“Because I also know you, and I know what you want most in the world.”
“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”
“Redemption. If you did this, Azeril, it would be a sacrifice, yes. But it would also redeem you from your sins.”
I stand there, taking that in. I do want redemption—he’s right about that, at least—even if I’ve killed only wizards, only people who deserved it.
But I liked killing them. I’m a murderer and a monster. I was never who Leora thought I was, but maybe I could be. If it’s possible for a monster to be redeemed. For sinners to be made innocent again.
“If you don’t do this,” Hadrin goes on, “a lot of people are going to get hurt. A lot of them will die.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No. Stay away from my daughter or I’ll send you back to the chair. That’s a threat. This? This is the truth. A war will have many casualties on both sides, and a lot of innocents will die in the middle of it. I know what you think of us, and why you should think that. But whatever the High Priest is planning, it’s an evil that will destroy us all. Wizards and the Church alike.”
“I’m his apprentice, you know. You refused to help me when I needed it, and now I’m his Fire-forsaken apprentice. Where were you and your hope of getting my memories back then? Or are you planning to hurt me again? Because that was a onetime offer.”
A grim smile tugs on his mouth. “I’m not as cruel as you think I am.”
“You’re right—today you proved you’re worse than that. You’ve taken everything from me. Even the girl I love.” And the one perfect moment I was going to have with her. “If I got my memories back, it would change me. How could it not? So you’re here asking me to sacrifice who I am, and for what? For you?”
“No,” he says. “Not for me. For all the people who are going to get hurt if you don’t. And, most importantly, for yourself. Because I think we both know that you’re more than just a killer.”
“I’m a monster. And what I’ve done can’t be erased.”
“I know, but I have to believe that even a monster can find redemption. It’s the only way I can fall asleep at night and get up in the morning, knowing what I’ve done. And in a way, my sins are worse than yours. You were made to be this way. It wasn’t your choice. But I’m the one who made you.”
“You know I can’t join the wizards. No matter what you say.”
“And you know I can’t let you be with my daughter. I suppose that makes us even.”
“No. It doesn’t.” And I don’t need his permission to be with Leora. Just hers.
He turns to leave, his gaze lingering on the blood on my mouth. “If you change your mind about what I’m asking you—if you need me for anything—I’ll be in town another week or so. You know where to find me.”
He leaves, with no idea that his words echoed the High Priest’s, the man he wants me to help defeat. The two of them are more similar than he realizes, though that isn’t exactly a surprise. After all, none of us is innocent. We’re all monsters here.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Fire-Gifting Ceremony takes place two days later, honoring everyone in Ashbury who got their ability from the Fire this year. That’s everyone, not just those of us who are with the Church or going to the school. Their families show up, too. It’s such a huge event that it doesn’t take place only inside the church, but across the grounds, spreading from the churchyard over to the school. It feels like the whole world is here. Like this is the most important event that will ever happen, and I’m not a part of it.
Except that all of the acolytes have to be present during the formal ceremony, which takes place inside the church. The Fathers and Mothers call out the names of everyone the Fire deemed worthy this year and hand them a lighted candle. Those of us not being honored in the ceremony have to stand to the side of the altar. On the right side are all the acolytes who got their gifts in previous years. And to the left are those of us still waiting.
The girls stand separate from the boys, making my group even smaller. Last year there were five of us on this side, including me and Rathe and Bran. Now they’re both being honored, and it’s just me and Tol, who’s only ten, and Karl, who’s twelve. Making me stand out as the oldest. And even in the girls’ group, there are only four of them, and all of them younger than me.
None of them are murderers condemned by the Fire. None of them are a wizard’s experiment, an abomination. None of them have wizard spells lurking in the depths of their memories. Any of those is reason enough for the Fire to ignore me, to leave me standing off to the side while everyone I know moves on.
My feet hurt from standing here for so long. I shift uncomfortably, aware of some of the other acolytes staring at me from across the aisle. At the gold star now pinned to my collar, marking me as the High Priest’s apprentice, something he formally announced yesterday morning. Letton in particular sneers at me, like he can’t figure out how I got the job.
You don’t want to know.
The worst part of the ceremony isn’t the standing there for two hours—the time it takes for them to call out over a hundred names and hand out just as many candles—though I can’t say I enjoy it. And it’s not seeing Rathe or any of the other acolytes going through a rite of passage I’m pretty certain I’ll never be a part of. In fact, Rathe even grins at me as he takes his candle from Father Moors and uses his ability—the power to shape wax at the touch of his hand—to form it into an apple and then pretends to take a bite out of it. He gets a quick smile out of me that’s gone again a moment later.
The worst part of the ceremony is when Leora walks down the aisle. Instead of her school uniform, she’s wearing a purple dress with matching flowers in her hair. Because this is a special occasion. I watch her as she moves down the faded red carpet and then stands with the Fathers and Mothers. My eyes are on her the whole time, when they call her name and when they light a candle and hand it to her, signifying the Fire giving her its gift. And not once does she ever look over at me. She knows I’m here and where I’m standing—the same place as last year—but she never even glances my way. I’m her best friend, or at least I was, and now she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.
