“Dathiel disabled all of us. There was nothing you could have done.”
“I know,” Sarina whispered. “That’s what bothers me.”
Her mind flashed back to the telepathic link she had shared with Jason just before their confrontation with Dathiel. It had unquestionably been the most powerful experience of her life, and at the time it had also soothed her latent anxiety about Jason’s transformation and her own dwindling ability to remain a part of that world. But then Dathiel had casually flicked her aside like an annoying insect…
Taking in another deep breath, she hopped to her feet despite her caretaker’s protestations. She was dizzy at first, but after a few minutes—and another surge of restorative magic from Sel—Sarina felt more or less normal.
“The others are above deck,” Selvhara said. “I’m certain they will be pleased to see that you’re awake.”
Sarina nodded distantly as she grabbed the clean tunic and pants next to her bedroll. “All of this still feels like a weird dream.”
“That should pass in time. I just hope you still have your sea legs from your time in Ikara.”
“So do I,” Sarina murmured as she slipped the brown tunic over her head. The gentle swaying of the boat hadn’t gotten to her just yet, but she had never been particularly fond of sea travel. “Does this ship have a crew?”
“Just us. We decided it would be safer to purchase and sail our own ship. Gor even fronted most of the gold.”
“Now this definitely feels like a dream. I dread to think what he’ll expect in return.”
Sarina finished getting dressed before gingerly making her way up the stairs onto the main deck. The rest of the crew noticed her immediately. Jason and Tam hopped down from the upper deck, while Gor glanced up to her from his personal cubby beneath the mast.
“You rejoin us at last. I was starting to fear we’d have to feed you to the sharks.”
“Nice to see you, too,” Sarina murmured. She cocked an eyebrow at the collection of shiny baubles he had laid out across a blanket. “Having fun with your toys?”
“They are not toys,” Gor said pointedly. “They are valuable possessions, just like the ship you are now standing on.”
Tam snorted. “I just assumed he was planning on starting his own merchant fleet when we finally reach Galvia. He can sell shiny trinkets for a while, at least until the Crell capture him and toss him back in chains.”
The chagari’s orange eyes narrowed. “Careful, little human, lest I feed you to the sharks instead. At least the ka’chek here is capable of actual conversation.”
“I think that means he’s happy to see you,” Jason murmured, stepping in close enough to squeeze Sarina’s arm. “How are you feeling?”
“Well enough,” Sarina told him, squeezing back.
“I’m glad you’re awake. For a while there, we were all worried.”
“I just wish I had been more useful during the actual fight,” she whispered. “I barely remember anything.”
“Jace and I had it under control,” Tam said with a smirk. “I mean, we were only fighting a demigod. How threatening could he be?”
Sarina rolled her eyes. “You’re looking better, by the way. Whatever that whore gave you must have gone away.”
Tam’s smirk transformed into a grimace. “It wasn’t a disease, and she wasn’t a whore. She was…”
“A demon,” Jason said, tugging gently on Sarina’s elbow. “Come up to the front of the ship and I’ll tell you all about it.”
He escorted her far enough away from the others to get some privacy, then told her everything that had happened—his battle with Dathiel, his cleansing of Tam’s corruption, and then their eventual flight from Bal’Aqui. By the time he finished, she felt like she had been unconscious for a week rather than a few days.
“I admit I never really expected the Eye to work like the legends claimed,” she whispered, “but I also never expected to run into a god.”
“He wasn’t a god,” Jason said. “He was like me…whatever that is. He called us the ‘True Ascendants,’ which I guess is probably the most accurate term. We’re the ones with actual Immortals inside us.”
“Well, we can call him whatever we want, but if he’s working with the Order of Orias…” Sarina shrugged. “I don’t know much about him, but they strike me as the persistent type. If they want you badly enough, they’ll come after you again.”
He nodded. “I know. But right now we have bigger problems to worry about.” He gestured towards the distant shoreline off their starboard bow. “We made it out of the Gulf of Zunlai without any problems, but we’re still a long way from home. Even with Sel blasting wind into the sails, it will take us weeks to reach Galvia. I’m tempted to dock at Velashel Harbor and make our way on foot.”
Sarina blinked. “You want to ride straight through the heart of the Imperium? Are you crazy?”
“My father is still in Galvia,” Jason murmured, his jaw muscles visibly tightening beneath his cheeks. “We need to get there as quickly as possible.”
“You really think your father would be so brazen as to openly try and recruit an army to liberate Ashenfel?”
“Openly? No. My father never does anything openly if he can help it. But the Watchers have operatives all across Torisa, and there have been several reports of demonic attacks in Ashenfel.”
Sarina resisted the urge to remind him that she had suggested they go back to Galvia in the first place. Ethan Moore had always been obsessed with driving the Crell from his homeland, and there was no other logical place for him to be. But now that she had touched his mind, she knew that the Eye of the Pah was only part of the reason Jason had wanted to travel to Talisham. He had also wanted to flee Solaria before he could get sucked into another war. He had wanted to run as far away from his past as he could before it finally caught up with him. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
“Before we set off, I had a chance to…chat…with some of the imperial soldiers in Bal’Aqui,” Jason added into the silence. “I was able to glean some useful intelligence.”
