Chapter 46 #3
When we reach the river, the bridge I create this time is far more opaque than the one I made the previous evening, though whether that means it’s stronger or weaker, I don’t know, and I figure it’s best to wait for an Issen’s advice before I test it with my weight.
Fen doesn’t even pretend to give it a go, heading straight for Magnus’s before mine is even fully built.
You could at least act like you have a little faith in me, I tell him grumpily.
I do, Little Raven. In so, so many respects. But I can still have faith and not want to risk being plunged into icy water.
Given that I, too, take Magnus’s bridge, I can’t exactly blame him.
I head immediately for the vandsang, the place where I normally find it easiest to clear my mind, but I’m unsurprised when my thoughts refuse to settle. No amount of visualising light can stop the images that infiltrate my mind.
Images of the jotnar racing down the mountain towards us. Of the bloodstains in the snow as Benny dragged himself away. Of the flames filling Ruben’s gaze and me piling more magic into him. Too much more.
When I try to shift my attention somewhere else, it moves to Kay. The fear of her magic. Her grief for her loss of the baby and her fear for William.
Jonas wasn’t worried about William being missing, or at least he didn’t appear that way, but what if he should be?
What if it’s more than just spending time with his friends?
What if somebody has seen the patterns on his skin?
Would they even think to tell Jonas and Kay of his execution?
To the rest of Wrohelm, he’s one of Artur’s wards and nothing more.
They have no idea of Kay’s blood relation to him.
No, they would tell Jonas. He’s all but a brother to William, and everyone knows that. He would know. He would.
I give up! I tell Fen, smashing my hands into one of the vandsang pools. The water splashes higher than expected, spraying icy cold into my face.
I can’t do this. Not today.
Then maybe you try the Veil.
Annoyance shudders through me. If I can’t steady my thoughts out here, what chance do I have of completing the Veil? I question miserably. I will fail. As I have done countless times already.
It does not matter how many times you fail, how often the world tells you ‘not yet’.
Failure may visit you a thousand times, but it only needs to lose its grip once.
Get up, Little Raven, as you do time and time again.
In the end, a single moment of triumph will outweigh every stumble that came before.
Fen is right, I know he is, yet I can’t bear more failure today.
I am balanced on a knife-edge, and it won’t take much to break me.
My breath is shaky as I exhale and ascend the steps that lead out of the cave and away from the Veil.
Perhaps I am a coward. Who knows what nuances I might spot this time in the visions if I only had the courage to try?
But I know the pain that fills my heart now and the heaviness that clouds my thoughts.
Watching another death – the death of someone Kyor loved – that’s just not something I can face today.
No, I tell Fen with a shake of my head. I appreciate the pep talk – I do – but I want to go to the library. See if I can find some more information about these daggers. See if I can find out which one I’ve—
I stop, bracing a hand against the edge of the cave to steady myself as a ripple of emotion severs my train of thought. It isn’t only the strength of it that catches me off guard, but the emotion itself.
Excitement. Anticipation. Emotions as far from my own as possible.
That’s not coming from you, is it?
What? What do you mean, Little Raven?
With tentative steps towards the mouth of the cave, I reach for his feelings, but they’re no different from what they have been all morning. Worry for me, longing for his nights with Elska, and a hundred other concerns, most of them circling back to me.
But there is no excitement. No eagerness.
No, that feeling is not Fen’s, nor is it mine.
Little Raven! Fen calls with urgency. What is wrong? Tell me!
One moment, I fire back.
I steady my breath, reaching out, trying to feel the same sensation again. When it hits, it’s in multitudes, as if it’s not one person’s emotion I’m feeling. It’s several. A whole group, in fact.
My pulse soars as I slam my blocks into place, pushing away from the connection with such panicked force that Fen yelps.
Panting, I try to steady a trembling hand against the cave wall.
I have to be wrong. I have to be.
But the sick dread that curls in my stomach tells me I’m not.
There’s only one other time I’ve been inundated by emotions that way. Only one time I’ve sensed feelings other than Fen’s, but I need to be sure. With as much control as I can, I open up the narrowest of pathways down the bond, like a pinprick of light in an abyss.
What is it, Little Raven? His impatience buffets me.
I can feel people, Fen. I can feel them in my mind, and that can only mean one thing…
He understands without further words.
The Torailians are here. In Isthyr.