Chapter 34
You have so many choices, and yet only one will work for you and the kingdom.
— ALARIC SARE’S PAPERS FOR EMBERLINE ARKOVA
Ihated leaving Charon and the peace of his cave, but if I wanted a future filled with nights just like the last, I still had work to do. Today, I needed to shape the gems we’d stolen from the mines. We needed the magic of the adamas to offer the Feared when we met with them tonight.
Though things with my father were far from fixed, he had brought some of his gem-cutting supplies with him when he and Mother fled to the Storm.
I was thankful that Alysa insisted everyone have a way to contribute.
Upon his arrival, gem work was all he’d known.
Since the skill set had little use in the Storm’s camp, he’d soon learned to help in other ways, but at least he still had the tools with him.
Our conversation at the fire proved that I hadn’t spent nearly enough time with my parents since my return.
I knew it was a problem for another day.
We were so close to completing our trials, if only I could find my own source of joy.
After last night, I knew we were closer than ever to understanding the final gemstone on our pendant.
But none of that stopped me from wishing things were different with my parents.
As we returned to camp and approached my parents’ tent, Hart placed a steadying hand at my lower back. He knew—he always knew what I tried to hide. After Father’s words last night, I didn’t know what toll this conversation would take on me.
“Emberline.” Father sat by one of the cook fires, stirring something that looked like porridge. “You’re back.”
I told myself there was some enthusiasm in the statement. That he’d been worried about me, and to see me now was reassurance that breaking into the mines had gone as expected. But maybe that asked a lot of a barely three-word greeting.
I nodded. “It was a success, and now I need to borrow your gem-cutting equipment if I can.”
Father nodded. “It’s in the tent. Take whatever you need. Your mother is in there, resting.”
Part of me wanted to say more, but mostly I wanted to retreat from the stiffness of the conversation.
I wanted to fall into work that I knew. I wanted Hart to have time to sit with Alaric’s notes and sort through the missing pieces of this puzzle.
Yet as I turned to collect the gem saw and clasp, Father mumbled something.
“What was that, Father?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Are you really going to overthrow the king?”
Word of our plans must have spread through the camp. It made sense, given we expected many of the Storm to participate in the attack. “That was the point of all of this, wasn’t it?”
Slowly, Father shook his head. “I have no idea what the point of all of this was. Chaos took my daughter, and Rodric’s Blessed took my wife.” He spoke with resignation, but beneath the words, I heard the anger now that I knew to look for it.
“Funny,” I said with little mirth. “I would say that Rodric’s Blessed took both my mother and my father from me.”
He tilted his head in consideration. Pain briefly contorted his features, but he didn’t address it. He lifted his chin in reply. “I’m right here.”
“So am I.”
His nod was nearly imperceptible, but as with him offering his anger, this was one of the most honest conversations I’d had with him since Mother’s accident. Maybe, eventually, we could learn about each other as we were, instead of the shadows of prophecies and chosen Champions.
I turned to enter the tent. Hart waited while I slipped inside.
The setup was very similar to Alysa’s. A nest of blankets was bunched to the left, and a trunk sat on the right.
Mother still lay within the bedding. The trunk was the only storage location in the space.
I turned to it to search for the tools. Mother’s breathing was even as I opened the latch and rummaged through their few belongings.
The saw and clasp I required were easy enough to find.
As I pulled the items free and turned to leave, the whisper of my name halted me. “Ember, baby, is that you?”
Mother had been so quiet last night. Part of me wondered what she had to say about Father’s revelations. “It’s me.”
“How was Linia?” she asked. “I always knew you’d go.”
I’d seen her since my return, but it seemed she wasn’t in a frame of mind to remember that at the moment.
I stepped to the foot of the bedding. “It was … nice.” I wasn’t sure what to say.
It didn’t seem worth reminding her that I’d been grieving Alaric when I arrived.
I also wasn’t sure how much she knew about what Hart had kept from me.
