Seeking Sorrow (Guardians of Terath Book 1)

by Zen DiPietro

  “Really? After all the outdoorsing we’ve done in the past weeks, you’re ready for more?”

  He leaned into the windowsill, admiring what lay beyond it. “Sure. It’s an entirely unexperienced environment. The weather is warmer than normal Apex conditions, but cooler than the mid-lats. The sky is overcast and dull, yet the plants and trees are hardy and mature.”

  He watched her as she paced the tight confines of the room. “What made you think of doing it?”

  She lifted one shoulder, then let it drop. “I had to drain all of Meli’s mana before I could still her. The mana had to go somewhere. I thought, what better than to take something malevolent and create life with it? Those trees and plants are so hopped up on mana they’ll survive for a hundred years or more without needing a single thing from their environment.”

  “Very poetic, transforming a destructive force into fruitful vitality.”

  Again, she shrugged. She didn’t want any compliments for her actions.

  He tried another tack. “Maybe we can come back here sometime, do some research on how the environment is faring.”

  “You’d want to come back to the fortress?”

  Three steps brought him to the center of the room, where he folded himself into the larger of the two chairs. He beckoned her over but she shook her head and resumed a slow circuit around the room. Rebuffed but unperturbed, he reclined against the chair back.

  “Sure, I’d come back” he answered. “The bad stuff is gone. You’ve transformed the place, giving it a new start. What’s more romantic than redemption and a fresh beginning?” Arc slanted her a pointed look.

  “I wouldn’t have thought to call it romantic.” She smirked, in spite of herself.

  He beckoned her again and this time she complied. It seemed only fair, since he’d managed to lighten her mood. He wrapped his arm around her, then tugged her down to the chair with him. He settled them comfortably together, fitting together like a two-piece puzzle.

  “Just imagine a little music. Something delicious cooking in the kitchen—I can do that, you know. You haven’t seen what I can do in a kitchen. I’ve got all the gadgets. I could kit this place out.” He rested a finger on his jaw in thoughtful contemplation. “Maybe some flowers. Are you susceptible to floral wooing?”

  Her surprised laughter bounced around the stone walls. “Wooing? Who says wooing?”

  He pretended to take offense. “Why, I do. It’s quite the thing these days. You just don’t know it because you spend all your time locked up in an empty closet chanting to yourself, or hitting yourself with a stick, or whatever it is you shivs do in your keep all day.” He made a scoffing sound and she laughed again.

  “But you didn’t answer and I need to know: Does the gift of flowers make your shivvy little heart go pitter-pat?”

  Shivvy? That wasn’t even a word. “I can’t imagine my heart getting . . . pittery-patty . . . over flowers. But no one’s ever sent me any. Certainly not for wooing purposes. If you want to know for sure, you’ll have to try it and see.”

  “Perhaps I won’t, now that you’re expecting it. Might lose its impact.”

  “I see. My loss, then.”

  She let herself float along in the bubble of contentment he created around her. Preparations to leave Apex had already begun, and she didn’t know how much longer she’d have the luxury of his company. Moments ago she’d been eager to leave the fortress but now she found regret in the idea of separating from Arc. That led her to wonder about their relationship after they resumed their regular lives. Her life and his were quite different.

  “Relax,” he admonished.

  She waited for him to say more but he didn’t. She tried to follow his advice, letting out a slow breath and finding her center. She knew better than most that there was no point in wishing for what could not be.

  A longish lock of dark hair curling around his ear drew her attention. She smoothed it out and wrapped it around her index finger. She sensed indulgence and curiosity from him and wondered if it was a result of their bond or if she had simply begun to know him.

  “I love your hair,” she admitted.

  “My hair?”

  Finally she’d managed to push him just slightly off balance. She found she liked being the one, for once, to be unpredictable and surprising.

  “Maybe not just your hair.” Her gaze tangled with his, and they both grinned like idiots.

  “Oh. Pardon me.” Luc’s sternness might have had them springing apart, but Kassimeigh had no reason to be embarrassed. She slid over and sat next to Arc on the wide seat cushion, which just barely accommodated them both. Luc harrumphed and sat in the rigid, straight-backed chair across from them.

  “I need to talk with Kassimeigh.”

  “No problem. I’ll make myself scarce. Should finish packing my gear anyway.”

  Just before he left the room, Arc rested his hand on the doorway and called back to Luc, “Don’t go pissing her off, though, she’d just started to relax.” With a wave, he sauntered out.

  “Pissing you off!” Luc exclaimed.

  The combination of the words coming from Luc’s mouth and his offended scowl made Kassimeigh snort, then dissolve into a deep belly laugh.

  Luc looked increasingly provoked, until her laughter caught his attention. His forehead smoothed and he succumbed to a chuckle of his own.

  “That one,” he smirked, hitching his chin toward the doorway, then shaking his head.

  “Yep.” Kassimeigh both knew exactly what he meant. Arc’s humor and breeziness both delighted and baffled her.

  “I wanted to talk to you about what comes next.”

