness that normally only appeared in the first third of his cycle, when his attitude was that of an adolescent.
“Maybe forgetting my past lives is a gift that keeps getting taken when you people give me memories.” A flicker of hatred that shocked Orra crossed his face.
Perhaps they’d pushed their luck in having the winex stay with them for so long. Or perhaps the Sun had never intended for them to relate in this way.
She knew he’d questioned the need for sharing memories, but she hadn’t realized it might have felt intrusive to a fresh start. “I suppose when Emeris and Gaeren gave you memories, it gave you the burdens of immortality instead of infinite lives,” she mused.
“We know how to start over each month. How to nest and prepare. When you make us do something else, it feels wrong, even if you say you’ll help us transition.”
She nodded, understanding far more than he probably realized. “And yet we haven’t helped you as much this cycle. You feel like slaves.”
His gaze darted around the room as if afraid they might be overheard. Perhaps it was something the winex had discussed. Or perhaps he feared there would be some sort of retaliation for his rebellious words.
“The gates are currently open,” she said. “No one will prevent you from leaving if you so choose. But know that in a future cycle, you will be prevented from returning. We have survival instincts as well.”
He nodded slowly, and it looked like he might say more, but a hum started in Orra’s braid, and she lost all awareness of her surroundings.
She closed her eyes, wrapping her fingers around the braid to absorb the life flowing through it.
She longed to reach out the way she had with the arrow, to let her soul leave her body and follow the thread connecting the braid to the stone.
But her power remained limited. Following the stone could drain her completely.
“Miss Orra?” Felk mumbled. “You all right?”
Her eyes fluttered open, the sounds of a dozen winex smacking and slurping their fish soup bringing her back to her present reality. “She’s come back again,” she whispered.
Emeris glared at General Nels, whose face remained stubbornly skeptical.
“You said this almost two weeks ago.” General Nels and two other generals sat across from Orra and Emeris in the quarters they’d deemed the war room.
Outside of chairs, desks, and maps, the room was bare and scrubbed thoroughly clean since it had been one of the rooms overtaken by winex in the fight against Mayvus’ Zealots.
“As I said,” Orra repeated, barely holding on to her patience, “she left seventeen days ago, then returned eleven days ago, then left five days ago, and now she’s returned again.”
“We would be fools not to listen to her,” Emeris said. “If Mayvus is going back and forth, she’s rebuilding her army.”
General Nels sighed and glanced at the other generals. One shifted in his chair, glancing out the window as if Mayvus might somehow fly through the glass at any moment, but the other remained stoic and unreadable.
“I will continue to keep our normal guard up, but I will also inform the men of your… update,” he conceded. “But I can’t put out any extras. I can’t make the men labor all day and stay on guard all night.”
“Perhaps instead of waiting for her to come,” Orra suggested, “we should go look for her. I told you the stone drops her off at Ahmranan’s Viewpoint.”
“It would take a week or more for me to send scouts,” General Nels pointed out. “Isn’t it likely she’ll leave again before they get there?”
She shrugged off his irritation. “She might be gone, but whatever army she’s building will have to wait for her return.”
General Nels’ lips thinned into a grim line. “We can see how big of an army she’s bringing back.”
Orra nodded, a headache forming between her eyes.
“I have no idea how many she can bring at a time. But at some point, she’ll stop finding recruits to bring back, and she’ll start marching south.
If we can see where her numbers are at now, it will give us an idea of how likely we are to maintain a defense with our soldiers. ”
The three men exchanged glances, and General Nels stood. “Thank you for the update.”
Orra adopted a serene smile, ignoring the way he struggled to acknowledge the full value of the information she’d brought.
“We’ll keep you posted on what our scouts find.”
“Should we send Gullet after Riveran with a note?” Emeris asked, brow pinched.
The men all frowned in hesitation, but General Nels eventually shook his head. “Let’s see what the scouts have to say first.”
“I wish there were a way to let my husband know,” Emeris said.
General Nels and Orra exchanged a glance, only this time it was a shared concern.
“Rildan is in the fortress,” Orra said gently. “We can go see him now and let him know.”
Emeris’ gaze clouded over. “That’s right. So much has changed…”
As her words faded, the generals left with respectful bows and purposeful steps, but the uneasy sensation lingered in the room.
“I found more of Mayvus’ research,” Emeris added, and Orra couldn’t help noting the other woman waited to share this after the generals had left. For all their loyalty as Recreant soldiers, she seemed to trust them even less than Orra did.
“What else was she up to?”
Emeris sighed. “It seems she wasn’t content with just the stone either.”
Orra went still, her hands itching to hold the arrow once more, her heart regretting her decision to let Gaeren leave with it in his possession. “Did she have any of the others?”
“I’m not sure, but she seemed to know the silver fish was in Andel. She may have already gotten it.”
“Making our mission failed before it had even begun,” Orra mused. “She always seems to be five steps ahead.”
Emeris nodded. “She also believed combining the starbridges would give her immortality.”
Orra flinched. “How so?”
“She didn’t say. But it not only confirms Aeliana and Sylmar’s theory that immortality has been her ultimate goal—it proves she had multiple methods in the works.”
An uneasiness settled over Orra. Did Mayvus know what would happen when the starbridges were united?
The Sun’s prophecy had told Orra she’d receive help combining them, but it hadn’t said anything about the half-light’s motivation.
What if it wasn’t Aeliana or Gaeren who was meant to help her?
What if it was Mayvus, except she had far darker purposes in mind?
“I’m grateful Aeliana won’t be here when she comes,” Emeris said.
Orra pulled herself from her thoughts, from the temptation to reach for Mayvus’ future. It wouldn’t show her what she wanted. Magic didn’t work on Stars, not even their own magic, which meant Orra could never see anything perfectly if she was involved. It would be a waste.
Instead, she tried focusing on the half-light here with her, in the present. “What did you say?”
“I think we got a bit lucky last time,” Emeris said. “I don’t want Aeliana to be here when Mayvus returns.” She studied her hands, letting them twist together in her lap.
“Hmm.” Orra sensed something deeper behind the other woman’s words. “But aren’t there things you didn’t have a chance to tell her?”
The high priestess’ gaze shot to Orra’s. “The timing wasn’t right. The Sun hadn’t sanctioned it.”
Orra nodded slowly. “And now you’re worried you won’t have any time at all.”
Emeris bit her lip and looked away.
“If your fears should come to pass, do you wish for me to tell her your secret?” Orra understood the weight of such a layered secret. How the knowledge could both free and completely undo someone.
“If the timing is right.” Emeris’ brow still furrowed.
“Only if the Sun wills it,” Orra promised. “Or not at all.”
The other woman’s features finally relaxed, and she reached over to squeeze Orra’s hand. “Thank you.”
A faint glow hovered in the room, likely not noticeable to Emeris’ half-light eyes, but Orra held her breath, basking in its presence.
It reminded her of her days communing with worshipers in the Sungazers, guiding them to follow the Sun, helping them through problems large and small in a simple conversation, just like she’d done with Emeris now.
She blinked back tears, longing for what had once been but knowing it was beyond her reach. She squeezed Emeris’ hand back. “Thank you,” she whispered.