Chapter 15 #2
‘But you implied that I would only have to do the one part,’ I remind him. ‘Why not tell me the truth? Why not just say I had to do all three parts?’
‘Truthfully?’ The old man moves to the front of the chair.
‘Because I hoped you would make the choice yourself. I thought a couple of days might be enough to change your mind, to convince you to choose Isthyr. It was a foolish old man’s dream, I know that now, to think you could be convinced so quickly.
And I really was going to tell you. I swear it. I swear on your life, Rose.’
‘You’ve already done that,’ Kyor snarls beside me.
A lump has lodged itself in my throat, and it takes several attempts to swallow it down before I can speak.
‘So,’ I say eventually, ‘what happens now? The next two stages. What do they involve? What do I need to do?’
He exhales slowly. ‘You will not find anyone willing to talk about that journey. I’m sorry, but it is sacred to the people of Isthyr. Truly sacred. All I can say is that you will be equipped with everything you need to be the greatest leader you can be once you have completed it.’
‘If I complete it, right? Because if I don’t, then this poison is going to kill me.’
In his silence, I look to Benny. My friend offers a single solemn nod.
So that’s it. I don’t have a choice. It’s just another potentially life-ending trial awaiting me. Do or die. Yet again.
I close my eyes and curse the Gods and their sick sense of humour.
I open them and fix my gaze on the king. ‘I need to know what I have to do. How can I train for this?’
‘There is no training.’ Magnus smiles softly. ‘That is why I was not worried about a few lost days. I can take you to the second stage now if that is what you desire.’
I’m not sure that desire is the right word for it, but it’s not like I have a choice, and so I dip my chin in a nod.
‘I guess somebody should go outside and tell Stefan that training is on hold for today,’ I say.
I should at least be allowed to maim him for a lie like that, Fen complains as we approach the sacred lands. A king can still rule his people without an arm, can’t he? Or perhaps a few missing ribs.
I doubt even you have the skill to extract a few ribs without killing him, I fire back, but I appreciate Fen’s loyalty all the same.
Appreciate his solid support and the way he didn’t even blink when I said we might be dying again.
Instead, he simply shrugged and said, We are all dying with every day we live.
That’s bleak, I replied.
But true, he said cheerfully, and that was that.
Now we follow my grandfather to the second stage of the Rite. No, not grandfather. I shouldn’t call him that, even in my thoughts. The king. My betrayer.
It seems like betrayal is an inherited trait in my family. Well, Gods know that I’m going to break that cycle. I will never betray Kay or William for so long as I live.
The others all offered to walk with me as far as the river, and I’m grateful for their presence, even if I don’t have it in me to speak. In the absence of conversation, I use the journey to take in a little more of the city.
More than once we pass groups of children playing out on the streets, sometimes with magic, other times with toys, but regardless of how they entertain themselves, it’s clear they have no worries of who might be lurking in the shadows.
No fear that it might be another day they go with empty stomachs.
And the way they play … it has so much control.
So much respect for one another. No hair-pulling, no shouting at each other, no storming off in tantrums. It feels weird and unnatural – yet also deeply welcome.
Life here is so calm. So fair. So unlike anything I have experienced.
It seems absurd that my mother would want to lose memories of such a peaceful place, but maybe its peace is the reason she wanted to forget when faced with the ruin of Wrohelm.
When the river comes into view, the water appears even clearer than previously, thin tendrils of riverweed billowing and bending with the current beneath the surface.
A little way downstream, a group of Issen are farming it.
There’s such calmness to the way they work, their light chatter and occasional happy turns of song reaching my ears.
Magnus, Fen, and I leave the others at the water’s edge and cross the bridge. When we reach the cave, Magnus turns to me. ‘Once again, you must leave your dagger,’ the king says. ‘I see you still have it on you.’
‘Yes.’ I take it out and place it next to Fen, this time making it very obvious the gesture is one borne from a lack of trust.
I will see you when you return, Princess Raven, Fen says.
My throat is thick with fear and apprehension, but most of all with anger, and a surprising amount of it is directed inwards.
I was still a long way from considering Magnus family, but I had hoped that a relationship might form, that he might be the father figure I had missed for most of my adult life.
And I had assumed that he wanted that too.
But I cannot see how our relationship can be repaired after this.
Once alone, I head down the stairs, taking in the bluish glow that reflects off the smooth ice walls.
The flames have not changed colour since I left them, or at least that is how it appears.
Which means I’ve got to brace myself again, although hopefully this time it’ll be easier, knowing that I’ve walked through the fire once.
The thought is quickly replaced by a dry and bitter chuckle in my mind.
When have matters ever got easier? Not once, that’s what I’ve learned.
Maybe they’ve changed it so that it’s no longer a Veil of fire but one of nails, or maybe I’ve got to wade my way through a pit of poisonous vipers. Right now, nothing would surprise me.
But when I reach the bottom of the stairs, it is those flickering, pale-blue tongues of translucent flame that greet me once again.
Okay, Rose, no wasting time. Let’s do this. No hesitation. Fucking own it.
I step towards the wall, surprised to feel no heat radiating from it. The temperature is perfectly pleasant, but I still choose to close my eyes as I step forward into it.
There’s no burning sensation, save for the residual tingling in my arms, and I quicken my pace as I walk through. A moment later, I open my eyes.
‘Okay,’ I mutter to myself. ‘This is not what I expected.’
I’m on the other side of the cave, the flames behind me, and in front of me is an Issen sitting with his back to me, as if in meditation.
I’m not exactly sure what I’m meant to do. After all, I assumed the challenge would be to just go through the Veil, the same as last time.
My eyes remain locked on the person before me.
This feels far, far too easy to be an entire stage.
My eyes are still darting back and forth as I struggle to decide what to do when the Issen stands and turns to face me.
‘Toren?’ I frown. ‘Hey. What are you—’ I stop.
Something about him is wrong. No, not wrong exactly, but … different. The way he stands and the perfect stillness of him, his hands resting loosely at his sides. Toren has never carried himself like this.
And his eyes.
Gone are the familiar white irises, replaced instead by a deep, burning gold.
‘Oh,’ I whisper.
My stomach corkscrews with icy unease as I stare at the figure before me wearing Toren’s face, but somehow not Toren at all.
For the second time in my life, I am standing before a God.