“You loved him, didn’t you? The Gallows Boy.”
“He was… my friend,” Tori said. My only family. More than family. Tori recalled their last night together, Darien’s lips on her forehead, falling asleep against his shoulder. It felt strange to think on it now—it had been so long ago, another lifetime—especially here at the Watchtower, with Ren.
So much had changed in the past year, the past few months really. Did Darien still think of her? No, of course not. He thinks I’m dead.
Ren’s eyebrows rose. “You are very reserved, Astoria.”
Her true name still felt strange to her. Her mum was the only person who’d called her Astoria. And yet her old name also felt truer than ever. As though Tori was some forgotten slave girl, and Astoria was the Watcher. She knew that was why she had used her true name before the chancellor, when she had thought she was about to die.
“I cannot force you to share your troubles with me,” said Ren. “But you should know, fear is a witch of a mistress. She takes and takes and never gives anything in return. The only way to deal with her is to send her away.”
Tori breathed deep, taking in the sharp air, paying attention as the cold filled her. She wanted to be the Watcher that people expected. She wanted to be powerful. To help lead this revolution. To free Darien and countless others from the chancellor’s tyranny.
Ren touched her shoulder softly, and Tori turned and met his gaze.
“Darien wasn’t just my friend,” she finally began. “He was… my whole world back in Osha…”
Tori opened up to Ren in a way she had opened up to no one since she’d been with Darien back in Scelero’s household. At first, it felt strange to voice everything that had been knotted up inside her mind, but as it all came unraveling, she began to feel comfortable, and things made more sense.
“When I saw you hanging from that gallows, it brought it all back. I failed Darien. I killed his rebellion. He hated the Legions, and I turned him into a soldier, a killer, just like the ones who killed his family.”
Ren thought for a moment. “Do you really think Darien blames you?”
Tori didn’t know. Darien was always the softer one, though, so perhaps he would understand. Perhaps he would forgive her.
“You saved his life. And you ignited a spark seen across the New World. Your friend strikes me as someone who longs for peace and justice. And even if he does resent what you did, this is bigger than him. You brought hope to lowborns across the empire. Just this morning, I received word of slave uprisings in Pendra and the Fringes.”
“And how many of those slaves died?” Tori asked, the familiar darkness creeping into her thoughts.
“That’s not the point, Astoria. Lowborns never fight back. In the history of Osha, there have never been uprisings of this magnitude. Will people die? Of course they will. But change will not happen any other way. You grew up in the midst of Osha’s oppression, and I know you long for freedom for other lowborns.”
Tori sighed. “I know you’re right, but… it’s a big burden to bear. To be a symbol for all this. I’m no one. I never asked for this. It just… happened.”
Ren clasped her hand, gently. His fingers were warm. “You know, a few years ago, all I wanted was a noble’s life in Maro’El. I longed for power, to serve on the High Council. I longed to expand my family’s influence, but it wasn’t until my house was undone that my priorities changed. Sometimes I feel like the Shadow Watch was thrust upon me. I’m no military man. I don’t know how to start a war.”
“Then why did you do it? Why did you start the Shadow Watch?”
“My family kept the old ways hidden for hundreds of years. We worshiped the old gods in secret, read ancient scrolls, but for our own preservation, we resisted the temptation to discover the gifts we possessed. We blended in. We vied for power. We were full of ourselves and our ambitions. But I realized that there was more than my own family’s preservation at stake. I realized that the corruption in Osha affected all my kind, that we had been murdered for centuries at the whims of rulers who thought we were a threat to their orderly system. And I couldn’t let the fear of what might happen hold me back. As a result of my pursuit of magic, I was forced to flee Maro’El, and my entire family was wiped out. It was a terrible tragedy. But it led us all here. It led to the Shadow Watch.”
“But how do you live with that?” said Tori. “The dark effects of your magic?”
“Not easily, I promise you,” said Ren.
Tori gave him a querulous look. “You make it look easy.”
