Chapter 4
Once, I was known as Adelynne. Countess of Light. Mother of two children. Once, I was Fae. Once, I was powerless. Then, I killed a god and took his place. Now and forever more, I am Adelyth, the Goddess of Hope and bearer of the Godhood of Dreams. I shall never be powerless again.
~Edicts of Adelyth
Fiona
I go directly to my father’s laboratory when I get to Stormhaven.
He alone knows how to brew every Infusion, and he alone knows how to create the special ink that is used for our Marks, so he spends a lot of time in his laboratory.
Secrets keep the Order of the Priests safe, and Rhaskar Thorne’s ability to limit information to new Priests is one of the reasons no one has infiltrated the Order in almost eighty years.
He’s exactly where I expect to find him. Standing in a gold-embroidered black silk tunic over his alchemy table, he’s slowly stirring a gallon-sized pot with a glowing blue liquid in it. Enough Infusion of the Eagle for close to five hundred doses.
Unlike the rest of the Priests, my father doesn’t hide that he’s part of the Order.
He doesn’t wear a cloak unless we’re on a mission, something we do rarely these days.
“You’re alive,” he says without a single emotion in his voice.
“Why did you go to Averna without so much as a note?” He doesn’t even turn around.
I pull the ermine fur pouch from my cloak and set it on the table next to him. “I robbed Azric Cyrus of a god-touched item.”
At that, he turns to me. “What god?”
“Caeldra, I believe. It sounds like a tinkling bell. Have we ever had access to any objects touched by Caeldra?”
He sighs, his mind turning to the past for a moment.
“One, long before you were born.” I look into his eyes, the eyes I’ve known for nearly my entire life.
He cares about me. I know he does, even though he never says as much.
The Mark of the Serpent that climbs from his collarbone up his right cheek is what most people focus on, but I’ve known that Mark forever.
He’s the only Priest who wears the Twelfth Mark, the one that grants immunity to death.
Instead of looking at it, I notice the dark circles under his eyes, the way they look heavy, as though he hasn’t been sleeping.
He’s been worried about me. I’ve been gone for almost two months.
The man I’ve looked up to my entire life, whom I’ve trusted beyond what a normal child would trust their parent, is everything to me.
He saved me from the gutter when my parents were killed.
He gave my life purpose and trained me to survive in a world where humans are food for the gods and their creatures.
The only thing I’ve ever wanted is his approval, and he knows it. My punishments have only ever been disappointed looks or words, while my rewards were smiles and praise. “How did you steal this?” he asks.
“I climbed up the side of the Crimson Tower while he was away fighting Draeven’s troops.”
He glances down at the pouch and then back at me, his mind going through my story. “Who caught you? If you hadn’t been caught, you’d have far more than this one pouch.”
I bite my lip. “Azric,” I say softly.
Still, my father doesn’t show any emotion. “Then how are you alive?”
“I jumped out of a window, and when he flew down to catch me, I used the Mark of the Cloak and hid. I didn’t see him again.”
My father nods and picks up the pouch, not surprised by the story.
“This is one of his birthing gifts,” he says as he opens it.
“When he was presented to the gods, each of them gave him a gift, each as powerful as Mournfang, his blade. I do not have a record of what each of them was or what they could do, but I know that these are more valuable whole than anything I’d do with them.
We must discover their purpose, but for now, we’ll keep them hidden in my vault. ”
He turns back to the Infusion that’s bubbling more than it should be. “Why did you do this without telling me, Fiona? If you’d set your mind to going on a mission to collect relics, why do it in secret? Why make me worry?”
With a deep breath, I prepare myself to do the one thing that I’ve never done before: argue with my father.
“I have earned a place in the Order, Father. I took those on my own. I made the plan, I executed it, I faced down The Prince of Bones, and I escaped alive with one of the most powerful weapons in Nyth. How many other Priests could do that? This proves without a doubt that I deserve a place within the Order.”
He’s quiet for a few moments as he stirs the liquid. “Fiona, please recite the edicts the Order was founded on.”
I knew this was coming. “The first edict is ‘The Order is the wall against the storm. Every Priest pledges his loyalty to the Order above anything else, including his family, his fortune, and his own life.’ The second is ‘A woman’s love destroyed this world, and we shall not allow a woman’s love to ruin what is left.