There’s a big celebration after the ceremony’s finally over, out on the grounds. There’s a band playing and some tables set out, covered in fruit and roasted meats. It’s dark by now, and there’s a big bonfire in the middle of everything. I hear bursts of laughter in the dark, the sounds of people enjoying themselves. Eating, drinking, dancing.
I stand there in the churchyard, watching for a moment, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alone in my life. Not since Father Moors found me standing over those dead wizards, the knife bloody in my hand. But that was different. He took me in. And back then I didn’t know what I was missing.
My hand twitches, wanting to reach for the knife. But I don’t let myself. Not in front of all these people, even if they’re not looking. Even if I feel like I’m invisible.
I didn’t get a power from the Fire. And I don’t have a family waiting to greet me. I thought Leora was my family now, but if that was true, she wouldn’t have stopped talking to me, or having anything to do with me, now that she knows what I am. And there’s no way Hadrin would come here for this, so I know she’s alone tonight, too. And still she doesn’t come and find me.
My duties for the night are over, and I’m free to do whatever I want, but all I want to do is go back to my room. Maybe I’ll feel less alone, without all these people around to remind me of what I don’t have. Or with the knife’s fire to make me not care.
I hesitate, searching the crowd one more time for her before giving up. Then I turn to go.
“Hey, Az!” Rathe calls. He’s out of breath as he comes running toward me. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Bed.”
He rolls his eyes at me and grabs my arm, not letting me leave. “Don’t give me that. This is a party. You should be having fun
.”
“No, you should. I’m not part of this and you know it.”
“Why? Because you haven’t gotten your ability yet? Maybe the Fire doesn’t think you’re ready because you act like a pile of wet leaves every time something goes wrong.”
“I’m not . . . A pile of wet leaves?” That doesn’t really sound like me, does it?
Rathe nods. “Everyone gets a power sooner or later. Well, except wizards. You just have to be patient, right?”
“Sure.” Not at all. “But I didn’t get it this year. I don’t belong, and I . . . Can’t I just go to my room?”
“And sulk? What kind of a friend would I be if I let you do that? Look, I don’t know what happened between you and her—and yes, I know something happened, everyone does—but just because you finally got together and things didn’t work out doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself. And if you seriously insist on sulking in your room all night, then I’m going with you.”
“But you’re actually part of this.”
He shrugs. “Not if you aren’t.”
“And you think I’m going to let you do that? Give all this up to hang out with me?”
“Or you can come with me and join in the party. Either way, I’m not letting you go off alone.”
“You would do that for me?”
“You remember last year? When I sprained my ankle and was so slow on those crutches, but you walked to candle service with me every morning, even though we were always late? You got written up for it, but you kept doing it anyway. Everybody else passed me by, but you made sure I didn’t get left behind. You remember that, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“And the time the girls stole all my robes in the night, so I couldn’t leave my room? You were the one who loaned me yours until I got them back.”
“They were dirty,” I remind him. “And it wasn’t a big deal.”
“It was to me. And this is a big deal to you.” He gestures to the festival going on without us. “And I’m not leaving you behind. So, what do you say? Let’s go eat one of everything and maybe find the girls and put ice chips down their backs.”
“You know, there’s a reason they stole all your clothes.”
He grins. “I’m not hearing a no.”
“Fine,” I say, grinning back at him. “We’ll make the rounds. And then . . .”
“And then if you want to sulk in your room, we can do that, too. But for now, let’s go have some fun.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Forget her,” High Priest Endeil says, adjusting a painting on the wall in his temporary office. It’s an image of a volcanic crack in the earth, of bright magma filling in the darkness, representing the Fire conquering the Chasm. The primal force of warmth and life triumphing over violence and death. “I can practically hear your heart breaking with every dramatic sigh. So, whatever she’s done to you—”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Ah, but my new apprentice has been moping around here for days. That makes it my business. And I know how you feel about her—don’t forget, I’ve seen inside your head.” He holds up a hand, wriggling his fingers.
As if I could ever forget. I turn away. It’s been five days now since I last spoke to Leora. And it’s not because I care about Hadrin’s wishes. She’s been avoiding me. First there was the Fire-Gifting Ceremony, where she completely ignored me. And the last few days she’s been looking into my eyes in class like she wants to say something important, and then running from me the second we have a chance to talk.
I wish I could talk to her about Hadrin’s offer. About me joining the wizards to fight the Church. She’d think it’s as crazy as I do. But even if Leora was talking to me, I couldn’t ask her. Because admitting I’m not sure I made the right choice, that I really do want redemption for all my sins, means owning up to all the things I don’t want her to know about me.
