Chapter 18
Kaia
The village hall is warm and smells like bread and woodsmoke.
It’s strange how normal it feels. How safe. Like we’re not sitting in the middle of a corrupted realm with monsters pressing against the wards. Like this is just… dinner.
Bob stations himself by the door, posture rigid, while Finnick lounges along a ceiling beam pretending this is all normal. Patricia hovers near my shoulder, notebook at the ready like she’s expecting minutes to be taken.
I take my seat at the long table, and the others settle around me. Torric on my left, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. Aspen across from me, calm and watchful. Malrik at the far end, eyes already tracking the room.
Finn beside him, present but quiet.
Too quiet.
Finnick, for once, is still — hands tucked behind his head, gaze fixed on Finn instead of me.
That’s… not good.
Kieran stands near the head of the table, speaking in low tones with an older woman I haven’t met yet.
She’s tall, silver-haired, with the kind of face that’s seen too much and decided to keep going anyway. When she turns to look at me, her eyes are sharp but warm.
She reminds me of my mother… I think.
Kieran starts to introduce us, but I stand before he can.
“Thank you for taking us in,” I say. “For the healing. For the safety. I know it wasn’t easy, and I know we’ve brought trouble to your door.”
The woman at the head of the table studies me for a long moment.
“Elda,” she says. “I lead what’s left of this village.”
“Kaia.”
“I know who you are.” She doesn’t look away. “I’ve heard stories of the last Valkyrie. I’ll admit — I didn’t have high hopes.”
My heart kicks, trying to figure out what she means.
“I was wrong.” Her smile is slow, genuine. “Your shadows love you like you’re one of them. And you stopped to feed the curiosity and wonder of a little boy. You have a good heart, Kaia.” She gestures to the table. “Absentia is lucky to have you.”
I don’t know what to do with that.
So I sit.
I catch Kieran watching me from across the table. There’s something in his expression that looks suspiciously like pride.
Dammit.
I look away before I can think too hard about it.
The door opens behind us.
Bob tightens by my chair, edges sharpening. Mouse flicks his tail once under the table, a low warning only I feel.
Darian slips in, slightly out of breath, like he ran here. He’s trying to keep his expression neutral, but there’s something at the corner of his mouth. A smirk he can’t quite kill.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says.
Bob relaxes. Barely.
Darian takes the empty seat at the end of the table — furthest from me, still giving me space — and I catch myself staring.
What the hell is he so pleased about?
He catches me looking. The smirk gets worse.
Then schools his features like a child about to get caught.
I glance at Malrik. He’s watching the exchange with that quiet, knowing look he gets when he’s three steps ahead of everyone else.
His eyes flick to mine. One eyebrow lifts, barely perceptible.
I look away.
What the hell is going on?
Elda waits for the table to settle before speaking.
“I have information you need before you leave,” she says. “Two nights before you arrived, a caravan passed through the village. Traders heading east.”
She pauses.
“They reported seeing a young woman with purple hair — with someone hooded beside her. They didn’t look like willing companions. Moving fast. Heading toward the mountain.”
My heart stops.
Seren.
For half a second the hall blurs — firelight, faces, noise — and all I can see is a kid with purple hair and too-big boots trailing in my shadow.
Patricia appears at my elbow, notebook blazing, then blurs like the ink can’t keep up. Mouse presses against my boot.
“Sorrow’s Keep,” Kieran says quietly.
Elda nods. “That’s what they call it. The mountain at the heart of the corruption. They say it holds the gateway to the gods.” She shrugs slightly. “Whether that’s true or superstition, I couldn’t say.”
Darian shifts in his seat. “It’s not easy to reach. The terrain around it is… wrong. Twisted. Alekir talked about it constantly, but I never saw it myself.”
“There’s more,” Revna says from the doorway. I didn’t even notice her arrive. “A separate witness spotted someone else heading the same direction. Hours apart from the caravan.”
She steps into the room, her expression grim.
“Callum.”
The name lands like a stone in still water.
Carl peels out from beneath the table, halfway through a salute before Bob yanks him back, edges sharp with don’t you dare.
Torric’s rune flares briefly, heat rolling off him before he clamps it down. Aspen goes very still. Kieran’s jaw tightens, controlled and focused.
Finn stiffens beside Malrik, something flickering across his face — grief, guilt, fear — before he shoves it down and goes blank.
Darian tenses.
I notice. So does Malrik.
“You know him?” Malrik asks, voice carefully neutral.
Darian hesitates. “I’ve heard the name. Thorne mentioned him once. Maybe Alekir too. I don’t know the details.”
Malrik nods slowly, filing that away.
“They weren’t traveling together,” Revna continues. “The sightings were hours apart. But they’re both heading toward the Keep.”
Silence settles over the table.
I take a breath.
“We leave at dawn.”
Bob snaps into a crisp salute. Behind him the new recruits scramble to copy it, half a step late and wildly uneven. Linda nods approvingly.
Are there more than before?
No one argues. No one hesitates.
Elda nods, unsurprised. “Dawn is ideal. The winds die down just before sunrise — you’ll have a window to cross the eastern boundary without fighting the corruption.”
She looks around the table, assigning tasks like she’s done this a hundred times.
“Torric, I’ll need you to reinforce the fire wards at the southern gate before you go. Aspen, Revna — check the outer markers one last time. Malrik, come find me after dinner. We’ll go over the route together.”
Her gaze lands on Finn, and something in her expression softens.
“And you,” she says gently. “Eat. Rest. You’ll need your strength.”
Finn’s jaw tightens, but he nods.
The meeting winds down. People start to move, conversations breaking into smaller groups.
Elda catches my eye before I can stand.
“You’re ready, more than you realize,” she says quietly. “You’re not running anymore.”
I meet her gaze. “No. I’m not.”
She smiles — warm, approving. “Good. The village stands with you. Whatever waits at Sorrow’s Keep, we’re behind you.”
“Thank you,” I say. And I mean it.
Later, as we file out into the cool night air, I let myself feel it.
The steadiness. The certainty.
I’m not running from fear. I’m not acting recklessly. I’m here, with the men I lo… nope. I have people behind me are following because they choose to.
And it’s terrifying.
Kieran falls into step beside me, Torric’s warmth at my back.
Aspen’s calm, Finn’s uncharacteristically quiet, but he’s here. That’s what matters.
And Malrik is already planning.
Darian catches my eye one more time. The smirk is gone, replaced by something softer. Something like hope.
Bob settles at my side, Mouse at my heel, Steve dangling upside down from the rafters like this is all just a show. They’re… Ready.
We leave at dawn.
Sorrow’s Keep is waiting.
And Seren is close.