by Sarah Hawke
“For your sake, Julian, I suggest you stop speaking with this ‘priestess’ immediately,” Commander Deswick said once the room had emptied. “I trust I make myself clear.”
“I heard every word you said,” Cassel murmured. “But that doesn’t mean you’re right. We are throwing away our only chance to save this city and its people, and for what? Pride? Tradition?”
“Faith,” Deswick said, standing. His face bore the scars of a hundred battles, and his eyes glimmered with the wisdom of a hundred more. A few months ago, Cassel would have said that Deswick was the finest officer in the whole damn Order. But now…
“Faith will not save us,” Cassel said. “But this girl can.”
Deswick drew in a deep breath. “A few years ago I warned the Highlord that our new recruits weren’t pious enough. Lessons on the virtues of piety had slowly been replaced by more combat training, and lessons in the virtues of faith had been replaced by drinks and whores. Now the gods are finally punishing us for our many transgressions.”
“What if the gods have nothing to do with this?” Cassel asked. “What if our enemy has simply found a weakness she can exploit?”
Deswick stared at him for a long moment. “You’re lucky I know that you are a good man, Julian. I could easily have you tossed in the dungeon for sacrilege.”
“Sir—”
“Not. Another. Word. The decision has been made, and the judgment of this conclave is final. Do you understand?”
Cassel swallowed heavily as a thousand protests formed in his mind then died unspoken on his lips. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. I will not tolerate any further insubordination. If I hear another whisper about this Eternal harlot, I will hold you personally responsible.” The older man’s face hardened. “Do yourself a favor, son—stuff her back in whatever gutter you found her in and pray to Escar for forgiveness.”
Deswick scowled at him for another minute before he turned and strode out of the room with the rest of the officers. Cassel was tempted to shatter the whole bloody table with his fist, but then the familiar twinge of the Wasting Echo began gnawing away at his muscles. If he didn’t get back to Tahira soon, it would overwhelm and cripple him just like the rest of his comrades.
Grimacing, he stormed out of the room and through the temple. He did his best to ignore the judgmental glares from the other knights, and soon he was back out on the streets of Highwind. The Guard was out in full-force at all hours of the day now, even in the wealthier parts of the city. Everyone was so nervous about the growing army outside the walls that looting had become an almost existential crisis. And as more and more people learned that the Knights of the Silver Fist had lost their powers, the situation would only get worse.
That’s why you have to do something. That’s why you have to figure out a way to make them see reason.
Cassel sighed as he strode across the street towards the small inn where he had put up Tahira. He could have kept her inside his quarters at the temple, of course, but given the reputation of the Eternal Priestesses he had wanted to keep her as far away from the other knights as possible. And now, weeks later, he didn’t regret that decision in the slightest.
The tavern downstairs was busier than normal at this time of day, mostly because a lot people had decided that getting drunk was the best way to handle the current crisis, but Cassel had no trouble maneuvering past the crowd and up to the large suite on the western side of the building. Tahira was sitting in a chair reading when he stomped inside and tossed his gauntlets onto the floor.
“They did not listen,” she reasoned, her soft face creased in concern.
“At this point, I think they would rather die,” Cassel said, tugging at the straps on his armor. “And they’re going to get their wish.”
He closed his eyes and took a few long, slow breaths just like his instructors had taught him back his early days at the temple. It didn’t work—he was still seething by the time he unstrapped his breastplate and tossed it on the floor. The worsening pangs of the Wasting Echo weren’t making things easier. He had gotten here just in time.
“I am so sorry,” Tahira said. He didn’t even hear her move across the room, but the instant her fingers touched his flesh he seized up and gasped. The Aether surged through him like a warm, soothing current, and he clasped his hands over hers and held them close.
“Gods,” Cassel breathed as his eyes slowly fluttered open. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that…”
Tahira’s smile was equal parts sweet and sad, and he couldn’t help but reach out and touch her cheek. He still couldn’t believe he was willingly standing here next to an Eternal Priestess. He had been warned about the “red-haired sirens of the mountains” a hundred times over the past few years, but the only thing Tahira shared in common with the rumors was her appearance.
Cassel cleared his throat and removed his hand. “I don’t think there’s any point in trying to convince them again,” he said. “The officers have made up their minds, but the squires and the younger knights won’t listen to them forever. Lasille was right about one thing: it’s only a matter of time before the Echo drives dozens upon dozens of knights into the arms of the Inquisitrix.”
Tahira slowly dragged her hands from his chest to his shoulder blades. When her fingers began kneading his muscles, he almost melted into a pile of goo.
“Is there anything else we can do?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Serrane is probably still arguing with the Council, but I doubt she’ll convince them to agree on anything either. It seems like everyone just wants to sit back and wait for the inevitable.”
Cassel closed his eyes and allowed her to massage the tension from his muscles. She was really quite good at this; he had spent so much time with her these past few days she’d had plenty of opportunity to demonstrate her talents. After her explosion of power at Hastien’s Fall, she had learned how to maintain her mysterious Aetheric connection to him for several hours at a time. He still couldn’t afford to be away from her much longer than that, though it wasn’t as if he would have left her side regardless. More than anything else, he had to ensure her safety. He didn’t claim to understand the nature of her abilities, but if she really was a “Conduit” like Lasille had suggested…
Well, it meant that Tahira may have been the most important person in this whole damn city. And the more people realized that, the more danger she would be in.