  “I thought we’d already decided our destinations. Has something changed?”

  “No, I mean once all of this aftermath is wrapped up and it’s time to step back into your life. I know you have your life as a shiv and a justice, but I want you to consider also life as a manahi.”

  “I’m not sure the choice is mine. No shiv has ever been a mana-holder. Once again, I’m making history and forcing the elders to make a decision about my future.”

  Luc rubbed his chin. “However the elders decide, you do need to continue your mana training. You’ve made astounding progress in control and ability, but with your magnitude of talent comes the burden of mastering it.”

  She felt her muscles tense. “Have I not proven I can handle the mana I hold? Confronting Meli, who had an ability as strong as my own, must be the most momentous test anyone could take. I managed to control my own ability and extinguish hers.”

  “Yes, good job. I mean that. But although I trust you not to lay waste to towns or destroy yourself, there’s still a great deal of learning you have not yet had the chance to experience. I can’t force you to it, of course. Frankly, with your ability, I doubt anyone can force you into anything. Trust me, though, when I say you still need training, and it will deeply benefit you. It might benefit all of Terath. You offer something unique to this world, and wouldn’t it be tragic for you to dismiss the possibilities before we can even identify them?”

  “I do trust you, Luc, as well as your judgment. When it comes to using mana and becoming a manahi, there’s no one I trust more.” For the first time, she considered formal mana study at the institute. “I have to admit I don’t enjoy the idea of becoming a student again. I’d prefer to resume my life, which has become a complicated prospect even without considering the ramifications of becoming an acolyte manahi.”

  Humor twinkled in his eyes, reminding her of how charismatic the man could be. She still hadn’t gotten a handle on his mercurial moods.

  “Dear Kassimeigh, you exceed the majority of learned manahi on this planet already. You might feel like an acolyte at the beginning, but the word fails entirely at describing you.”

  That begged a ne
w question. She couldn’t resist asking it. “What’s the right word, then?”

  He shook his head, rue warring with humor. “No single word suffices. I can tell you I’ve discussed it with the other six manahi here and they all volunteered for the honor of developing a curriculum for you.” He shook his head again. “I’ll say no more, for now. Before I go, I want to discuss the stilling with you.”

  She shifted. Her soft, oatmeal-colored shoka felt suddenly rough and rasping against her skin. “It’s the last thing I want to talk about, but there’s no avoiding it.”

  “Right. Stilling has been attempted numerous times over the centuries, but it’s always proven fatal. No one managed to still the subject without also killing him or her. Blanketing is hard enough, but stilling is something else. It’s like brain surgery on a fetus using a machete.”

  She recoiled at the analogy. She didn’t want to remember what it had felt like.

  “You’ve succeeded where no one else ever has, and I’m sorry. We all felt it happen, but I’m sure what we experienced was nothing compared to what it was like for you.”

  “Yes.” Her voice was too small for her chest. “It felt like dying while transcending the death. I can’t imagine how it felt to Meli.”

  “Have you talked to Izzy about it?”

  “No.” With all that had happened, she hadn’t considered that Izzy might know exactly how Meli had felt when she was stilled. “She’s spent all of her time with Meli since it happened, and she hasn’t sent me any messages. I haven’t wanted to interrupt. I’m not sure I’m ready to see Meli yet, anyway.”

  Luc surprised her by putting a hand on her knee. She tried to remember if he’d ever touched her before and couldn’t recall.

  “You did her a mercy, Justice. You released her from the demon in her mind. She now has a chance to find a life. It’s all because of you, and you did it at an obvious cost to yourself.”

  She bowed her head. “I know you’re right. I just need time to reconcile my heart and my head.”

  His lips twitched. “Your heart has been underutilized for a while now. The fact that you’re giving it a good workout these days is something we can count as a win all by itself.” He stood. “Don’t worry,” he assured briskly. “You’ll put it all together long before we begin your new study curriculum.”

  He strode out of the room before she could correct his assumed “when” to an “if.” She had no doubt he’d planned it that way.

  “I raised an army. I led the army. We rode into battle, came out the victors, and stopped a threat to the entire populace. So why am I stirring gravy?” Will was utterly perplexed by the recent turn of events.

  Justin glanced up mid-knead, up to his elbows in bread dough. “Because three hundred people eat a lot of food, man. And it’s almost time for dinner.”

  “Sure, but there are three hundred people. Why did I get tapped as scullery maid?”

  Defining himself thus raised Azure’s opinion of Will Azrith a notch or two. He was an able commander, a formidable blade, and apparently lacked any macho ego to go along with it.

  “Because you were too polite to say no when we asked.” She floated a pepper grinder his way with a deft touch of mana. “Add some of that.”

  He did so, with a small frown between his eyebrows. She smashed her amusement down beneath a mild facade.

  “I take it you’re not an old hand in the kitchen?” Justin appeared to enjoy seeing his commander in a more relaxed role as much as Azure did.