“I thought you’d decided not to probe into anyone’s mind without permission,” Sarina said.
“I decided to make an exception, considering that half of us were injured and you were unconscious. The Crell have been pushing so hard into southern Solaria that they’ve virtually abandoned Galvia. Nearly all of their forces in the north have withdrawn to Ashenfel.”
“Which means you father will be doing everything possible to weaken their defenses in preparation for a Solarian attack,” she reasoned. “Assuming the Solarians are going to attack. Did the Crell soldiers have any news about the state of the war?”
“Yes, though I almost wish I hadn’t heard it,” Jason said gravely. “The imperium already occupies almost a quarter of Solaria, and they’re threatening the forts outside of Celenest. At this rate, the Alliance will crumble by the end of summer, if not before.”
Sarina closed her eyes and swore under her breath. The news could have been exaggerated, of course, given that Jason had plucked it from the minds of Crell soldiers. The local Imperators had a vested interest in keeping morale high, which meant that any reports they received from the Sovereigns would have been fed to the rank-and-file grunts in the most positive light.
Regardless of the spin, however, there was no doubt in her mind that the Alliance was in trouble. Queen Krystia had been fighting an uphill battle from the very beginning. She wasn’t aware of a single nation in all of history that had survived the assassination of their reigning Ascendant. Sarina still felt guilty about not being there to help, as irrational as the thought was—one Asgardian huntress wasn’t going to miraculously turn the tide.
“A part of me wishes we’d been there too,” Jason whispered. “Even though I’m not sure what we could have done to make a difference.”
She turned and glowered at the side of his face. “Are you in my head now?”
“No, but I don’t need to read your thoughts t
o know what you’re thinking,” he said, squeezing her hand and smiling tightly. “This whole trip was a mistake. We wasted all this time halfway across the continent, and we have nothing to show for it.”
Sarina glanced back over her shoulder to Gor. The chagari was still sitting on the deck rifling through his bags full of shiny baubles. Tam was chatting with him, though Gor didn’t seem to be paying much attention.
“Gor bought some nice souvenirs and you went one-on-one with a god,” she said. “That has to be worth something.”
Jason grunted but didn’t smile. “I can’t stand the idea of my father being out there. I can’t stand the idea of more innocent people suffering because of his petty quest for vengeance.” He sighed and swallowed heavily. “But now I’m starting to wonder if I’m just doing the same thing. He wants vengeance on the Crell, and I want vengeance on him.”
“I don’t think it’s quite that simple,” Sarina soothed. “Your father is a monster, and he needs to be stopped.”
“The Crell are monsters, and they need to be stopped,” Jason countered. “What’s the difference?”
“Your father has murdered dozens, maybe even hundreds of people. He got every one of his old friends killed, including your mother. And of course there’s the little problem that he’s actively summoning demons to help him…”
Jason’s cheek twitched. “I almost got all of my friends killed on this foolish quest, and I’m attracting the attention of gods instead of demons.”
Sarina sighed and pulled her hand away. “Look, if you want to sit here and feel sorry for yourself, I’m not the one you should be talking to. Sel is the kind and pleasant one, remember?”
“Maybe, but you’re the one who tells the truth,” he said, pivoting around to face her. “You’re the one who doesn’t coddle or pull punches. So I want you to tell me what you really think.”
“All right, fine: what I think is that worrying about this is about as pointless as me worrying about not having a place in this group. If I’m not allowed to sit around moping, then neither are you.”
Jason chuckled, but his smile quickly faded. “My father’s rage has destroyed the lives of many people, but especially the women who loved him. My mother is dead, and Sel…” He glanced behind him to the druid as she hovered near the sails and conjured a steady wind to keep up their speed. “She’s not the same person she used to be. She was exiled from Sorthaal for fighting in a human war, and now she’s stuck following me around out of some misplaced sense of duty.”
Sarina followed his eye and put a hand on his arm. “She loves you like the son she never had. I don’t think that affection is misplaced.”
“Maybe not, but I see the sadness in her eyes whenever she thinks of her people. She’s not human, and Torsia will never be her home.”
“Maybe not,” Sarina said, placing a hand on his arm. “But we are her family. Maybe that’s enough.”
Jason’s smile returned. “You know, for a barbarian, you can be pretty clever sometimes.”
“Took you long enough to notice,” she said, smiling back. “I’m still not sure we should risk traveling by land across the Imperium, though. Gor alone will make us walking targets.”
“We can always pretend he’s our slave. Though I don’t relish the prospect of proposing that idea to him…”
“They’ll also be looking for you,” she pointed out. “We can’t avoid their patrols forever.”
“You’re probably right,” he conceded. “I’m not sure how much time we’d save anyway. If we cut through the Strait of Kai’Hathi in Numen, we can shave several days off our trip.”
“It’s definitely the safer choice,” Sarina said. “And you know us. We always like to play it safe.”
“Yeah,” Jason said, grunting and shifting his eyes out to the horizon. “That describes us perfectly.”