Hadrin believes in redemption. Or he wants to, at least. I’m not sure if I can.
“You gave up everything for her,” Endeil goes on, interrupting my thoughts, “and now look how she treats you.” He steps back from the painting, eyeing it to see if it’s level. “I’m telling you, you’re better off without her. You’re my apprentice now. You’re going places. You don’t have time to be”—he pauses, struggling to think of the word—“wasting your talents.”
“Do you need me for anything today or not?”
“You must be dying to use that obsidian of yours. A skill like that, and you have so few chances to make use of it, especially now that the wizards are suspicious of us.” He pauses to admire his handiwork with the painting and dusts his hands off, then whirls around to face me. “You’ll be pleased to know that you’ll be using it today.”
I’m anything but pleased. And I’m not dying to use it, because I’ve been using it plenty. Holding on to it every chance I get, even if I’m not killing anyone. Its fire is the only thing that can drown out my thoughts. About her. About Hadrin.
But even though I’ve been getting my obsidian fix every night, still my fingers twitch just thinking about it. About all the things I wish I could block out forever.
I force my hand away from the knife, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
But it’s clear from the smile twisting his mouth that he already noticed me reaching for it. “There’s a reason you know how to use obsidian. A very interesting reason. Would you like to know what it is? I saw it, you know. When I—”
“No.” I never need to know anything that happened in my past again.
“It seems our guest is here anyway.”
Rathe knocks on the half-open door and pokes his head in. “I’m— Oh, hey, Az. Are you here for this, too?”
I glance from him to Endeil, a sense of unease sliding over me. “Here for what?”
“Azeril’s going to be assisting me with this . . . experiment,” High Priest Endeil says, hesitating on the last word. He must know what a loaded word it’s become for me. He must know what I am.
Even if I don’t.
“Please,” Endeil says, offering Rathe a chair. “Sit down.”
He does. He seems perfectly calm, like he has no idea what he’s getting himself into. I don’t, either, but it can’t be anything good. I crouch down next to him while Endeil’s back is turned.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I whisper.
“Don’t be jealous, Az. I know how you feel about not getting your ability, but think what this will mean.”
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ll get yours, too. You’re his apprentice. I’m just the test subject.”
“But what does that—”
“Now,” Endeil says, clapping his hands together and interrupting our conversation—one I’m sure he could hear, despite our whispering—“let’s get started with the procedure. It won’t take long, though it might pinch. Just a bit. Get comfortable there, Rathe, while I speak to my apprentice.” He slings his arm around my shoulders and steers me toward the hall, stepping just outside of the door.
I shrug him off. “Whatever’s going on in there, whatever he thinks is going on, I’m not—”
“Oh, but you are. You agreed to be my apprentice, remember? And everything that entails. Or have you forgotten your promise so quickly? And you’re going to like this. I saw it in a dream.” He lights a fire in his palm and stares into it, as if he’s reliving the dream right now. “I’ve been having so many dreams lately, since I looked into your mind. Since I stared into the darkness and was touched by a higher power. I told you we’re going to change the world, Azeril, and it starts with a gift for your friend in there and a gift for you.”
“I don’t need anything from you. Neither does Rathe.”
“Don’t you?” He tilts his head, the flames in his hand turning a sickly shade of green. “I saw inside your head. I know exactly what you need.” He reaches up and touches his hand to my temple before I can step away.
Th
e flames burn inside my brain, just for an instant, and then my hand is on the knife. My blood blazes white hot, fighting against him, but it’s not enough to drown out his fire.
He moves his hand away, leaving an image burned into my mind. Him with his hands pressed to either side of Rathe’s head. Me, stabbing the knife into Rathe’s palm. Loving that moment as the knife touches flesh, watching Rathe gasp in pain as blood wells up on his skin and drips onto the floor.
I let go of the knife. I think about what Hadrin said, about stopping Endeil. About me being the only one who can.
“It will feel good,” Endeil says, “to have someone else in the chair for a change. To be the one causing his pain. Won’t it?”
I look away, but I can’t bring myself to deny it. “He’s my friend. I’m not going to do that.”
“He’s here by choice. As I said, this is a gift for both of you. He will have compensation, and it will be worth it to him. Trust me on that. I saw this in my dream. I saw what I can give to people and how you can help them. It starts here, with one volunteer, and with one apprentice in desperate need of healing.”
Whatever we’re about to do, it doesn’t sound like healing. “And if I refuse?”
He laughs and picks a speck of dirt out from under his fingernail. “You won’t. You already made your choice, back in the chapel, when you were on your knees and said you would do anything. But if you want to play that game, let me remind you that I know where to find her.”
“If you ever touch Leora again—”
“The last time I touched her, I believe I healed her of those terrible wounds. But for the record, I wasn’t planning to have any physical contact with her. I was thinking she ought to know about some of the awful things I’ve seen in your head. Things that you’ve done that I suspect you haven’t told her and that you would never want her to know.”
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