Ren shook his head. “I’ve learned to guard my mind from those dark thoughts because… they would rule me if I let them. I know it was good to pursue magic, even if my family died as a result. And I know that all good things require sacrifice. You cannot let your regrets about failing to save a few people stop you from saving anyone else.”
Ren had not let go of her hand. He squeezed it tight. And Tori knew Ren was right. She did long for justice, and not just for the Watchers. For lowborns in Maro’El, the Fringes, all across the empire. Sorcerers were not the only ones who lived under the oppression of the chancellors. The world needed to change, and if Tori was some sort of catalyst for that change…
Tori smiled, a little sad as Ren let go of her hand. “All right. I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“I’m ready to face my fears. I’m ready… to be the Gallows Girl.”
Ren’s smile stretched wide, and Tori wanted to live in his blissful gaze forever. She was filled with warmth and hope for what was to come. She felt like she could do anything—fly, lead a rebellion, whatever.
“I don’t want to be a queen, though,” she added.
Ren’s brow curled with bemusement. “Who said anything about being a queen?”
Tori fought back a blush. “Never mind.”
When Tori finally left Ren’s chambers, the Sisters had risen high in the night sky. Although Sahra would be furious that he’d left his room, Ren insisted on walking Tori to her bedroom. Before she closed the door, Tori turned back and watched him walk away. Ren’s movements were feeble still, but he should have been dead.
She called back to him. “How did I do it, Ren?”
Ren smiled as he turned. “Perhaps you just couldn’t bear not to see my face again.”
Tori shook her head, but couldn’t hold back a slight smile in return.
“It’s only a theory,” he said, drawing near. Very near.
“Well, I wouldn’t put much stock in it.” Tori could feel each of his breaths on her neck. His own neck was still bruised from the noose, a dark line that looked like an incision in his skin. “I’m glad you’re alive, Ren Andovier.”
“Me too.” Ren laughed. His hand found hers again, and his touch sent shivers up her arms.
“When you first pushed me off that cliff, I thought you were insane, you know. When I saw you on that gallows, I knew you were insane. But… well, it worked, didn’t it?”
“You can call me a mad genius if you like.”
Tori shook her head. “Goodnight, Captain.” Without thinking, she kissed him on the cheek, then slipped away and quickly shut the bedroom door behind her, her heart thundering in her chest. She leaned back against the door and breathed. I shouldn’t have done that, she thought. That was stupid. He’s my captain, and you heard him. He’s not looking for a queen. And there are far more important things to worry about. Like how we are ever going to launch a rebellion against the chancellor!
The lamps were out, but Tori could still make out the form of Vashti turning over in her bed to face away. Even so, Tori couldn’t help smiling as she slid beneath her sheets.
The next afternoon, Ren took Tori aside during combat training. “If I spend another day in that bedroom, I’ll go mad,” Ren said. “I couldn’t convince Sahra to let me take you up the mountain for a few more days. So, we will have to try something different.”
He led her to a long and narrow hall lit by oil lamps. At
either end, there were tables spread with an assortment of throwing knives. He handed her a blade, and she tensed at what she guessed was to come.
“Throw it. Directly at my head.”
“Ren, you’re still healing. Maybe it’d be best if I—”
“Just throw it.”
Tori gripped the handle in her fingers.
“Hold it by the blade, loosely, like this.” Ren grabbed his own blade and showed her the technique.
Then he crossed to the end of the hall. He stood still and calm. His broad chest rose and fell in perfect rhythm, his shining eyes met hers, and he nodded.
Tori cocked her hand back and threw the blade with all her strength. It sailed high, a little too high, nearly hitting the ceiling, but just before it brushed the stone blocks, it arced and flew right at Ren. He reached out. Just as it was about to hit his face, it slowed slightly, and he caught it by the handle.
Tori huffed. “Don’t make it look so easy!”
“It is easy. It’s like breathing, Astoria. Vonn told me you were making progress in your Conjuri lessons.”
