Chapter 31
I have no right to ask, but forgive us all, Ember. This path wasn’t easy for anyone.
— ALARIC SARE’S PAPERS FOR EMBERLINE ARKOVA
My life had been about survival for too long. I was no closer to finding joy when we returned to camp. With the exception of finding my way to Hart, I did what was necessary for what I thought this kingdom deserved.
It sounded so … formal. So prudent. Could that be joy?
If I had to ask, I didn’t think I was on the right track.
Reid handed me a bowl of stew as we approached the roaring fire.
A handful of the Storm’s residents stood around it, and a cookpot boiled over the flames.
The group wore all black, better to cover their movements in the night.
By the soft light of the fire, I saw that most of those prepared had knives strapped to their ankles and waists.
One even had an axe strapped to her back, and she stood with a confidence that said she could wield it.
They were dressed for battle. While that was precisely what they might be walking into, the reality of it struck me hard.
Hart helped himself to a bowl of stew, too. I took a hearty spoonful, letting the warmth of the root vegetables flood my insides after little success in Hart’s expedition.
“You two ready?” Reid asked.
Hart glanced at me, and I nodded. “We need the mine empty for ten minutes at the most.”
Reid crossed his arms over his chest, unconvinced.
“The old entrance is unguarded. It’s a benefit of having such an elderly partner in crime. We know all the old ways in.” I elbowed Hart as he came to stand beside me.
He grumbled something about “respecting my elders” under his breath as he tucked into his own stew.
Reid laughed. “We’ll give you as much time as we can.”
Before I could respond, a light touch circled my waist. Stifling my immediate reaction to panic, I glanced over my shoulder. My mother’s hold was gentle. I should have known it was her, as Hart had barely tensed at my side.
“Hey, baby, we heard you were back.”
I turned to see Father standing just beyond her shoulder. He didn’t look happy, and that might have been an understatement. “You’re going into the mines? Have you lost all sense?” he hissed.
Hart stiffened at the tone, but I brushed my hand against his forearm. This wasn’t his fight. Father couldn’t possibly be angry about the path they’d set me on since birth. “I’m doing what is necessary. What you all wanted from me.”
Mother squeezed my hand lightly. “Don’t be too hard on him. He never truly accepted what Eris demanded of you.”
I guessed she had said that before. Before the Blessing Ceremony, when I’d confronted them both about the lies they’d told and the secrets they’d kept, she’d said that Father had his own way of dealing with everything.
In Kavios, that had meant he let Rodric’s calming magic wash over him.
He hadn’t taken youngleaf in the city as Mother did.
“My choices are my own,” he said, glancing between us.
“As are mine,” I replied.
“Do you really think your choices are your own with your mother and Alaric’s interference?”
I felt the words like a slap. It must have shown, because he sighed and rubbed his temples before he finally met my gaze. Something lingered there that I couldn’t remember ever seeing. Concern? Or was I just telling myself that?
When was the last time I’d thought my father cared what happened to me?
Certainly not when he’d sent me to our jewelry shop to work by myself at age eight.
Maybe momentarily, when I’d told him I was to become Jeweler to the Blessed with Alaric’s disappearance, but even that, he hadn’t fought hard.
He’d quickly admitted he couldn’t handle the separation from Mother that the job would require.
Hadn’t I wanted him to care then?
Maybe the distance from Rodric’s calming magic was taking hold.
In the end, I had to believe these were my choices.
Stories Alaric had hidden away told of seers like Mother.
As with dragons, I’d previously considered them fiction.
Eventually, those fictions had come to life before my eyes.
But I believed that Mother’s foresight granted her the ability to see options—paths.
Clearly, Mother and Alaric had placed bets on certain paths, but they couldn’t have been guaranteed. Every path was a choice. And those choices were mine.
“Mother and Alaric planned for many paths, it seems. Alaric’s note when he first disappeared had hoped that I’d still leave Kavios.
He all but begged me to go to Linia on my own.
Had I chosen that path, I wouldn’t have known Hart.
He might have escorted me through the Oldwood, but nothing would have built between us. ”
Hart took a step closer, behind me, as if to ensure his steady presence and the heat his proximity always brought were well within my reach. His own silent reassurance that he was with me.
“And that wasn’t even my first choice.” I looked up.
The night was cloud-covered, and the stars were few.
Each one I catalogued reminded me of another option Alaric had laid before me.
“My first choice was leaving Kavios. He wasn’t going to stop me.
He planned to let me walk away from everything if that’s what I wanted. ”
I hadn’t wanted that. I hadn’t stayed only out of a duty to find my missing uncle, but to understand the true dangers that threatened my home.
“Then Ciril itself.” I swallowed as I realized where this was going. “The papers from the queen, they were only to be given to me if specific criteria were met.”
Hart cupped my waist with one hand. He’d never for a second believed the reason I gave him for the queen passing me the papers, but he hadn’t pressed. It was another instance where I knew he saw too much. Something sweet hit my tongue as I spoke.
“I can’t begin to explain to you the specific set of choices that had to be made—by me—for that threshold to be met. For the queen to share the knowledge Alaric left with her.”