“I wish we knew more about what was going on,” Cassel whispered. “Half the knights think you’re some kind of demon tempting them with power, and the other half think you’re a false prophet of some evil god.”
Tahira’s fingers squeezed his shoulders one last time before she pivoted around in front of him. “What do you think?”
“I don’t think you’re a demon, and I know you haven’t tried to convert me,” he said. “You’ve barely spoken about your religion the whole time we’ve been here.”
She glanced away, and Cassel immediately regretted even bringing it up. The Senosi Huntresses had slaughtered the rest of her coven right in front of her, and she was clearly suffering from a severe case of survivor’s guilt. He didn’t blame her in the slightest. The fact that she had been spared was nothing short of a miracle.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, brushing his hand through her long red hair. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s all right,” Tahira assured him with a forced but pleasant smile. “The truth is…I still don’t know what to believe. I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know who to trust—except you.”
She looked upon him with such child-like innocence it almost broke his heart. He had seen this reaction before, of course. Paladins were often showered with the joy and gratitude of those they rescued, and every once in a while one of these would-be victims became overly attached to their “savior.” The number of young peasant girls who had thrown themselves at him over the years was truly staggering. Cassel had usually demonstrated enough g
ood sense to keep them at arm’s length, but many of his comrades hadn’t been so disciplined.
He took Tahira’s hand and gently squeezed her fingers. “Once Serrane gets back, we’ll have to try and figure out what to do. Honestly, I’m half-tempted to get you out of the city. I don’t know how much longer it will be safe for you here.”
“But then what will happen to the other knights?”
Cassel pursed his lips. He didn’t have an answer for that; he didn’t have an answer for much of anything at this point. The only thing he knew for certain was that one of these days the Inquisitrix and her armies were going to attack, and he intended to be up on the battlements alongside Serrane when it finally happened. The odds that Highwind would survive were slim, and the odds that he and Serrane would survive were even slimmer.
But Tahira didn’t need to die with them. This wasn’t her home. This wasn’t her fight.
“Whatever happens, I will not leave your side,” she said when he didn’t answer. “The Goddess must have had a reason for blessing me with these powers.”
Cassel smiled down at her. A part of him wanted to treat her like a child—she was young, impressionable, and thoroughly confused—but she was also far more resilient than she appeared. She had proven her ability to cope with the unexpected over and over again this past month, and she had saved his life back at Hastien’s Fall. She deserved his respect, not his pity.
“I wish we had more time,” Cassel told her. “If the mages still had their power, they might have been able to tell us what this ‘Conduit’ stuff is all about. If not, their library surely has something we could use. It has the greatest collection of arcane lore in the region.”
Tahira placed her hand upon his cheek, and once again a wave of power crashed over him. He could actually feel the Aetheric currents surging between their bodies whenever she made physical contact with him. It was as extraordinary as it was terrifying.
It was also intoxicating as hell. Her touch was like lotus vapor, and he couldn’t stay away for long. His knees buckled, his eyes fluttered, and before he knew what was happening he felt her stretch up on her tiptoes and place her lips against his. She kissed him softly, sweetly, as if she were afraid he might break…
And then she abruptly pulled away and shook her head.
“I apologize,” Tahira said. “I…I do not know what came over me.”
Cassel took a deep breath in a vain effort to ground himself. His mouth was still tingling; he could feel the echo of her lips like a static discharge prickling the hairs on his arms. And when his eyes fluttered open, he was completely entranced by the face staring up at him. The stories about the Eternal Priestess’s had been right about one thing: she really was starkly beautiful, from her flawless pale skin to her sparkling green eyes.
“You’ve nothing to be sorry about,” he said, swallowing and clearing his throat. “I’ve never been upset about kissing a gorgeous woman before, and I don’t intend to start now.”
Tahira smiled up at him, and she leaned in close enough that their bodies were barely an inch apart. It would have been so unbelievably easy to wrap his arms around her and pull her close, but Cassel had resisted that particular urge about a thousand times over the past week. Not because he wasn’t interested—his cock was already hard and pressing uncomfortably against his armor—but because he desperately wanted to stay focused on the task at hand. He needed to keep a clear head, now more than ever.
And of course, there were also the stories about what had happened to Sir Dravis after a night with a coven of Eternal Priestesses…
Cassel was just about to give in and kiss her again anyway when someone knocked at their door. He immediately spun around and placed his hand upon his sword. Serrane was almost certainly still with the Council, but he had no idea who else that could be…
“Captain Cassel?” a woman’s voice came from the other side. “It’s Dame Laurent. If you’re in there…I was really hoping we could talk.”
