Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
My father is still stuck on (word obscured). That fucker.
— From the journal of Violet Andrever
The next morning, I had to drag myself from bed.
My body hurt. There was a scorching in my chest, like I should be bruised all over, although that could have been from the harsh teleporting.
I was also coming to learn that wielding powers through my channels was just as exhausting as the drills Kaia put me through.
It only got worse as Azar had deigned to train me again that day. It consisted of more of the same—standing in the snow, attempting to hurl fireballs at trees and bushes at ever-increasing distances. But the following day, Finn informed me over breakfast that Azar had disappeared.
And speaking of people who had disappeared—where the hell was Griff? While he had been in and out constantly during my time here, this time felt longer than usual. And I was still pissed he’d left without telling me.
Sighing, I continued with my standard routine, heading to the training yard. Kaia met me, a slight smile on her face, which I had learned was a sure sign that I was about to get my ass kicked.
“It’s time for you to use your powers in combination with your training.”
I had seen Kaia call up gale-force winds while she fought.
Seen others send targeted bursts of water.
I looked at my practice sword, considering.
And with a thought, I drew up a thread of power and directed it down the sword.
Flames licked the edges of the blade. Before I really got a handle on it, Kaia was attacking me.
Sparks flew as metal met metal, but Kaia gave no comment as we continued the fight.
When it was over, I stood there sweating, the flames still surging over the blade. I watched them as they writhed, desperate to consume something, with nowhere to go.
“The fire seems to like me.”
“To be expected. You’re angry,” she said by way of explanation. “Understandably so. Flames are a safe way to get it out. Earth requires steadfastness. Water, while changeable, requires a calm path. Air simply exists. But fire? Fire wants to claim, wants to burn. Fire needs fuel.”
“And I have the fuel right now.”
Kaia nodded once. “Then we go again.” She got back into position and we started anew.
After she had run me around the yard several times to her satisfaction, she released me. I started to move on, but she quietly said my name, her severe face softening into something almost gentle.
“He’ll be back,” she said softly, before turning away and barking at another student.
Shocked to my core that she knew the reason—or more accurately one of the reasons— for my anger, I started to clean up, when a shout rang out behind me.
“Your highness!”
I was still not used to being called that. Not sure I ever would be.
A guard, his navy uniform pressed formally, strode up to me. “The regent requests you in the council chamber.”
Shit. What had I done now?
He led me to a room I never would have found on my own, with tall windows that let in the natural light.
There were maybe a dozen individuals, all richly dressed, milling around the room, some standing in small groups, some already seated at the large oval table.
I halfway remembered meeting a few of them at various times, but for the life of me, I couldn’t recall anyone’s name.
Finn nodded in greeting but didn’t break away from his conversation.
I looked around for Griff but didn’t see him.
I gently knocked on Finn’s mind. “Where’s Griff?”
“Out dealing with the Veil.”
“How long will he be out there?”
I felt Finn’s mental shrug. “As long as it takes.”
Very helpful, Finn.
As Zachariah stormed in, everyone found their seats. I stood still for a moment, seeing how things would shake out, then moved to an empty chair. Finn gave me a slight shake of his head, and I shifted to a different one, but not before I saw Zachariah’s glare.
Figured I would have tried to take his chair. I sighed. This was off to a great start.
As he took his chair, Zachariah turned to me. “Ah, Granddaughter.” It was amazing how he could make a simple word sound demeaning. “How generous of you to grace us with your presence.”
“Always happy to be where you tell me, Grandfather.”
“We are discussing the evacuation of the border towns near the Veil, due to the continued holes appearing and hufen attacks. Do try to keep up.”
I listened in silence as they listed the various places the holes had appeared, plotting them on a map.
There was no rhyme or reason that I could discern.
And no one had any answers. Was this what every council meeting had been like since the Veil started to fail or only recently?
No plan, nothing to try, just an insane hope in the prophecy that said someone would come along who could fix it?
Shouldn’t these be the wisest individuals in the realm?
And shouldn’t they have some sort of backup plan?
The more I listened, the more I became convinced they had nothing—nothing beyond blind faith that the prophecy would provide. Which was great for them, but I was the one who was going to have to enact all those grand plans from the prophecy.
Our asshole regent began talking about the refugee camps that had been established to assist those who had left their homes. And yet for the people who weren’t willing to leave everything and pack up their lives, it sounded like he was planning to just abandon them.
“Your plan is to just leave the rest of the people out there to die?” I asked incredulously.
Every head swiveled toward me in shock. Finn winced. I must have once again broken some unwritten rule or made some etiquette faux pas, but it wasn’t my first today and definitely wouldn’t be my last. I refused to feel remorse.
Especially since it wasn’t in my nature to sit in silence and observe.