“Vonn was too generous with the word progress.”
“Or perhaps he believes in the Gallows Girl, just as I do.”
Ren pitched the blade she’d thrown on the ground. “My turn.” Ren chose a longer, larger blade. He made a show of stretching out his arms, giving her a moment to calm herself.
Tori concentrated, but she was trembling. Of course, she could always heal, but since the first plunge from Orran’s mountain, she had worried that, someday, it might not occur by instinct. She gritted her teeth, determined to show Ren what she was capable of.
“Relax,” said Ren. “You are a Conjuri! You manipulate the matter around you. You make it do what you bid it to do.”
Tori nodded and tried her best to relax. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, in and out, in and out, focusing her mind on her surroundings, letting herself become aware of the intricacies behind the world.
She opened her eyes, and immediately Ren let the blade fly.
He did not even throw it. It flew from his fingers with a flare of Conjuri power, shooting end over end, directly at Tori’s face. Her hand shot out in front of her instinctively. Better to heal a hand than an eye!
But midair, the blade seemed to slow, and Tori’s sense came to her like eyes spreading wide—a new world opening up. She could feel the vibration of each knife rotation on the air. She could sense the minuscule particles that composed the metal of the blade, all of them tumbling right at her face. Over and over they turned. And then, the rotations slowed. The blade met her grasping hand, as though it had been passed across the table. But it was the blade she caught, not the handle.
Pain shot up her arm, and Tori dropped the knife. “Shenzah!” The knife had sliced through the length of her palm. Blood spewed out for a moment, painting the stone floor, and then the wound closed over.
Ren came running over, howling with excitement. “Excellent! Excellent! Excellent!”
“I nearly cut off my hand!”
“Nearly! That’s the important word. That blade should have sheared your hand clean off. You summoned! You manipulated the world around you. The blade did your bidding. Remember that feeling, Astoria. Memorize every success. Play it over and over again in your mind before you fall asleep. Visualize yourself mastering your power. When the doubts and fears creep in, replace them with this memory. You have opened up the gates. Now, let the flood come pouring in. Vonn was right! You are making progress, indeed!”
Tori filled with pride at his praise, watching with wonder as her skin weaved itself back together. Now, if I can just focus my sense a little earlier, she thought, anxious for another chance.
Ren picked up the bloodied blade, wiped it on his trousers, and handed it to her healed hand. “Your turn.”
25
Over the next few days, Tori managed to land her first jump from Orran’s mountain without breaking any bones. She caught five knives in a row without injury. She managed to hover a foot off the ground during flight lessons, then flew several feet across the courtyard.
Her nightmares continued, but they held less sway over her mind. Tori faced her ghosts, and when they derided her abilities and poked at her fears, she told them to leave her. And the more she faced them, the more her magic swept over her, like a monsoon over the tidal walls of the Trium’vel. Every day Tori felt stronger and more in control of her gifts, and she craved a real opportunity to prove her abilities. She found herself longing for the revolution to begin. A week after flying across the courtyard, she flew the entire distance from her tower window to Ren’s balcony.
Ren beamed at her as she landed, and he pulled her close. It took her by surprise at first. She felt stiff in his arms, but she recovered and returned the embrace. His warmth filled her up, and suddenly, she felt short of breath.
The captain had not mentioned anything about her kiss on the cheek the previous week, and since that day, he had seemed more focused on her training than ever. And she had been relieved, in all honesty. Her emotions were a twisted mess, particularly toward Darien.
When she thought of Darien, she felt strange. She loved him, yes. She always would, but he was gone, only the gods knew where. And did I ever truly hope to wait for him? Did I ever truly want anything to happen between us?
It had always been something forbidden in Maro’El, and even entertaining the notion felt odd. One day, if he was alive, Tori hoped to free him from the Legions. But first, Ren’s revolution would have to overthrow the chancellor.
