Season of Glory (26 page)

His words seemed true, but there was just a hint of something else beneath them.
“You attempted to . . . win such a vow yourself,” I said. “From Andriana. Back in
Pacifica. You abducted her, held her captive, and then attempted to make her fall
in love with you.”

“Because of Sethos's insistence.” He took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead.
“I was not in my right mind. I believe that
Sethos held me spellbound, or something.
Pressed me to use my gifting against her, rather than for or with her. It shames
me to this day.” He gave me a raw, open look, as if he desperately wanted nothing
but forgiveness and acceptance.

I felt my resolve and suspicion crumble a bit. “But yesterday . . . Keallach, I heard
Sethos mention Dri. What did he say?”

He waved me off. “Idle attempts to lure me to return,” he said, grimacing. “He was
using everything he could. He knew he was losing me. That I was turning my back on
him.” He shrugged and shook his head.

“But in mentioning Dri—”

“Look, Ronan,” he interrupted, lifting a hand. “Andriana is beautiful, inside and
out. I'd be a liar if I didn't admit to finding her attractive. But she is
yours
.
She always has been. Even in the palace, when we had time to be alone, I knew it
was you she longed for. Never me. The Maker put you two together for more than serving
the Way. I will honor that.”

I studied him for a long moment. He seemed completely earnest. “So I will ask this
of you but once. You are not here to try and get close to her again?”

He tilted his head a bit. “Only as a brother longs for a sister's company. No more
than I long for Tressa's. I swear it.” He reached out an arm to me and waited.

And after a long moment I took it, accepting his pledge and, in doing so, allowing
him past my defense, deeper into the Remnants' circle at last.

KEALLACH

Andriana's Knight left me, and I turned back to the view again, inhaling a deep draught
of fresh, Valley air. A tiny grin tugged at the corners of my lips.

They would cave, the Ailith, one by one. Give in to my persistence. Allow me full
access in time. I knew it was true.

My mind raced as I thought about Ronan's analogy of the river, because, truly, I
felt like I was getting closer and closer to the center's pull. And yet I could not
deny the desire to lead a portion of the water away, to forge my own river, to carve
new territory from the earth, bring forth new growth, and explore farther, rather
than be trapped in an old, tired path not of my own making. Standing here, I felt
like I approached a split in the river, and it gave me power to know I had the ability
to choose. And that power made me feel stronger than I had in some time.

This wasn't about what the Remnants wanted.

This wasn't about what the Maker wanted.

This wasn't about what Sethos wanted.

This wasn't about Pacifica, or the Trading Union.

This was about me. What I wanted. Solely me.

It niggled at me that I hadn't told anybody how Sethos had so easily found Andriana
in Zanzibar, and now here, in the Valley. Of the tracking devices still pinging away
like homing devices within her and Kapriel. For the time being, I wanted to know
that I could use them myself, if necessary. And as far as we'd planned, Sethos was
to leave me for a week or more, to infiltrate deeper. So he and Pacifica would not
be an imminent threat, which gave me full sway. I knew I'd given him cause to wonder,
the way I'd acted, the things I'd said. But I wagered he'd think he could win me
back on a moment's notice.

But he'd be surprised if he tried.

Because this is about me, and what I want now,
I repeated to myself.
About how I
fully come into my own. Into my own power. Me.

CHAPTER
28

KEALLACH

T
he next morning, I finished my breakfast, ignoring the fact that no one spoke to me
or sat beside me, then I watched as the Ailith rose to follow Niero, never looking in my direction. I followed Andriana with my eyes for but a moment—just long enough to tell that her vision seemed perfectly normal now—then looked away before Ronan could catch my wondering glance. At the doorway, Niero turned and watched them file past, then stared over at me. He grabbed Kapriel's arm, said something in his ear, and I saw my brother hesitate and then nod once.

I wiped my mouth and returned Niero's gaze, trying not to blink. He'd been revealed as both man and angel. Could he discern my inner thoughts?