“Your highness,” started one of the council members, “perhaps you don’t fully understand—”
“Are you telling me I’m incorrect? You’re not planning on just abandoning people? Then I think I understand fully. I felt the darkness searching out there! We can’t just abandon people to that!”
“You question things you know nothing about and you interrupt those who know better than you,” Zachariah said with his usual sneer. “What would you do about it?”
“We have an army! A massive one, from what I can see. Send them in to help!”
Zachariah laughed lightly. “And tell me, Granddaughter, what happens when a soldier fights a hufen and loses?”
Several of the council members exchanged glances, and I caught a hint of a smirk on one face.
My hands clenched tightly in my lap as heat crept up my neck. I reached out to Finn in mute appeal, but his shields must have been up and I couldn’t get through. “They… they die?”
He laughed that cruel laugh again. “Only if they are lucky, my dear. If they are unlucky, they join the ranks of hufen. Every soldier we send against them who falls has the potential to be turned into another weapon to be used against us. All it takes is a single touch for the darkness to spread. Would you like to explain to the kingdom why you risked their sons and daughters and created an army of darkness?”
This was so much worse than I had thought. Only a touch to create new hufen? I looked around the table, watching as several of the council members nodded along with my grandfather’s words. Clearly this was old news to everyone else.
But Zachariah wasn’t finished. “You speak so confidently about risks you don’t understand.
You have never fought them. Never seen the army approaching on this city.
” His voice became sharper than usual. “I was there on the battlefield the last time we went head-to-head with this foe. I saw the overwhelming numbers of hufen cut down our army. I saw our soldiers fall, only to rise up again, fighting for the other side.” His voice had risen in intensity, his eyes wild with memories. He paused and took a deep breath.
He had been there? He had actually stooped low enough to bloody his hands?
When he spoke again, it was with his usual disdain. “Even your own Champion, the one best positioned to fight against the hufen, has had several near misses while dealing with the fallout from the holes.”
“Near misses?” I breathed, my breath catching in my throat. When the darkness had set upon us, he’d made it seem like if you were under cover, it couldn’t reach you. Had that just been a fluke?
“Clearly, you are not as well-informed as you believe. Tell me, in your quaint upbringing in that farming village, did you ever have to make decisions that cost lives?”
I sat in silence, unable to think of a single defense, my mind still whirling on the possibility of Griff being in danger.
“I thought not. Even more evidence to show that you are wholly unprepared to rule. If you even get that opportunity.”
I sat in stunned silence for the rest of the council meeting, lost to anything additional that was said.
I probed at Finn again, this time knocking sharply and he dropped his shields. “He’s exaggerating, right?” I asked. “As he always does?”
I expected Finn to reply with one of his usual cavalier lines, but instead, it was tinged with pity. “Not really. It is dangerous.”
How naive I had been. I’d felt that searching presence. I’d known there was an element of danger, but I’d never stopped to think that every time he went out, he was facing hufen. Plural.
How dangerous was dangerous?
Why had no one told me?
How many times had I seen him right after a trip, not knowing he had nearly died?
Why hadn’t he told me?
The conversation moved on, everyone oblivious to the doubt now festering inside me. The next issue on the table was prisoners and executions—one prisoner in particular. My blood ran cold as I realized exactly who they were talking about. Cillian Fadian. The man who’d attacked me. Except—
“He escaped?” Finn’s voice cut through the discussion.
Escaped. My heart pounded, threatening to leave my chest. What if it hadn’t been a one-off? What if he tried to kill me again? I had gotten more powerful, but was I strong enough?
A councilor shuffled his papers. “Two days ago.”
“Two days ago? And you’re just telling us now?” Finn was indignant.
Several councilors shifted uncomfortably as Zachariah turned his scornful gaze on Finn.
“What would you have done, Master of Histories, if you had known before today?” Zachariah said smoothly. “What actions would you have taken that are different from what you already did?”
My stomach churned at that casual dismissal.
Finn’s hands clenched on the table.
“Don’t do this,” I thought hastily at Finn. “You’re never going to win.”
“Griff would never let this stand.” A whole mess of emotions accompanied that thought—frustration, helplessness, and potentially something that felt like longing.
“As you said, Griff isn’t here.”
Finn’s jaw clenched and unclenched. I could feel his seething rage, but what could he say?
“Clearly you have nothing further to add,” Zachariah finished with satisfaction. “Moving on.”
But I couldn’t move on. My hands trembled at the memory of what had happened at Cillian’s hands. What could be more pressing than someone who tried to kill me now being free?
I hadn’t thought I truly hated my grandfather, but in that moment, I did. Was he really this oblivious or was there a stronger motivation in place?
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as a terrible thought solidified: What if my grandfather never intended for me to survive here at all?