Cassel blinked in surprise. He recognized Laurent’s voice, and she sounded genuinely shaken. He couldn’t imagine that Deswick would have sent her of all people to arrest Tahira…
Bracing himself for the worst, Cassel shooed his companion into one of the side rooms so she could remain out of sight. He kept his palm on his blade as he shuffled up to the door and cracked it open. Laurent was standing in the hall outside, alone and trembling as if she were sick.
“Adrianna?” he breathed. “What in the bloody hell are you doing here?”
“I…I followed you after the meeting, sir,” Laurent said, glancing warily back and forth down the hall. “After what you said…I wanted a chance to speak with you in private away from the officers.”
Cassel bit down on his lower lip. Serrane would have scolded him for allowing himself to be followed, and with good cause. But apparently the pangs of the Echo had been distracting him more than he had realized.
“Is anyone else with you?” he asked.
“N-no, sir,” Laurent insisted. “I am sorry for doing this, but I don’t know where else to go. I’m…I’m dying.”
Grimacing, Cassel poked his own head into the corridor. He didn’t see anyone, but someone would notice the two of them chatting eventually. “Come on,” he said, beckoning her inside and closing the door behind her.
“Thank you, sir,” Laurent said, taking in the suite in a single glance. She clutched at her own arms as if she were freezing beneath her armor.
“The Echo is getting worse,” Cassel said.
Laurent nodded. “The officers keep saying that’s a test from Escar, and that we simply need to learn how to endure the pain until we have proven ourselves. At first, I believed them…but it has been over two weeks now. I can’t sleep, I can barely eat…”
Cassel nodded gravely. He didn’t know Adrianna Laurent all that well personally, but she was well-liked among the Order even though she had only been promoted about a year ago. Many of the local squires in particular looked up to her, and if her will was starting to crumble…
“Suffice to say, I don’t believe this is a test from Escar,” Cassel said, “and if the officers won’t accept the truth soon, the Order is doomed.”
Laurent swallowed heavily. “I think most of us know that, even the veterans. But they’re too scared to speak out. They just keep praying and praying that something will change…”
Cassel sighed and nodded. “I honestly believed I could get through to them, but that’s obviously not going to happen. I’m starting to think it might not even be safe for me to return to the temple.”
“I wouldn’t, if I were you. Commander Deswick and the others…they’re unstable. I think this ‘Echo’ is affecting them more than they realize.”
“They have been connected to the Aether longer than anyone else in the Order. It should be hitting them the hardest.”
Laurent nodded slowly. “Is it true, sir? Can this priestess really help us?”
“Yes.”
Cassel glanced up as Tahira emerged from the side room, her forehead creased with concern. The two women locked eyes, and a hundred different emotions flickered across Laurent’s face.
“Gods, she really is an Eternal Priestess,” the knight breathed. “Escar’s mercy…”
“It’s a long and crazy story, and I’m not going to pretend I completely understand what’s going on,” Cassel admitted. “But the bottom line is that Tahira here can cure the Echo and restore our powers…at least for a little while.”
Tahira took a step closer and extended her right hand. At first, Laurent actually recoiled; the officer’s fear-mongering was obviously still lurking in the back of her mind. But she wouldn’t have come here if she weren’t desperate, and the pain of the Echo eventually compelled her to reach out and take the other woman’s hand.
Having experienced the sudden flood of power himself many times now, Cassel wasn’t the least bit surprised when Laurent’s body instantly seized up. Her eyes fluttered back into her head, and
a long, breathless gasp escaped her lips. Tahira squeezed the other woman’s fingers, and for a moment Cassel swore the priestess’s eyes began to glow just like back in Hastien’s Fall…
“By the gods,” Laurent gasped. Her free hand opened, and a shimmering ball of magical light slowly materialized in her palm. “The Aether…I can feel it again.”
After another moment Tahira stepped away, and when Cassel tossed her a concerned glance she nodded to assure him she was all right. Until now, she hadn’t actually restored anyone else’s powers—none of the other knights had given her the chance. Thankfully it seemed to have worked just as well as they had hoped…at least for now.
“It’s unbelievable,” Laurent whispered. “How is this possible?”
“I wish we knew,” Cassel said, watching in awe as the color slowly returned to the woman’s face. As amazing as it was to feel the Echo being washed away, seeing the transition in someone else was every bit as stunning.
Laurent eventually turned back to Tahira. “I…I don’t even know what to say. Thank you!”
“I only wish I could do more,” the priestess replied soberly. “Unfortunately, the connection will not last long. Within a few hours, the Echo will return.”
The knight’s throat visibly tightened. “But you can restore it again?”
“Yes, but only with physical contact. I do not know why…I am every bit as confused by this as you are.”
“The point is that she could save the Order right now,” Cassel said. “With her help, we could quickly rebuild and even take the offensive before the rest of the Inquisitrix’s forces arrive.”
Laurent nodded absently as she glanced down at the magical ball of light floating in her hand. Cassel had wanted to demonstrate Tahira’s power ever since he’d arrived, but bringing her in front of the officers had seemed too risky. Perhaps he had been too overprotective of her; perhaps if he had been more forceful he could have already convinced the others.
Or perhaps what he had needed all along was someone young like Dame Laurent to get the younger, less stubborn knights on his side…