As her power grew, Tori’s contempt toward Cyrus Maro increased. She hated the chancellors and all they had done. They had eradicated her kind, hunted them down, and as if that were not bad enough, Cyrus Maro had harvested their blood.
The Watchers would return to the known world. Tori felt sure of it. And she would help Ren lead them. She and Ren. Somehow, it felt like something beyond her. Something the All Mother and the All Father might have orchestrated all along. How else could she explain the events of the past few months?
Tori had been trying to deny it ever since the night she kissed him. She had thrown herself into her training as hard as she could. It was silly to consider such things now, on the brink of a revolution. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to renounce her attraction to Ren, and her hope that he was attracted to her as well.
Her favorite parts of the day were their morning climbs up Orran’s mountain and evening lessons in the courtyard. The past couple months, Tori had grown physically stronger than she ever could have dreamed. She could climb the Staircase to the Clouds three times a day without feeling winded, and then make it back for the second leg of the morning “run.” Meanwhile, her Watcher abilities were coming more and more naturally every day. Through Ren’s belief in her, she was learning to believe in herself.
Ren did not take any credit for her progress, though without his persistence it would have been impossible. Ren was not making her what she was, he was helping her see the powerful Watcher she already was inside, helping her become more herself than she had ever been. And that was what attracted her most to him.
But the captain was difficult to read. Sometimes, Tori felt as though he might be warming to the connection they shared—times like now, after her successful flight—but other times, he felt like her captain and nothing more. His concern was always with what would make her a better Watcher. Their talk was always focused on her abilities and what was helping or hindering her progress. He did not share about himself. In a moment, he would pull away and become hard to read again.
Still, Tori had never seen Ren as excited as when she landed on his balcony after flying across the grounds of the Watchtower. Tori could feel Ren’s breath on her neck, and it sent shivers through her. She pulled away slowly, and his fingers traced the bare skin of her arm.
“We are getting close,” he said.
“Close?”
“To the revolution…” The enthusiasm waned fr
om Ren’s voice, and the shivers left Tori at once. The embrace was only his excitement, and nothing more. And now, he spoke what should have been exhilarating news with an air of reluctance. “The Watch is growing larger and stronger. You are getting more powerful every day. You will be ready to announce your survival to the New World soon. If only…” Ren leaned out from the balcony and gazed out at the valley. But his gaze was empty, as though seeing the world but not looking at any of it.
Tori touched his shoulder. “What’s wrong, Ren?”
Ren did not speak for some time. “I received news… news that the Great Soltayne is dead.”
“Vashti’s father?” she said with a slight fall in her voice. Why is he concerned with her father? Ren nodded wordlessly. “Have you told her?” Tori asked.
Ren looked up, puzzled. “Er, no. Gods, you’re right, I should speak with her. I hadn’t…”
“So, it’s something more than Vashti?”
Ren sighed. “We cannot accomplish this revolution alone. Before he died, the Great Soltayne was raising an army. He was going to ride to war against the chancellor while his Legions were weak from their war against Morgath. It would have been the perfect time to reveal ourselves to the New World. The perfect time to turn the nobles against their chancellor. The High Council of Osha is filled with unrest. The nobles are tired of Cyrus Maro. But with the Soltayne dead, that opportunity is lost.”
“Then perhaps now is not the opportunity the gods want you to take,” Tori said.
Ren did not seem to be listening. He continued on, consumed by his own thoughts. “I have not heard from Kale in weeks… not since he left for Vlyanii. It’s not like him to be gone so long. Something has gone wrong.”
“What is he looking for among the Yan Avii?”
“He and his partner, Kirra, have been searching for a very powerful weapon—one that they believe may be the key to our rise—called the godstones.”
“Godstones?” Tori had never heard of them.
“A mythical weapon from the Old World. According to lore, there were two sets. One belonging to the All Father, one to the All Mother. It’s been said the stones could wipe out entire cities with the right wielder. Legend says they did as much in the War Between the Worlds.”
The Shadow Watch Page 22