Only men may become part of the Order.’ The third is ‘Humanity is the most valuable thing in Nyth. The Order of the Priests shall do anything required to protect it.’ The fourth is ‘Only humans can protect humanity from magic. Only humans may become part of the Order.’ The fifth is ‘Only members of the Order will be allowed to know its secrets. Betraying the Order is betraying all of humanity.’”
“Don’t you see why you cannot be inducted into the Order of the Priests, Fiona?
We’ve had this conversation too many times to count.
You’ve been given the training. You have access to Infusions and have been given the Marks you’ve earned.
I’ve done everything I can, even breaking my own rules by giving you these things, but I cannot allow a woman into the Order, to be given the opportunity to make decisions that could end humanity. ”
I snarl at him. “Father, I am not Maeve Arden. I was willing to die to keep our secrets out of Azric’s hands. When I jumped out of that window, I didn’t think I would survive the fall. It’s only because his shadows were out when he tried to catch me that I had a way out.”
My father turns off the burner under the Infusion and throws the metal spoon onto the wooden table before turning toward me, anger blazing in his eyes.
“It wasn’t to save herself that Maeve Arden destroyed the world.
It was to save the man she loved. I know you aren’t afraid of death, but you’re young. ”
The anger in his expression fades some. “You will know love eventually, and what will happen if the choice between the one you love and the Order is placed before you? What will you do then?”
“My loyalty is to the Order. Always.” I put my hand on his.
He sighs, all signs of anger washing away.
“Then follow its edicts, Fiona. I will not keep you from anything other than the power to ruin it. I will give you the Marks you earn. I will give you access to Infusions and training and protection. I will let you fight beside us or travel the lands as one of us.”
It’s not what I want, and he knows it. “I was going to ask you to appoint me to a position on the border. I wanted to protect Sylvantia like all the other Priests who have earned their second and third Marks. How can I do that if I’m not allowed into the Order?
The Marks and Infusions are powerful, but what about experience, Father?
Where am I to find that? Who’s to give that to me? ”
His eyes go over my body, taking me in as if he were looking at a new Priest who’d just earned his Phoenix.
I know he’s judging me as he does so often.
He sees the hard muscles covering my body, my short, cropped hair meant for battle rather than appearance.
My body has been built to become a Priest rather than a lady, a warrior rather than a damsel, but that doesn’t matter to him.
No matter what I do, I will forever be the gender that ruined the world.
A part of him wants to give me what I ask for. He knows what I could do if I were a part of the Order. I know it too, deep in my soul. One day, I would stand beside him as an equal. I, too, would bear the Mark of the Serpent, and we’d be the wall against the storm together.
The other part, the side that’s made all the hard decisions over the years, denies me.
He shakes his head. “I’d never have allowed you to go to the border, even if you convinced me to induct you into the Order.
You matter too much to be put into a position half the Priests don’t survive.
You’re far too valuable to be fodder for demons. ”
I take a step back. “Because I’m your daughter?
” My fist clenches in response to the thought.
He’s been harder on me than anyone else.
Bram Mercer may have trained me to fight since I was old enough to hold a dagger, but it was my father who taught me the harder lessons.
What it was like to feel your bones shatter.
What it was like to starve, to go without air until your body would do anything for it, to be put into perfect darkness for days until my mind wasn’t sure what was real and what was an illusion.
“You are the most valuable person in the world to me, Fiona. I would do a great many things to keep you safe, and it’s not only because you’re my daughter.”
“You just…” The door slams open, and I whirl around, my hands going to my daggers. My father, on the other hand, simply arches an eyebrow.
At the door stands Countess Ainslee Emlyn, the Champion of Adelyth, the Goddess of Hope. She and her people, the Fae and humans in Selithar, have spent the last eighty years fighting to save innocents. She may help humans rather than harm them, but she’s still Godforged, still Fae. Still not human.
My hackles still rise, and my hands still grip my daggers, though I don’t pull them from their sheaths. “We need to talk, Rhaskar,” she says. “And we need to do it immediately.”