Chapter 39
They must have heard what happened all the way in Isthyr, I say to Fen as I survey the carnage all around us.
Don’t worry, Little Raven, he replies, though he doesn’t specify what. Maybe because he knows there’s no point. I’m going to worry. Worry is all I’ve got right now.
Worry and a ticking clock pressing down on me. The pain in my hands is constant, the poison ready to punish me, destroy me, if I can’t complete the last stage of the Veil in time.
There is no question as to our destination.
Fen runs and I cling to him, the feel of his fur between my fingers is a focal point to cling to with both body and mind, and by the time we reach the river, my pulse is back where it should be.
For the first time in days, I don’t pause to grow the riverweed as we cross onto the sacred lands. Nothing must stop me today.
When we reach the caves, I unsheathe my blade, only for my adrenaline to spike again. Now that we know what it is, or at least have a one-in-three chance of knowing what it is, leaving it outside hardly feels like the safest option. Maybe I shou—
I will not let anyone take it from me, Fen interrupts my thoughts, his voice solemn. On my life and yours. Besides, if a shade were to come, I would see its footprints on the fresh snow.
He’s right. If only there had been fresh snow in the city the other night.
Go, Little Raven. I will stop anyone who tries to take the blade.
There are no jokes about ripping out trachea now. Tracheas? Tracheuses? Tracheae? What is the plural of trachea? My thoughts are slow and heavy like molasses.
It probably doesn’t matter.
My heart is heavy when I enter the Veil. The flames rise up and then fade as the vision begins, and for some reason I am grateful for the sense of detachment that’s followed me from the ice. For the first time, it doesn’t seem to hurt as much to watch my mother – so close and yet out of reach.
With detached determination, I stay until the bitter end. Until the queen takes her last breath.
I watch as Kyor crumples and breaks and my own heart breaks anew.
Is that what I needed to learn, to accept? That my mother was human? Fallible?
With that, the scene fades entirely, and for the first time, the Veil gently pushes me out rather than me being thrust out in a storm of emotion.
Tears streak my cheeks and my sobs echo around the cold cave walls.
I have finally lasted through the final door of stage three of the Veil. I stayed until the bitter fucking end, yet it’s not enough. The Veil still burns gold, and the marks on my hands remain black. The door is still there.
I have not completed it.
I have learned nothing.
I swipe angrily at the hot tears pouring down my face.
‘What more am I supposed to do?’ I scream the words at the Godsforsaken fire that flickers in the cave, as strong and bright as ever.
‘What the hell are you expecting me to learn? That Mother couldn’t do it?
That she couldn’t save them? I already knew that!
What then? That Kyor would never recover from that heartbreak?
I know that, too. What do you want from me?
Why give me all this power if I’m only going to fail now?
Why speak to me like I matter if I’m only going to lose my life to this damn poison? What do you want!’
It was easier, I think then, my life in the slums. Yes, we were cold all the time, magicless, and half a day away from starving more times than I care to recall, but life was simpler.
It was Kay and me against the world. That was it.
And then there was a way out. The Retterheld.
The answer to all our problems. Yeah fucking right.
Now I’m the caretaker of a dagger that judges you, that chooses how much people bleed. And I face a Veil made of fire that does not burn you but shows you the same vision on repeat until you feel half mad.
And though I once had no magic, I now have too much for one person. My own magic and that gifted by Etta and Oel as well. I know now, more than any other still breathing, that the gifts from the Gods carry their own thorns.
I think of the destruction I left on the mountainside. Too much fucking magic. Magic that refuses to listen to what I ask it to do.
Magic that might very well destroy me in the end.
All the same … I wouldn’t go back to before. I wouldn’t.
I’d lose Kyor, William, Fen, and Benny. I’d lose seeing Ruben in a whole new light too. And Caz with her wicked sense of humour and obscene love of books. It was easier and simpler then, but it wasn’t fuller.
And I wouldn’t have ever known Llinos, which was a blessing while she lived and a curse now she’s gone.
Tears prick my eyes, but whether they are of grief or frustration I can’t say, given that both thunder through me.
What would Llin say to all of this?
I almost laugh as I visualise her, hands on her hips, hazel eyes flashing with exasperation. You are not giving up just because you’re having a bad day, Rose. Nobody died. You just did a little landscape remodelling. Now, pick yourself up and go and lick Kyor’s abs for me.
