The Last Goddess

by C.E. Stalbaum

  ***

   

  It took Tiel and the others just over a day to emerge from the Highland Forest, which was almost twice as fast as their initial foray into it. The lack of mounts would eventually slow their return to Haven, unfortunately, but not having to mind the animals in the thick wood had definitely made this first stretch easier.

  The lack of supplies, however, did not. Tiel had managed to kill a morfel as they set up camp the second night, but the scrawny quadrupeds weren’t known for being particularly meaty.

  Still, he figured it would be plenty to get them back to Karpin, the village they had stopped at on their way here, and at least no one had been complaining about being hungry—not even Van.

  It was the focused behavior he had already come to expect from them. They were light-hearted most of the time, but when things turned serious, it was almost as if they transformed into different people. And he couldn’t imagine things being more serious than they were right now.

  Rook was gone and might have been dead, and even in the best case scenario the Balorites now had their hands on Edeh’s soul. The Kirshane vaults had been raided, and the ancient scrolls within had been taken. And worst of all, Master Bale and the others were almost assuredly dead, and Tiel himself hadn’t so much as lifted a finger to protect them.

  Now he was alone. Tiel Aranis, the last of the Kirshane…and he had never felt as lost or lonely in his entire life.

  The group stopped for a break when they crossed one of the many streams that eventually fed the Galadon River to the north. It was just after midday, and the others expected them to hit Karpin sometime tomorrow before bolting straight north for the Wall and Haven. He knew this would probably be the last break before they set up camp for the night, and he should have been taking the opportunity to get off his feet and drink some water. Instead he paced up and down along the stream, trying frantically to find a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that had fallen over his life.

  “You all right?” Rynne asked from behind him.

  He turned to face her. Despite the dirt on her face or the haggard state of her clothing, she still managed to look reasonably poised. He knew from his reflection in the stream that he did not.

  “No,” he whispered. “No, I’m not.”

  “Dumb question,” she said, squatting over the water and splashing it on her cheeks.

  “Most people who ask don’t actually care, but I know you do,” Tiel replied. “So it’s not dumb at all.”

  She smiled tiredly. “You’ll feel better once we hit Karpin and you can change and cleanup.”

  “How did you plan to pay for it? I thought all your things were back at the monastery.”

  “Rook has people who visit the town on a regular basis. Getting a few drakes on credit won’t be hard—easily enough for a bath, a bed, and a change of clothes. Probably some horses, too.”

  “Ah,” he murmured. “Too bad none of those will fix the problem.”

  “No,” Rynne admitted, standing. “But we’ll figure something out. We always do.”

  He released a long, slow breath. “I really hope he’s still alive.”

  “He is,” she said with more confidence than was reasonable. “Remember, they want what he has. They’ll at least get him back to Haven before…well, before doing anything to him. And we should be able to get their first.”

  Tiel nodded and lowered his eyes. “It’s my responsibility now.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “The Kirshal,” he said. “As long as her power endures, it’s my responsibility to protect it. As far as I know, I’m the only Kirshane left.”

  Her eyes softened and she wrapped her fingers in his. “They lied to you for years. Bale used you. Zandrast’s blood, they even attacked you. I don’t think you owe them that kind of loyalty.”

  “Individuals make mistakes, but that doesn’t make the cause any less just,” he told her. “The Kirshane have protected the Fane since the Sundering, and if this Veltar and his Balorites really have discovered the weaving techniques that caused the first one, then our purpose hasn’t changed.”

  “Well, I hope Sel—Tryss—was wrong about that part.” Rynne glanced back over her shoulder to the others. “She seems to remember everything else clear as day, though.”

  “At least our enemies won’t be expecting it.”

  “No one in the Republic will be expecting it,” she corrected. “She’s next in line for the throne, and everyone thought she was dead. I can’t even imagine the political tempest her return is going to cook up.”

  He nodded idly. Personally he still hadn’t gotten used to looking at her as a woman rather than the Kirshal, and now she was apparently a princess. It was enough to give him a headache. When she had first emerged from that coffin, he had known she was the one. Every fiber in his being had told him that the search was finally over, that after a millennium of darkness, the Restoration could finally begin.

  But Jehalai had eroded that certainty. Between Master Bale’s lies and Tryss’s secret identity, nothing seemed as clear to him as it had only a week before. His life was no longer a series of simple, black and white choices. Everything was gray, and it was so harrowing he didn’t understand how other people dealt with it. 

  “You know,” Rynne continued after a long moment, “there is an upside to all of this.”

  Tiel raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  “I assumed you’d be staying at the monastery once we were finished. Now you get to come with us.”

  He glanced back over his shoulder to the Highland Forest. Somewhere back there, the bodies of his brethren might have still been smoldering. Cut down because he had lead death straight to their doorstep…

  “Hey, that was meant to be a joke,” she said, placing her hands on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry. You’re right.”

  “Well, that’s…good, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted, looking down at her again. “I’d rather be here with you—with all of you. After what happened, I’m not sure I could have stayed there any longer.”

   “Maybe you’ve just outgrown them,” she suggested.

  “No,” he said darkly, pulling away from her. “What I’ve done is betray them. I chose to follow strangers instead of defend my own brothers and sisters.”

  “That’s hardly fair—”

  “It’s the truth,” he said flatly. “But you know what’s worse? If it happened again, I’d do exactly the same thing. And I’m not sure what kind of person that makes me.”

  He spun on a heel and walked back towards the others. He wanted desperately to be alone, but since that couldn’t happen, he at least didn’t want to be alone with her. He didn’t even want to look at her right now. All he saw in her eyes was his own weakness, and it made him sick.

  “We should head out soon,” he told Van once he moved within earshot. “Do you think there’s any chance we could hit Karpin by tonight if we pushed hard enough?”

  “Not without horses,” the bigger man said as he lifted himself to his feet. “And even then we’d probably have to kill them to make it.”

  “He’s right, though,” Tryss commented, standing with her hands at her waist as she stared out at the horizon. “If anyone’s tired, I mentioned before that I remembered a spell that can dull the pain. We could probably even push on through the night if we wanted to. You will sleep like a log when we finally reach a bed, though.”

   Van shook his head. “Not worth the risk. Way too many nasty critters out here I’d rather not deal with in the middle of the night.”

  “I can take care of them,” she assured him. “If we can give ourselves extra time in Haven to prepare, I think we should take the risk.”

  Van’s eyes flicked between them a few times before they finally settled on Rynne as she approached. “Fair enough. What do you think?”

  “Anything to get a real bed and a change of clothes,” she told
him. The tension in her voice was obvious; it lacked any of her normal levity.

  “All right, then,” Van said after a moment. “Do your thing, princess, and let’s get moving.”