Page 88
Story: Master of Iron
I spoon up some soup, feeling no better about the situation.I hoped Petrik might have some words of wisdom or that Kellyn would see things my way.
No such luck.
The boys start up a new conversation, but I stay out of it. I’m too consumed with worry over what I will do if Ravis captures me again. He won’t let me get away with using a magical weapon against him again. He won’t make the mistake of keeping the person I care about near enough for me to free them again. I can picture him ordering Temra locked up in a tower, his men observing my work in the forges with a spyglass, ready to slit my sister’s throat if I make one wrong move.
My thoughts only turn darker and darker from there, and I look up from my food, desperate for an escape.
I find Petrik staring longingly over my shoulder, and I reach for the distraction.
“Give her some time,” I say to the scholar. “You know how stubborn she can be. She’ll probably forgive you eventually.”
“I messed up,” he says. “I shouldn’t have lied to her.”
“Yes, you should have. You did everything right.”
“I took away her choices. That wasn’t fair.”
“But you saved her.”
“I kept her from what’s most important to her. You,” he adds at my confused look. “I don’t think that’s something she can forgive.”
Shyly, I look up at Kellyn. “You’d be surprised.”
The next morning, I wander the halls, unsure of what I’m searching for. Answers maybe? A solution to a problem that can’t be fixed?
Eventually I find myself back at the kitchens, since it’s oneof the few places in the castle I know the location of. Paulia and Serutha are in there together. Serutha mixes a bowl filled with some sort of dough, while Paulia checks on something in the ovens.
“Hello,” I say feebly.
Both girls immediately halt what they’re doing and usher me forward. Paulia shoves food under my face, while Serutha leans forward on one arm, asking me how things are with Kellyn now that he’s healed. I guess they’re both romantics.
“He’s great. We’re great, but—don’t you both know what’s coming our way?”
“The army,” Serutha says.
I sigh. “Am I the only one afraid? The only one who wants to run?”
“Not at all,” Paulia says. “I’m terrified, but I’m going to do what I can. I’m making food for all those who will soon be within the palace gates. We should go through all the perishables before resorting to hardtack and dried meats. Serutha is helping me bake up a storm.”
“But you’re staying? You have no desire to flee? You’re about to start a life together, and Ravis is threatening that. He’s already stolen Serutha once. What will happen if he gets ahold of her again?”
That’s why I’m really here. Because Serutha is the one person who understands my fear. Ravis had her captured for a time, too. She has to be thinking about that.
Serutha stands, drums her fingers on the table once, twice. “I can’t live afraid of what might happen. All I can do is live.”
“I’m afraid,” I say. “What if he catches me again? Why would I stay when I could run?”
The healer stares at me with hardened eyes. “Ravis tooksomething from us. He forced us to use our abilities in ways that we hated. Now you doubt yourself in something that is precious to you. Now you see how your abilities can be used to harm rather than help. Don’t let him have that power over you.”
“But your abilities are for good!” I argue. “Even if you’re healing bad people, you’re never truly doing any wrong.” It’s not the same. Why can’t everyone see how much more dangerous I am in the wrong hands?
Serutha stiffens, and Paulia runs a hand down her back. “Do you not think that if I can heal injuries, Ziva, I can also make them?”
My mouth pops open in a little O.
“Ravis did not just have me heal his scrapes and bruises. He also had me torture men and women he suspected of deceit. Do you think that doesn’t weigh heavy on my soul?”
Quietly, I say, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Please forgive—”
No such luck.
The boys start up a new conversation, but I stay out of it. I’m too consumed with worry over what I will do if Ravis captures me again. He won’t let me get away with using a magical weapon against him again. He won’t make the mistake of keeping the person I care about near enough for me to free them again. I can picture him ordering Temra locked up in a tower, his men observing my work in the forges with a spyglass, ready to slit my sister’s throat if I make one wrong move.
My thoughts only turn darker and darker from there, and I look up from my food, desperate for an escape.
I find Petrik staring longingly over my shoulder, and I reach for the distraction.
“Give her some time,” I say to the scholar. “You know how stubborn she can be. She’ll probably forgive you eventually.”
“I messed up,” he says. “I shouldn’t have lied to her.”
“Yes, you should have. You did everything right.”
“I took away her choices. That wasn’t fair.”
“But you saved her.”
“I kept her from what’s most important to her. You,” he adds at my confused look. “I don’t think that’s something she can forgive.”
Shyly, I look up at Kellyn. “You’d be surprised.”
The next morning, I wander the halls, unsure of what I’m searching for. Answers maybe? A solution to a problem that can’t be fixed?
Eventually I find myself back at the kitchens, since it’s oneof the few places in the castle I know the location of. Paulia and Serutha are in there together. Serutha mixes a bowl filled with some sort of dough, while Paulia checks on something in the ovens.
“Hello,” I say feebly.
Both girls immediately halt what they’re doing and usher me forward. Paulia shoves food under my face, while Serutha leans forward on one arm, asking me how things are with Kellyn now that he’s healed. I guess they’re both romantics.
“He’s great. We’re great, but—don’t you both know what’s coming our way?”
“The army,” Serutha says.
I sigh. “Am I the only one afraid? The only one who wants to run?”
“Not at all,” Paulia says. “I’m terrified, but I’m going to do what I can. I’m making food for all those who will soon be within the palace gates. We should go through all the perishables before resorting to hardtack and dried meats. Serutha is helping me bake up a storm.”
“But you’re staying? You have no desire to flee? You’re about to start a life together, and Ravis is threatening that. He’s already stolen Serutha once. What will happen if he gets ahold of her again?”
That’s why I’m really here. Because Serutha is the one person who understands my fear. Ravis had her captured for a time, too. She has to be thinking about that.
Serutha stands, drums her fingers on the table once, twice. “I can’t live afraid of what might happen. All I can do is live.”
“I’m afraid,” I say. “What if he catches me again? Why would I stay when I could run?”
The healer stares at me with hardened eyes. “Ravis tooksomething from us. He forced us to use our abilities in ways that we hated. Now you doubt yourself in something that is precious to you. Now you see how your abilities can be used to harm rather than help. Don’t let him have that power over you.”
“But your abilities are for good!” I argue. “Even if you’re healing bad people, you’re never truly doing any wrong.” It’s not the same. Why can’t everyone see how much more dangerous I am in the wrong hands?
Serutha stiffens, and Paulia runs a hand down her back. “Do you not think that if I can heal injuries, Ziva, I can also make them?”
My mouth pops open in a little O.
“Ravis did not just have me heal his scrapes and bruises. He also had me torture men and women he suspected of deceit. Do you think that doesn’t weigh heavy on my soul?”
Quietly, I say, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Please forgive—”
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