I concentrated on what I knew he'd approve of within me, what I honestly felt anyway.
I wanted to be one with the Ailith. To take my place among the Remnants. To know
what it was to be
in the Community—fully a part of it. Maybe it was even more than
I dreamed. Maybe it was all I needed, deep within. Who knew? Maybe it'd be enough
for me to turn away from Pacifica forever. I was open-minded enough to consider it.

I just needed a chance. A chance to see. A chance to try.

Others around me had fallen silent, waiting and watching.

Give me a chance, Niero. Just one.

I wanted to will him to obey me, as I willed others to act. But since the night of
the attack, I had not used my lower gift. I'd sworn to Niero that I wouldn't.
“Not
until the day you or a trainer or another teaches me how to make it a higher gift
again,”
I'd promised.

His lips parted, and I held my breath. The moment was finally here. I exalted in
it.

But then Niero clamped his lips shut and turned away, disappearing through the arched
doorway.

Stubbornly, I grabbed my plate, took it to the dish bin, tossed it in—ignoring the
cracking sound—and followed him out.
No one left me behind. No one refused me. I
was the—

I caught myself at the doorway. Grabbed hold of it, as if to physically restrain
myself.

Here in the Valley, I was nothing more than anyone in the room. I glanced over my
shoulder and saw that many stared after me. Some mocked, some appeared like they
felt sorry for me, and others looked upon me in open distaste. I supposed that made
sense; many blamed me for the pain they suffered. I was the scapegoat for their hatred.

I wrenched away and strode down the hall toward my quarters, turned the corner at
the far end, and came up short.

Kapriel was leaning against the wall, head down as if praying, arms folded.

I stepped closer to him, and he winced.

I stilled, waiting.

Slowly, my brother opened his eyes and looked into mine. “He said it was up to me.
Whether or not I let you train with us today.”

His hesitation told me all I needed to know. “Don't worry about it,” I said, starting
to walk again. “I already know the answer. This place is full of hypocrites,” I said,
throwing up my hands. “They say they believe in the ways of the Maker, of the Way
itself. Of love, and peace, and forgiveness, but do I see any of that?”

He followed behind me, eventually catching my stride. “You and your people have kidnapped
and enslaved and oppressed and dominated ours for years,” he said. “Did you really
think you could just come in here and all would be well? They're wary. We're all
wary! And for good reason.”

I turned and faced him. “For how long, Kapriel? We're in the middle of a battle with
Pacifica, a battle about to become a war, and I've just switched sides. Thrown it
all over to be a part of this,” I said, gesturing at the rock walls. I took a deep
breath and pinched the bridge of my nose, then put my hands on my hips and looked
him in the eye again. “I threw it all away, Kapriel, so I could be a part of
your
life again. Part of the family that is the Ailith. I know I made horrific decisions,
made terrible mistakes,” I said. “But I was only a kid. Please,” I said, reaching
out to him, but he edged away from my touch. “Please. Niero's right. It's your place
to decide if I should be officially allowed in or escorted to the desert to be abandoned
there. Of all people, it's your place. But Kapriel . . . I'm begging you to forgive
me.”

I swallowed hard, remembering the day our parents died. The day our Knights died.
The numbing horror of death upon death of people we loved most. The cascading sensation
of it all falling away from me, spinning out of control. I pressed the palm of
my
hand to my head and closed my eyes, wanting to block the memories but now unable
to stop them.

It was all there. Present. More vivid. Like I'd never fully remembered it before.

Had I?

Had I?

Mom. Dad. Their blood spreading across the marble floor, their eyes wide yet unseeing.

Kapriel, being led away, his hands tied behind his back. Beseeching me with his eyes
that saw all. Trying to make sense of everything that was transpiring around us.

“Not my brother too—”

“It's the only way,”
Sethos had said.
“The only way for you to rule a kingdom of
peace and prosperity.”

But had I known a day of peace since then?

Had I ever appreciated a single portion of the wealth granted me?

It was all so empty . . . so empty.