“Citizens are allowed to learn freely there. They don’t monitor who reads what and what books are allowed in the libraries. ”
“That sounds nice, baby.”
I let out a breath. “It was.”
How much did she remember about her prophecy? I did not doubt that her visions had led Alaric to leave the papers with Queen Lucinda. Hart had them tucked inside his tunic now.
“Do you remember seeing that I’d go there?” I asked.
I had never questioned her so directly about her gifts. They’d seemed so obvious to me when Hart had indicated that Champions of Kavios was written by a talented seer—one whom Alaric appeared to know, since he had the only copy in existence.
She reached for my hand. I set the items I’d come for on top of the trunk and walked to the side of the bed.
Her grasp was so light, it felt almost like she only rested her fingers in my palm.
I hoped the Storm wasn’t having trouble collecting the youngleaf for her tonic.
The mudslide made it harder to reach. Even outside of the influence of Rodric’s magic, she seemed to need it, given how much emotion had been stolen from her. I’d ask Alysa about it today.
“I knew you’d go,” she said. “So many paths were laid out before you, but I knew the one you’d pick.”
“How did you know?” I wasn’t sure if she had actually known or if the vision had just been extra strong, or one that had come again and again. These were some of the many questions I wished I could ask Alaric.
“You had so many choices, yet there was only one that would work. That’s what no one likes to think about.
Chaos and Order are more related than we think.
Some think it’s the abundance of choice versus the absence of choice, but that’s incorrect.
” She swallowed thickly, and tears seemed to well in her eyes even though they had that faraway quality that I had come to realize was her recollection of prophesies.
“Why is that incorrect?” I asked in a whisper.
“The Champions may be born of choice and the absence thereof, but that’s not what matters. There is a freedom with knowing, deep down, that there is only one choice to be made. Only one choice that you can live with.”
Her words validated the hypothesis I’d formed yesterday, that the final adamas gem would be choice.
This also sounded very much like the conversation I’d had with myself when I chose to become Jeweler to the Blessed.
When Prince Elias had cornered me—had tested me—had asked me to tell him what the stone he’d tossed my way was.
I could have lied. I could have said I didn’t know, but none of those answers had felt right.
Similarly, in the woods, as Hart bled out before me, he’d claimed I was forced to choose. He’d worried I was coerced into my choice to become Chaos’s Champion and wield the magic to save his life. Maybe that was partially true, but it was still the only decision I could have made.
Mother’s words resonated, but I had no clue what to do with them. They indicated that the final trial would be a choice for which there was only one right answer—only one answer we each could live with.
I wanted to free Hart from Themis. That felt not only necessary but right. Still, something nagged in the back of my mind. Like Charon had said, it didn’t feel … representative of mine and Hart’s connection—the key to all of this.
Our time was short. We’d plan our moves with the Feared and the Storm tonight, and then we’d have to see them through. I needed to finish my part in the trials before we could even deal with the choice.
I squeezed Mother’s fingers. She’d validated my theory, but something was still missing. “I’m not sure I understand, Mother, but thank you for sharing.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome, baby. You’re always welcome. I know you’ll figure it out.”
I wish I had her easy confidence, but I couldn’t lament that now. I may no longer be Jeweler to the Blessed, but my talents as a jeweler were required before our meeting with the Feared tonight.
The gemstones were warm in my hand as Hart and I found a quiet spot, hidden in a copse of trees, to work. I’d shared Mother’s words as we walked. He didn’t have much more insight into them than I did, but he patted his pocket, where he’d kept Alaric’s papers, and said he’d see what he could find.
He took a seat next to a tree trunk wide enough to support his shoulders.
I set up a makeshift table and clamped the first stone in place.
It would be tricky, since Father’s saw wasn’t made of adamas, but we couldn’t risk attempting to retrieve Alaric’s tools.
These stones didn’t have to be pretty; they just had to work.
“You don’t need my help this time, Chaos?” Hart asked as he unfolded Alaric’s pages and flipped through them without looking up.