***
Four days after limping into Amberwood, Elade finally felt like herself again. The Solarian priests had healed her wounds and purged the Crell toxins from her system almost the instant she had arrived, but the nausea and pain hadn’t really faded until the next day. Even once she had recovered physically, however, she hadn’t felt complete until the warm, reassuring tingle of the Aether flowed through her body once more.
Just like with so many things in life, Elade hadn’t appreciated just how much she depended on her channeling abilities until she had lost them. The Aether was more than just a conjured shield or healing spell; for over a hundred years now it had been her constant companion, her tether to an entirely different realm of perspective and sensation. She had never been much of a telepath, but she still possessed the ability to sense the collective presence of the conscious minds surrounding her, especially inside a bustling city. Losing that sense had been like suddenly going deaf, and even after her powers had returned she’d felt as if someone had clapped their hands over her ears. Everything had been muted and distant, and she’d spent the last two nights meditating atop one of the fort’s old, empty towers in an effort to re-center herself. Both the shadow knights and the Last Dawn had taught her numerous focusing techniques, and eventually her efforts paid off—the mental haze cleared away, and she was herself again.
A warrior. An Unbound. A Knight of the Last Dawn. A woman whose mere presence was a threat to everyone in Amberwood.
Elade grit her teeth as she spiraled down the stairs of the central command tower and into the private quarters Darius had graciously provided for her. Night had fallen several hours ago, and midnight was fast approaching. Aside from the night watchmen, most of the soldiers were now asleep…which meant that now was the perfect time for her to make a discreet exit.
Shutting the door behind her, she retrieved her armor off the rack and began to suit up. The Solarians had been kind enough to polish off the dirt and blood, and even though their local blacksmiths were hardly up to Last Dawn standards, they’d still been able to repair most of the battle damage. All things considered, the suit was as clean and supple as it had been in months. At this point slipping into the familiar light scale mesh was like wrapping herself in a blanket; the weight on her shoulders was warm and comforting. She didn’t just feel naked without it—she felt like an entirely different person.
Then came her sword. She hadn’t allowed the weapon out of her sight long enough for the Solarians to touch it, but she had spent several hours polishing the hilt and pommel on her own. Just like her armor, the Dawn-forged steel required relatively little maintenance. The edge and tip were nearly as sharp as when Tevek had first forged the blade four years ago, and when she held it up in front of her she could see her luminous blue eyes reflecting in the silvery metal.
The blade of a paladin is a symbol as much as a weapon, he had told her. Never draw it unless you intend to use it, and never use it unless you are prepared to deal with the consequences.
At the time, Elade had found his advice painfully naïve…and all these years later, a part of her still did. But even still, she would have given just about anything to hear Tevek’s voice speak those words to her one last time.
With a final sigh, Elade sheathed the weapon and slipped out of the room. The lower levels of the tower were mostly empty at this hour, and the guards she passed didn’t bother her. Mercifully, Darius himself had barely spoken with her after their last aborted encounter. Whether that was because he was busy or because he respected her desire for solitude didn’t really matter; either way, she’d been afforded the space she needed. And now it would be that much easier for her to slip away without being noticed.
Three separate bridges spanned the river bisecting Amberwood into a lower and upper city, and Elade maneuvered through the streets towards the easternmost one. Patrols were sparse at this time of night, and she waited until the trio of wandering guardsmen meandered across the bridge before crossing it herself. With the help of the Aether, she wouldn’t need to draw undue attention by leaving through the main gate—she could shadow-walk up onto the battlements, then shado
w-walk back down into the refugee courtyard on the other side—
“The guards are under strict orders not to allow anyone to leave the fort,” a familiar voice called out from behind her. “All the gates are locked down tight.”
Elade stopped in her tracks and bit down on her lip so hard she tasted blood. “I don’t need to open the gate.”
“There are suppression crystals on the wall every few hundred feet or so. That teleportation trick of yours won’t work unless your range is a lot longer than I think it is.”
“I’m sure there’s a weak point somewhere.”
“Maybe. The question is why you want to find it so badly. I thought paladins considered sneaking around through the darkness…unseemly.”
“I’m not a paladin,” Elade whispered. “Not anymore.”
“Highlord Alric might not think so, but that doesn’t change what you are. You’re a Knight of the Last Dawn, and the people in this fort desperately need your help.”
Elade’s body heaved from another deep sigh, and after a few more seconds she finally summoned the courage to turn around. Looking into Darius’s eyes again was every bit as difficult as she had feared. “I can’t stay here.”
“Of course you can,” he said, stepping out from the shadows. “I’m the High General of the Solarian Legion, in case you’ve forgotten. One of the perks of the job is being able to choose who is and isn’t welcome inside my forts.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I really don’t,” Darius said, taking a step closer. “Do you see any of Alric’s goons lurking around? He recalled every single paladin in Solaria. There’s no one here to take you back.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point? All I know is that you’ve spent the last couple months slinking behind enemy lines like some kind of assassin. Don’t get me wrong: we all appreciate you taking out as many Crell Breakers as you can. But there’s no reason you have to be alone out there.”
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