Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
“You'll rise at sunset to train,” Prima ordered both of us, tone ringing of pure authority I hadn’t heard yet but now seemed to always be underlying every word she spoke. “We'll move after breakfast and reach Archí by sunset.”
“My friends—” I started, stepping forward.
“Will be well taken care of and will have the opportunity to learn the skills that suit them,” Prima told me. “Archí is a free society, Adrian. I know you have no semblance of what that truly means, but I take pride in it as my only true and lasting accomplishment in this world.”
With that, Prima threw aside the canvas flap and vanished into the night beyond. Silence settled over the tent once she was gone. I turned slowly to Gryfon who was now glowering at my side.
“So—” I started.
“Meet at the rock at sunrise,” he growled in clear dismissal. “Don’t be late.”
***
I wasn’t.
The next morning, I rose before the sun and made it to the rock before it completed its ascent into the sky. I waited there, sitting on the stone and reaching for the dark as always. And just like all the times before, it was as elusive and impossible to find as ever.
“You expect to grasp true power by sitting still on a rock?” an irritable drawl sounded from behind me.
I sighed. If my eyes weren’t closed I would have rolled them as I clenched my jaw and prepared to face my unwilling instructor.
“Should I be jumping around and losing my concentration instead?” I asked in return, arching a brow as I opened my eyes to meet his gaze.
Gryfon stood a few paces away from me on the sand beneath the rock. His enormous height had him nearly looking me in the eyes even from the ground. The sun shone in his silver hair, illuminating his golden skin and deep blue eyes in a way I hadn’t taken the time to notice before.
I grumbled at the unfairness of it all, certain that after all the time spent in the gritty sand and unnatural heat of the desert I more closely resembled the mangy desert mice than a person.
Meanwhile, Gryfon still shone like a god walking amongst men.
Despite his sour attitude and stormy disposition.
“Why do you need to concentrate?” he asked then, drawing me out of my thoughts.
For a moment, I simply blinked at him, wondering if I'd heard him correctly.
“Excuse me?” I replied, caught off guard.
“Why do you need to concentrate to access the dark?” he repeated, obviously annoyed at having to do so. “Were you concentrating when you blasted a hole in the wards surrounding the Underground? Were you concentrating when you saved yourself and your partner from the avalanche of the ninth Trial?”
I stared at him.
“What do you—”
“Accessing the dark is not about concentration,” he interrupted, turning and stalking away from me so I was left with no choice but to follow.
Cursing, I scrambled down the rock and hurried after him.
“How would you know?” I called out. “Seeing as I’m apparently the only one who can do it.”
“You aren’t the only one,” he snapped, whirling to face me. “You’re the only one who has the magic in such a capacity, such a quantity. But you're not the only one who can access it at all.”
I stopped, stunned for the first time. The way they'd spoken to me before, the way they'd told me the story, made it seem like I was the only one, their salvation. To know I wasn’t alone made a difference in some small way.
“You can access it then?” I asked, breathless with hope, anticipation.
“Not me,” he replied curtly, mouth set in a grim line.
My hope shattered, smile faltered, and shoulders fell in an instant.
“Then why would Prima say you were the one who should teach me?” I asked, confused. “If there are others capable of accessing the dark and you can't, then surely—”
“We don't make a habit of revealing the identities of those who can call the dark,” he growled. “Given the danger to your own safety, I'd hoped you might understand that.”
“But if they can help,” I started. “If they can fight the Geist with us or at least help me learn how—”
“They'll be informed of your arrival. They'll know what it means and they'll make their choice. Some will choose to fight. Some will choose to continue leading the comfortable existence they’ve managed to carve out for themselves during their lifetime.
We're not the Geist, Adrian. We don't force anyone to fight for us.”
“Except me,” I grumbled bitterly. “Right?”
His gaze narrowed and he took a threatening step toward me. I resisted the urge to step away, choosing to raise my chin in defiance instead.
“You have a choice,” he told me. “You can choose to turn around and walk back to the Underground any time you want. You can even try to break back into Sanctuary. Gods know I won’t stop you.
Even though I know Prima and the others would want me to.
But you would be choosing to die and you know it.
If the Geist didn’t find and kill you, the desert would.
And even if you made it all the way back, what would you do?
Tell everyone the truth and start a holy war?
You think the leaders of Sanctuary will give up their power and admit they were wrong just because their gods turned out to be monsters, that is if they even believed you?
You'd start a war. You’d doom your friends and family, anyone you care about, to an early death.
But you know that too. So yes, Adrian, you have a choice.
We have given you a choice. But sometimes a choice given isn’t really a choice at all, is it? ”
His voice had dropped to levels that seemed nearly dangerous. And I knew he was right, knew every word he said was true, but I refused to admit it. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. So instead, I merely crossed my arms and glared right back at him.
“Are you going to teach me or what?” I snapped.
His grin was almost feral as he began prowling around me.
“Sitting around in meditation clearly isn’t working,” he drawled. “With the avalanche, I presume you were able to access the power due to it being a near death experience. But what occurred in the Underground? What triggered your use of the darkness?”
I swallowed, a clear memory of Darius crushed beneath half a ton of fallen rock pressing against my consciousness. I cleared my throat and hesitated. Gryfon had strolled all the way around me and now paused before me, brow raised and waiting for an explanation.
“It was Darius,” I said, doing my best to maintain my composure at the memory.
“He was—there was a rock slide and he was crushed. We couldn’t get him out and I—I don’t really remember what I did but I just…
I thought I was going to lose him. One minute I’m on my knees, screaming, and the next there’s a hole blown through the wall and you’re there and then…
well, I don’t remember much after that.”
“Near death once again,” he responded with a nod, stroking his chin in thought. “Once yours and once another’s. Interesting.”
“I’m so glad my trauma has provided a thought-provoking exercise for you,” I snapped.
He only grinned back at me.
“Your trigger is desperation,” he decided. “You only call the dark as a last resort. We have to change that.”
“And how do you intend to—” I started.
I hadn’t even finished my sentence when a blade went spinning through the air, coming so close to me that it nicked my left ear as it passed. I hissed, raising a hand to my ear which came away with a trickle of blood. Stunned, I faced him once more with an open mouth and wide eyes.
He'd already drawn another dagger and was flipping it in the air, catching it by the hilt again and again. He raised a brow.
“You expect me to believe you would kill me?” I snapped, wiping the blood on my shirt. “You need me.”
“Not if you can’t call the dark,” he replied easily, flipping the dagger once more.
My gaze narrowed and I growled, actually growled, at the overconfident man standing before me.
“This is ridiculous,” I said, throwing my hands up into the air.
“This is how I train,” he answered. “Take it or leave it. It makes no difference to me.”
With that, he sheathed the blade at his side and turned, making his way back across the sand toward camp.
I watched him go for a moment, tempted to allow his departure.
But I needed him. Prima had claimed he was the best one to teach me and, though I was seriously beginning to doubt her saintly judgment, I truly had no other options.
I needed to call the dark. If I was ever going to face the Geist, if I ever found myself up against the gods who seemed set on my capture or execution, one couldn’t be sure, I needed to be able to access this magic they so feared.
“Fine,” I called out to him.
He hesitated before turning slowly to face me. That feral grin returned to his lips as he pulled his dagger slowly from its sheath once more.
“Good,” he replied evenly, eyes darkening as they narrowed upon me. “Now, run.”
The dagger flew.