  “Not at all. I’ve never done much actual cooking. I usually eat what’s simple and fresh or visit a restaurant. Cooking always seemed like the long way around when I had other things to do.”

  “All the more reason to learn.” Azure leaned in to taste the gravy with a spoon. “Not bad. I think that’ll do. Now, you can help me slice apples.”

  “At least it involves a blade, albeit a tiny one. Perhaps I won’t shame myself.”

  Since he laughed, Azure and Justin joined him.

  “Maybe when we’re done in Apex, your next assignment can be in a kitchen, slicing and chopping,” Azure suggested.

  “I have some business with the Council, and we’ll see what happens afterward. I may indeed need to send some resumes out to kitchens in the mid-lats. What about you? What will you do when you get home?”

  Azure waved a wooden spoon. “I’m a doctor. I spend most of my time in one hospital or another. Being away from it for this long has actually been the closest to a vacation I’ve had in years.”

  Justin blinked at her. “Huh. How did I not know you’re a doctor, after all the times we’ve cooked together here?”

  “Never came up, I guess. Here, we’re disconnected from our real lives, like we stepped out of them and into an alternate reality for a while. We’ve chased a villain, fought monsters, and lived in harsh conditions. Now our work here’s done and we’ll go back into our regular realities. We’ll enjoy all the benefits of modern technology and a good climate. All of this can fade away into the category of ‘something that once happened.’”

  “Interesting way to think of it,” Will remarked.

  “I dabble in philosophy.”

  “Really?” Justin asked.

  “No. Not really.” Azure chuckled. But he’d almost believed it.

  The general’s apple-chopping proved to be top-notch. He was fast, efficient, and made uniform cuts. Azure mentally granted him another half-notch of respect. He might become decent in the kitchen, if he ever tried again after today.

  “What about you?” she asked Justin. “Where do you go, once all of this is behind us?”

  “Maybe I’ll get a job at a bakery. As long as I don’t have to get up before sunrise.”

  “That leaves you.” Azure eyed Will. “Once you check in with the Council, what’s next for you?”

  “Looking for a more permanent position, I guess you’d say. One that doesn’t happen inside a kitchen. Might take some time to work it out, though.”

  “What to do while you wait? What do you do for fun?”

  Will’s knife froze in mid-chop. “Fun?” He uttered the word like it was a child’s made-up nonsense.

  “You have heard of it, right?”

  “Once. Maybe twice.” He resumed chopping, but with a slower, more ponderous cadence. “It’s a good question, actually. I should consider some recreation while I’m waiting to see what happens next.”

  Since her hands held food, she gave him a pat on the back with a bit of mana. His head yanked up, and the steady thwack of the knife stalled.

  “Do you do that a lot? Float things across the room, close doors without touching them, pat people on the back without your hands?”

  Her hands also paused in mid-slice. “I don’t even think about it. I work with people so accustomed to mana use that it fits seamlessly into my life. I guess you’re not used to it?”

  “No, I’ve never spent extended time amongst manahi. I’ll have to work at getting used to things like invisible backslaps.”

  “It was a pat, not a slap. But speaking of assault, how is the battalion faring now that all of the wounds have been patched up?” Azure finished slicing her last apple and switched her attention to dishes, electing to stack them into the sink by hand. She wished the kitchen had a dishwashing unit.

  “Thanks for your help doing the patching, by the way. I’d say the battalion is satisfied. After all of the false starts, they finally got their chance at what they signed up for. I was impressed with how well the troops worked together.”

  “Your relentless drills and training exercises no doubt had a big impact in that arena,” noted Justin. “Not that I minded the work. I learned a great deal.”

  “Oh, so you’re repaying the battle skills with culinary skills.” Will grinned with amusement at th
e idea.

  Azure found herself staring dumbly at Will’s broad smile. She’d traveled with him for weeks but didn’t think she’d ever seen him truly smile. The effect was fantastic, and she found herself marveling that the man was one dark, gorgeous package. On reflection, she decided it was good he’d kept his smile in hibernation, or he wouldn’t have been able to walk through camp without people throwing themselves at his feet.

  Will glanced up and noticed her stare. “What? Am I doing it wrong?” He frowned at his potentially misbehaving apples.

  She stood next to him and examined the fruit with perhaps more thoroughness than was necessary. “They’ll do. Do you know how to scrub pots?”

  “Oh, no way. I’m still commander of this outfit, and I’m pulling rank. When you’re ready for cleanup, I’ll send you a detachment of dedicated pot scrubbers.”

  “I like a man with authority.” Azure laughed to show she was joking. Which she was. But, actually, she really did like a man with authority. Just as long as he didn’t try to exercise any authority over her.

  Izzy slipped down a back hallway to sneak into the kitchen, but her covert mission failed when she came face-to-face with Will.

  “Oh. Hi. I expected everyone to be in the commons by now.”

  Will wiped his hands on a towel. Maybe he should be bothered by being found doing kitchen work, but he wasn’t. All jobs that needed done were worth doing, in his opinion. He wasn’t above any of the battalion’s needs.