“Oh, Kapriel,” I uttered, sinking to my knees, my legs suddenly weak and wobbly.
“What did I do that day? How could I have given up all that mattered?”

It wasn't until I felt his hands on my shoulders and his forehead touching mine
that I recognized that tears flowed unabated down my cheeks.

I hadn't cried since the day before it all changed. The day that Sethos found me,
weeping in my room, frustrated about my brother's favor with my parents and crying
over some injustice. Sethos had grabbed that as a foundation and had built upon it
every day forward.

Kapriel's own tears fell upon my cheeks, mingled with mine, and ran down my cheeks
and neck. Then he straightened, wiped his eyes and nose, and helped me rise.

Giving me one last, searching look, he uttered a simple sentence. “Come, join your
Ailith kin, brother.”

I saw them then, gathered at the end of the hall. Every one of the Ailith. Waiting.

My cheeks burned. Had it been their combined power that broke through my walls of
false protection and partial memory? My steps weren't as sure now as I walked toward
them. I felt weak, vulnerable, exposed. Yet the looks on their faces were more open,
cautiously approving, and welcoming than ever before.

As I joined them to leave the Citadel for the day's training, all I could think was,
What just happened to me?

But all I could feel was brilliant, blinding hope.

ANDRIANA

I was both surprised and utterly moved when Ronan finally told me what he'd done
three nights past, as we walked to the dining hall for supper. We were among throngs
of people, so his words were brief, but I understood the magnitude of what had occurred,
given his fluctuating feelings of caution, elation, and lingering fear. I imagined
that if we were to allow Keallach complete access, we'd all be feeling that way for
a while. I shook my head, wondering over it. How had the Maker made such a thing
possible? And why was I continually surprised by his might and reach?

Niero caught up to us, moving to my other side. “We have new arrivals in the Citadel,”
he murmured.

“New arrivals?” Ronan squawked, glancing Niero's way as we got jostled about. The
passageway was packed with people, all excitedly talking and laughing or grumbling
at once. “Where will we put them?”

“Believe it or not, there's still room in the south quadrant. The elders planned
this fortress well.”

“Thank the Maker,” Ronan said. “Where are the new ones from?”

Niero's dark eyes twinkled, and his lips twitched with a smile. “I think I'll let
you discover that yourselves.”

We finally reached the dining hall, and I took a deep breath, appreciating the cavernous
space after the cramped nature of the hallway. Before us were lines of tables and
benches and people already busily helping themselves from platters full of food.
My eyes widened as I noted chunks of meat on each platter, which people were merrily
slicing and serving to others at their tables. By the color and texture, I knew it
wasn't mudhorse. And we hadn't had meat in the Community since we arrived home.
It was a rare treat before; with so many people here now, it seemed impossible.

We made our way to the front of the room, where we'd become accustomed to eating
alongside the elders, all dressed in white. My eyes fell greedily upon the quickly
disappearing meat at the center of the table, and my stomach rumbled. It smelled
delicious. “Venison?” I asked, finally putting a name to what I'd seen and eaten
only once, with Chaza'el's people north of Pacifica.

“Yes,” Niero said, eyes sparkling. “Our visitors brought it with them—along with
an entire herd of deer. Zulema and her grandson are now discussing with Dagan how
they shall encourage breeding and expansion of the herd.” He inclined his head toward
a table to our right, and I saw the farmer and goatherds excitedly talking while
busily stuffing their mouths with food. We also had rice on our table—a rarity we'd
only periodically had access to. But we'd learned that Dagan had
planted seeds upon
his arrival, taking advantage of the last of Harvest's warmth and our wetlands to
coax a small crop before snow fell. I let the kernels shift in my mouth before chewing,
enjoying the nutty taste.

Vidar and Bellona joined us across the table, and he hooted, eyes wide, as he discovered
what was before us. When Niero shared the news with them too, as Ronan cut them both
a generous slice, Vidar said, “Who are these newcomers? I believe I must kiss them
all on the mouth.”