Chapter 19
To my dismay, the library doesn’t have any information about Siad Nahar, and neither does Dayfyd nor Alys.
The librarian mentions that Siad Nahar is a myth—which is far from comforting—but my gut tells me otherwise.
Perhaps the Purist isn’t entirely in her right mind, but I don’t believe she’s lying about this.
After the library, I head straight to training with Oksana. As I dismiss a small wall of shadows from in front of me, Oksana beams and applauds. “Well done, Durvla,” she tells me.
I smile and take a few breaths. “Thank you.” We’ve been practicing in her garden for a while now. It’s filled with flourishing plants and small fruit trees. “Oksana, do you know anything about Siad Nahar?” I ask.
The broad smile falls from her face.
She gestures to a wooden bench not far from where we stand and we sit beneath the shade of a tree.
“I do,” she responds once seated. “When I was just a child, many Mages spoke of seeking the truth through Siad Nahar. Once upon a time, it was almost like a spiritual retreat—a place to replenish one’s soul and therefore one’s magic.
Some people believe magic is tied to the soul, while others believe it comes from a more external source such as”—she waves her arms around—“nature, for example.”
I’d never thought of it that way. I hold my hand up, watching faint swirls of shadows gather in my palm. “I feel like I draw my shadows from within rather than from around me—perhaps that’s why people consider it from the soul?”
I look up at Oksana again, and she says, “Perhaps, but more importantly, might I congratulate you on such excellent control. You’ve come a long way.”
“Thank you.” I smile at her. “I was afraid I’d never be able to control them well enough to go Outside.”
“You youngsters put far too much pressure on the showy displays.” She scoffs.
“Control and strength are about more than being able to do things on a large scale. Sometimes it takes more control to summon a tiny shield than it does a larger one. Smaller takes precision and patience. The elements are hard enough to control, but shadow and light are a different beast. Too often, Mages are forced to learn skills quickly, which sadly causes a lot of people to skip over learning control. You know what too much magical expenditure leads to?”
I nod. “Burnout.”
“And burnout leads to death.”
My chest tightens.
“That’s why I advise you to take some time to rest. It’s equally as important as training.
Study the runic symbols in case you need them when you go Outside—and remember what I’ve said about visualizing them in your mind.
As for Siad Nahar, only a few are ever able to see it.
There’s something mysterious about the place.
Some say it calls to certain individuals. ”
I sigh. “What if I’m not one of those certain individuals?”
“Then you’ll figure it out. You’re an intelligent young woman.”
“Thank you, Oksana,” I say with a smile. “For everything.”
Rising, I follow the pathway toward our house. Everyone is busy at this time of the day, and a few people cross my path. After the training session, I just need a moment to breathe before meeting with Chiyo—everything feels more overwhelming than it should.
For hours yesterday, I pored over the book from Dayfyd.
It’s filled with songs and stories about the moon and dream deities, and it speaks of the symbolism of dreams. Death doesn’t always mean death, and life doesn’t always mean life.
It’s all open for interpretation. The problem is that, as Dayfyd said, it’s geared toward Oracles, not toward Basduunai who dreamwalk and face very concrete, very real circumstances in dreams. Mine aren’t generally symbolic …
except perhaps that one dream in which I met Winnie.
I still have no answers for that.
But today, Chiyo arranged for us to meet with Ava at midday while Tiernan trains with various elemental Wielders. As much as I hate to miss him strengthening his Mimic powers, it’s important to show Ava that I can be proactive and that I don’t need anyone coddling me.
In the afternoon, as scheduled, I don’t even get to knock on the O’Haras’ door before it swings open. Ava leans against the doorframe, looking me up and down. Beside me, Chiyo seems to tense, but color rises subtly in her cheeks. I force my focus back to Ava.
“Sorry to bother you,” I automatically say.
Ava’s eyes roll. “I agreed to meet with you. Don’t apologize for unnecessary shit.” She turns and heads inside. Beside me, Chiyo’s face contorts. With a sigh, she holds her arm out, gesturing for me to enter before her.
Ava moves through the sitting room, past the kitchen, and toward a small study.
A large map is plastered against the wall, topographical elements drawn in muted reds and greens, location names labeled with copper engraving, and various route lines in black ink.
It’s a rather impressive map of not just Erleya, but our neighboring countries: Caldeon, Ardall, and Uldarvik. Where Carys is.
“Alright, what did you want to meet with me about?” Ava asks as she leans against the massive desk and crosses one ankle over the other.
“I’d like to go in search of Siad Nahar,” I sign.
“You’d like to?” Her brows cinch together.
“I need to,” I say with far less confidence than I’d like. “I know it sounds unwise given that there are people out there who want to kill me, but we need answers to the prophecy. It could help us figure out how to handle the Zenith as well, since they’re also trying to follow it.”
Ava stands upright and walks around the desk.
She rummages somewhere behind it and clears a space in the center to roll out a large, yellowed parchment.
The edges try to curl in, but Chiyo plucks two daggers from somewhere on her person and lays them flat on either side of the map to anchor it to the desk.
It closely resembles the map on the wall, but it’s more detailed and focuses solely on Erleya.
“We are here,” Ava signs before pointing to a swampy area across the northern coast of Erleya.
“Carys said that Siad Nahar is all the way to the northeast,” I tell her.
Ava moves her finger to the east where bogland abruptly ends, replaced by forest. There’s a winding river nestled between forests and mountains near the coast. A winding river that looks like a serpent. “This region is unlabeled,” Ava motions. “Do you think …?”