Father opened his mouth to respond, but I continued.
“Each and every choice that brought me here has been my own. Life is a set of circumstances I choose how to navigate. You could argue that I didn’t choose to be born in Kavios.
I didn’t choose to be a seemingly human subject under Rodric’s reign.
Neither did most of the citizens. We can’t think of life in such a manner.
It’s fruitless. All we can do is choose among the options presented to us.
They are mine, and I have to live with the consequences of them. ”
My breaths were heavy as I finished. Hart’s fingers gripped my side in that steady reassurance he often provided.
Father studied me. I wondered if he saw me truly for the first time. Something sparked in his gaze as he noted the adamas ring on my finger. “You wear their weapon against us?”
I didn’t have time to explain the trials, to explain the situation Hart and I found ourselves in. “I choose what I can live with, Father. I can live with wielding magic for this cause from those who give it willingly—who know the cost.”
His eyes gleamed with a challenge. “Then take my anger, Emberline. I won’t have you undefended.”
My gaze slipped to Mother. I wondered how much she remembered about the trials, how much she’d told him. The ask was oddly specific, indicating he might know I no longer had access to my own magic. It was something only she could have shared.
Did I want Father’s anger? My first instinct was no, but we were heading into the mines. The adamas cavern would be locked. Hart had broken into it previously with anger-fueled strength.
I turned to Hart. His steady gaze told me this, too, would be my choice.
If anger was all my father could give me, I’d let him.
He’d shown less emotion than I had since Mother’s accident.
I, more than most, knew the value of giving voice to my feelings.
How much had I learned about myself by sharing it with Hart?
If I wanted a change in my relationship with my father, this would be a simple step.
I nodded, but I couldn’t actually take from him. My curse was such that I could only take from Hart. And as of today’s trials, I couldn’t even take from him.
Reid seemed to understand, and he stepped forward. While most of those around the fire had the social grace to pretend they hadn’t listened to every word of our conversation, they stopped pretending now. Silence circled us as I handed my ring to Reid and he reached for Father’s offered hand.
It was a useless gesture, but I took Father’s hand as well. His skin was cool. And though I couldn’t feel his anger, the red flash of the gem matched the narrowing of his gaze, the pinching of his brow. Whatever memory or thought he fixated on, it pulsed anger through him.
He whispered low, words meant only for me. “It was never your fault—your mother’s accident. I’m so angry I ever let you think it was. It was easier to block out what happened. To care for Isabelle and not focus on regret.”
The strength of his anger shocked me. On Reid’s hand, my adamas ring flashed bright red as it absorbed what he gave.
“You were with Alaric and me before the festival,” Father continued. “You slipped away in the crowded street when you thought you saw Isabelle. It was my fault you were even in that Blessed’s house to begin with.”
I swallowed. Memories I’d done so much to repress filled my mind. The blond head of hair I chased. The grand house that the Blessed had walked me to when I told her who I searched for. Alaric entering to find me too late.
With a flinch, I released my father’s hand. Reid followed my gesture and wordlessly handed me the filled ring. “It wasn’t your fault, either, Father.”
Mother placed her hand on his and patted it in reassurance.
“The Blessed took,” I said. “They tried to take from me without my consent. The fault begins and ends there. We can’t keep wondering what we could have done differently. How could we have prevented it? There was nothing we could do when the kingdom was stacked against us in the first place.”
Father hung his head. I didn’t know if he heard me.
“Good luck tonight, baby,” Mother said. “Say goodbye before you return to Kavios.” It was almost reassuring to see her usher Father away. She hadn’t led in such a manner since her accident. Here, in the woods with the Storm, she had regained some lost part of herself.
I’d done what I could. That discussion was the most honest one we’d had in my lifetime. I didn’t regret it, though it left me unsettled. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Hart and I needed to get a head start to be in place when the Storm’s disruption occurred.
“Thank you, Reid.”
He shrugged it off.
“Where’s Alysa?” Hart asked, searching the group around the fire. Or maybe simply changing the subject for me. Alysa had missed the entire interaction with my parents. It was unlike her.
Reid glanced sidelong and shrugged. “Preparing.”
I didn’t love the sound of that, but I trusted Alysa to grant us the time we needed.
This had been her idea after all. I’d pressed her on it.
The Storm attacking the mines sounded like something that would bring Rodric’s wrath down on them.
An attack like this pointed to the fact that there were those who opposed him en masse in the Oldwood.
Alysa had acknowledged my concerns, but her mind seemed to be set.
“She knows what she’s doing,” Reid reassured me.
I agreed. The planning and attention with which she cared for her people, I’d witnessed firsthand. It was no hardship to put my faith in her now as I prepared to enter the mines with Hart. We weren’t defenseless. Hart had his sword, and I had a little fear and a lot of anger in the adamas ring.
Hart’s conversation with Elias proved that Rodric knew we were here. While the use of magic would point with surety to everywhere we had been, remaining hidden was no longer an option.
With a final glance around the fire and a nod to the rest of the gathered Storm, Hart and I departed.