Good, the cruelest voice in my head said. You don’t deserve comfort or peace.
A pause. Then she slipped past and sprang up on the bench, facing me, legs dangling.
“When I was young,” she said, “I was not the easiest child. I made up stories and talked to the spirits. I used fresken when I should not have. My eye even used to turn sideways sometimes, and people did not like to look at me. The other estate children, the girls especially, they tormented me. Little things, when we were small—tripping me behind corners, pushing me at the well—then more, as we got older. They knew I wanted to be a Speaker and they mocked me for it. They would cut my arms when I slept, or try to startle me when I carried hot water. And I grew up, but I carried it all still with me. For the longest time, I was…” She paused, looking distant. “Angry, yes, but mostly frightened. I swore no one would hurt me, and I took seriously the fighting games we used to play, so that I could protect myself. But I was so cold inside, Jovan. I was too frightened to let anybody close so they could not see how afraid I was of everything.
“And so I hid. I was cocky and brash, and quick to argue and fight, because I could use those things as a shield. I used the bruise inside me like that, giving it more relevance than it should have had. For a while, I let it be Hadrea. But it was not me.”
She took my hand. Hers felt warmer than mine, firm and callused, as beautiful as the finest musician’s or artist’s. “You are hiding behind so many things. Your honor and your duty, which stopped you wanting things for yourself. And your grief for your uncle and now for your sister. You are using them as shields to protect you. But that is making those things define who you are, when they are not. They are parts of you, but they are not you.”
I didn’t let go of her hand. It felt like a lifeline. But the first emotion that cracked through the stone was fear. “And what if I don’t know what else is there, when you take those things away?”
“Then we will find out.” Hadrea smiled, and something warm buzzed between us. “Together.”
Epilogue
Jovan
I woke in the middle of the night, disoriented, from my first dreamless sleep in months. I blinked, confused, and it took me at least ten breaths to realize the pounding sound hammering through my head was an actual sound, not merely a headache.
Beside me, curled against my back, Hadrea stirred. “What is that?”
I sat up. “The door, I think.”
Scrambling to find a robe, I made my way to the front door, Hadrea trailing behind me, muttering blearily. A thick fog of drowsiness surrounded me. Irritation at breaking the first real sleep I’d had in a long time made me snatch the door open with a scowl.
“Credo Jovan?”
I blinked, bleary. The fog didn’t lift. I didn’t know the man standing at my door, disheveled and alone. He was young, early twenties at most, with a broad, plain face and big hands, twisting around and around each other in front of his belly. One of his arms was heavily bandaged and he had a healing wound by his left ear. “Yes?”
“Are you…” He spotted Hadrea over my shoulder and stopped, chewing his lip. His eyes darted about, and he looked over his shoulder.
I scowled, impatience increasing my annoyance. “Yes?” I said again.
Hadrea sensed it before I did. “He is afraid, Jovan,” she said, a breath in my ear.
I looked at him, looked properly. She was right. Terror radiated from him. “What is it?” I asked, kindly this time.
“My name’s Garan,” he said, half in a whisper. “I’m … I was … a scout. In the army. I … I need you to come with me.” He looked at me, eyes wide. “Please?”
“Where?” When he didn’t answer, I folded my arms. “I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me more. What are you afraid of?”
He wrung his hands. “The Warrior-Guilder, Credo.” He laughed, an anxious trill. “Honor-down, I know how that sounds … a lowly soldier like me … but I’m not making it up. I think she’s going to try to kill me.”
Behind me, Hadrea had already found cloaks for us both and was throwing mine over my shoulders before I could even respond. “All right,” I said, following Garan out the door. “We’ll come. And you should know, the Warrior-Guilder’s in jail. And so are quite a few of her lieutenants. They attacked the Council, didn’t you hear?”
His head snapped back over his shoulder, eyes glimmering like a scared animal’s in the dark. “She’s what? I’ve been in the hospital, I didn’t hear.… Are you sure?”
“She betrayed the city,” I said. “And she killed—” I couldn’t even say it aloud. “She killed a lot of people. She’s never leaving that jail, not ever.”
Garan let out his breath and his whole body sagged, as though he’d been propped up by the air in his lungs alone. Hadrea caught his arm and steadied him. “Why did you think the Warrior-Guilder would try to kill you?” she asked.
He shook his head, dazed. “I was guarding your sister,” he said, and if he said anything else I didn’t hear it for the sudden rushing sound in my ears.
My heart started hammering as the emotion I’d suppressed burst through the cracks Hadrea had opened. Aven’s cold eyes, the evil pleasure in her smile as she had taunted me, and her words, the terrible images she had used to try to unhinge me … This time I had no armor. I stopped walking, rubbed my hands over my face, trying to compose myself. “I can’t talk about my sister. Please.”
“She told me,” Garan said, and though I couldn’t see him, I heard tears in his voice. “She told me what she guessed about the Warrior-Guilder, and I didn’t listen. I didn’t believe her. I … What happened, it’s my fault.” He made a choking sound. “She escaped, but when the Warrior-Guilder came, I … I told her what your sister said. I didn’t think … I only told her because I was worried Kalina might do something risky, run into the battle, and I thought we could help her.”
Fury wormed its way through the pain, even though some part of me knew, looking at the poor scared lad, that I couldn’t blame anyone but the monster responsible. Hadrea slipped an arm around my waist, and that calm contact drained my anger.
“It’s not your fault,” I said, and though my tone came out wooden, I meant it. “Who would believe a Councilor would do something like this. She was your Guild leader. You trusted her.”
He dragged his fingers through his unruly hair, making it stick out even further. “There was something, though, something I didn’t trust. I followed her. I’m good at following people,” he added in a mumble. “Not much good at anything else.”
I knew where this was going, and I didn’t want to hear from another person how horribly my sister had died. It might make this boy feel better to share it with someone, but how would that help me? “I know what happened,” I said. “I don’t think I can hear it again, all right?”
But Hadrea’s grip on my waist had tightened. Again, she read him better than I. “Garan,” she said, and this time it was her voice that came out strange and tight. “Garan, where are we going?”