There’s a strange certainty that comes over me as I stare at the winding river. I gently trace it with the tip of my finger. There seems to be nothing around it but forests and mountains. “I think so,” I reply. I look at Ava again whose lips are twisted in thought.
Chiyo’s eyes go wide. “Does that mean we can go straight through the Verge and right into Siad Nahar?” she signs.
Frowning, Ava shakes her head firmly. “The bogland at the edge of the Verge is … let’s say, poisonous.
There is no land—only water, and it’s essentially acid and cannot be touched by magic.
Myth has it that it was a protective measure erected by the gods.
If you believe that kind of thing. But I suppose if it’s right at the edge of Siad Nahar, perhaps there’s something to it. ”
A chill trickles down the back of my neck. I squint at the map, trying to follow the path from the Verge. “We’ll have to go through the mountains, it looks like?” My eyes flick up to Ava.
“Correct,” she says. “Through Diadun, and that may be the only village we cross. The rest is wildlands, it seems.”
Another chill cuts through me.
“I haven’t called a meeting for this yet, but we’ve gotten more information from Aine. The fanatic. The Zenith seems to be working with Mages. While the Purists want you and your sister dearest dead, the Zenith wants you alive. In fact, they need you alive.”
My gut roils aggressively. I press my hand to my stomach, swallowing back the nausea. Ava doesn’t speak for a while, her lips pressed together, her hands against the desk.
“What are you thinking, Durvla?” she finally asks.
I don’t respond. Living in the Grounds with an ailment and the inability to hear the dangers around me was so difficult. Hiding Taig only added to my vulnerability. I never cared to fight for justice. Not when I had to cower beneath the injustice to simply stay alive.
But now with Carys off the throne, and the kingdom and all its inhabitants in danger, if I can do even the smallest thing to help, it would be worth the risk.
Ava slams her hand against the desk, disturbing the map. “Speak up!”
I blink at her and draw in a breath. “I spent my whole life hiding,” I tell her. I tug back the sleeve of my tunic to show her my branding scar. “And it got me this.”
Faint surprise flickers on her face.
“I buried my head in the sand and minded my business. I protected Taig from the world, and he still ended up in danger, and I still ended up being arrested. Hiding here in the Verge feels pointless when there’s something that I may be able to do.
It’s terrifying. I’m terrified, for sure, but I’d be terrified just sitting here waiting for the world to end as well.
” I tug my sleeve back down. “I have a connection to Carys. That has to be important. She’s the one who’s supposed to be on the throne.
If we can get her back there—even if it takes learning all we can about the prophecy—then I’m willing to do it. ”
Ava nods, clearly sobered. Chiyo gives my shoulder an encouraging squeeze.
“What will we need for this mission, then?” Ava asks.
Suddenly unsure of how to respond, my hands falter. I rub them on my skirt before signing, “Preserved food, fresh clothing, hygiene supplies, and a group of rebels willing to help. But not too many that it’ll draw attention.”
If I’m not mistaken, that’s a mildly impressed look on Ava’s face. A poorly hidden smile twitches on Chiyo’s lips.
“Specifically, what do you need of these rebels? Any particular skill sets?”
“I …”
“Stop hesitating,” Ava berates.
“We’ll need a Healer!” I blurt. “A powerful one who can handle an entire group and … well, me.” It takes a lot of effort not to fidget. “I can travel with tinctures, but they only last so long and are only so strong. Your mother would—”
Ava’s eyeroll cuts me off. “No,” she signs firmly. “There’s another Healer. Wain. He’s the one who’s been working on her recovery. In addition to his Mage healing, he’s a Waterweaver.”
I lick my lips and stand straighter. “But Alys knows how to keep my symptoms best handled, and she’s a stronger Healer than Wain.”
An angry muscle twitches in Ava’s cheek before she makes a go on with it gesture. “Healer aside, what else?”
“Fighters. They don’t have to be Mages, but Mages would be helpful in a small group.”
Ava pulls out another parchment and slaps it down on the desk, grabbing a quill and inkwell.
She sits, quietly scribbling for a while before putting her supplies away.
When she stands again, she hands me the parchment.
It lists names and related skills. “I believe Sloan and Isobel in particular will be great for your mission.”
My mission.
She plucks the daggers off the map and hands them to Chiyo. I focus on Ava’s lips as she rolls the map back up.
“Sloan is level-headed, and Isobel has been waiting for a mission—plus she’s an incredible fighter, loyal, and brave. As you know—you’ve sparred with her after all—they’re both Galemakers. Chiyo, do you—”
“Hells yes!” Chiyo says.
Ava nods firmly, though something I can’t quite figure out sparks in her eyes. “So, Durvla, you also have an incredibly strong weapon master.”
Now Chiyo’s face goes bright red as she tries and fails to hold back a smile.
Ava continues as if she hasn’t noticed. “I’m sure your lover won’t let his precious partner out of his sight. And then you have me. Leader and Obstructor.”
Obstructor?
I’m certain Chiyo echoes the words, but Ava doesn’t explain. She holds the map out to me. “Keep this,” she says. “Study it. Let’s aim to leave in one week. Get all the information you can find. And get your ass in better shape.”
“Thank you,” I say. She sits down behind the desk and makes a shooing motion with her hands.
As soon as we step out of the office, Chiyo dissolves into a fit of giggles. “For what it’s worth, you have a great ass,” she says.
I press my hand over my mouth to cover my laughter as we put some distance between us and the office.
“Looks like we have a quest,” Chiyo says. “And you’re the key player.”
She drapes one arm around my shoulders and squeezes. For a petite young woman, gods is she strong.
Key player. One week. There’s a lot of work to be done.