The thought makes me half laugh, half sob. I can hear her so clearly it hurts.
So I pick myself up, and I march back outside to where Fen is waiting for me, standing guard over the dagger, hackles raised and poised for an attack.
Would you like to talk about it, Little Raven? I hear that for your type, talking helps.
My type being? I demand, ready to kick his fluffy arse if he means women.
Humans, he replies, unknowingly saving himself from a tongue-lashing.
Right. Well, no, thank you. I’m all talked out right now, I respond briskly.
Perhaps some carnal time with the prince might help? I have heard that is good for human frustration.
It makes me shake my head that somehow his and Llin’s probable advice align.
Sex isn’t always the answer.
As a male, I can confirm that it often is.
I laugh a little at that. Well, I’m not talking to you about sex. And before you suggest it, I have no desire to eat any trachea of any type.
I was going to suggest you consume something sweet to replenish your body’s need for sugar. Riverweed cakes?
Fen’s right. I should have headed to the palace before coming here. Had something to eat. After all, the way I was trembling as I rode him back had nothing to do with the magic and everything to do with the adrenaline soaring through me.
I don’t want cakes. I just want to complete the Veil.
It feels like every time I’m making progress these days, there’s another fucking setback.
I get through the Retterheld and find my little brother is alive, only to discover we’re Issen and we’re a living, breathing death sentence.
So I go in search of the Issen, only to discover there are Myrkrs and Rottings.
I also found out we’re part Torailian and part Sanning.
Meaning it wasn’t just my mother who lied to us, but my father too.
And then, when I finally find the Issen, which is meant to solve all my problems, I have to go through this Veil to make sure I’m royalty, but now I know I’m royalty, my powers are all fucked up.
When does it all stop, Fen? When does it get easy? When do I get a normal life?
There’s a beat of silence.
You were not born for an easy life, Little Raven. You resonate with destiny.
Well, I huff, destiny can fuck off.
I feel his amusement wash over me, but it’s tempered with compassion and affection. Enough so that I let the amusement slide.
Little Raven, I knew when we bonded that the Gods had chosen you for something special. I cannot say why or what that is, but they have. And even you must sense it.
Have they chosen me for something special or have they chosen to make my life an absolute fucking torment?
Perhaps both, he replies cheerfully. He lowers his body and I climb onto his back with far more finesse than I did that first time. It feels an age ago – an entire lifetime – since I found him, there in the mud, struggling to keep his head above the rising tide.
Burying my hands in his fur, I push those thoughts away and just let myself breathe. I imagine the light in my toes, in my legs, my stomach, my neck, my head. And when I feel centred, I reach out again to Fen and feel his answering pride.
You did that easily, Little Raven. You may not see your improvement, but I do.
You grow stronger every day. Now, where are we going?
The library or the palace? If it makes you feel better, my mate has told me that your mate wishes to apologise.
That he knows he was in the wrong. About many things, apparently.
I’m grateful to know that Kyor is taking some responsibility for his actions, but it doesn’t affect the answer I give to Fen’s other question. An answer I’d formed before he even asked.
I think perhaps I should visit the temple.
Of Oel? he asks as he starts forward.
Of Etta.
His surprise is tangible but short-lived. As you wish, Little Raven.
The journey is swift on Fen’s paws.
In comparison to the one in Wrohelm, the temple to Etta here is tiny. One large room with, I assume, a space out back for the priestesses. No vaulted ceilings. No chandeliers or great marble pillars.
There are, however, some simple stone pews, so I take a seat.
I’m not entirely sure where to start my prayer.
‘I … I have questions for you,’ I say aloud. ‘Questions I don’t suspect you’d give me the answer to, even if you could. But I’m going to ask them.’
I fix my gaze on the middle distance, imagining the Goddess there. I take a deep breath. ‘I want to know why you picked me. Was it because I deserved the gifting or was it because of something else? Because of what I am, not just who I am?’
I wait. The candles sputter in the cold air, but no answer comes. ‘I guess I just hoped that … hoped…’ Even before my voice stutters, I know I won’t get to finish my words.
Not from the sweeping feeling that snatches me away, compressing me into a small, avian body. Clearly, a visit to Etta’s temple isn’t the only unexpected trip I’m going to take today.