Page 116
Story: The Arrow and the Alder
“What she is to me doesn’t matter if we don’t save Canna,” Alder said at last.
Lord Hammerfell regarded him. “And if wedo?” In Alder’s silence, he lifted his glass and took a slow sip of his spirits. He licked his lips before setting the glass down again. “Don’t be distracted, Alder. If you mean to save your people and reclaim your throne, there is no room for an affair, and I daresay you risk Weald’s favor if you compromise her.” Alder bristled at his uncle’s choice of words. “Forbothof your sakes. The other courts are watching us, and they may even lend their support if you choose your next steps wisely. And you certainly should not begin your reign by claiming the daughter of Light on the outset ofhers.”
His uncle was thinking of another alliance, undoubtedly through marriage.
Fire moved through Alder’s veins, though he hid it behind a smile. “Don’t worry, Uncle. I have never been more singularly focused in all my life.”
Seph shut her eyes and used hereloitto sense the target moving along its trajectory.
Thwick.
Draw, pull,thwick.
And again.
“You are getting quite good at that,” Rasia said from where she perched upon the ledge.
Seph opened her eyes and started after the arrows she’d shot. “Not good enough.”
“It’s futile to compare yourself to Prince Alder, Your Highness,” Rasia said with that wisdom Seph still found disconcerting. “He’s the best there is. No matter how much you practice, you can’t possibly be better than Prince Alder.”
Seph glanced sideways at Rasia. “Thank you, Rasia.”
Rasia smiled, all teeth and innocence.
“Anyway, I am not trying to bebetterthan Alder,” Seph said. “I’m just trying to stay alive.”
The injury in her shoulder was a constant sore, and while it’d healed beautifully—thanks to Sienna’s ability as a healer—it was still tender. Alder had told her to rest, and Seph knew she was pushing her limits by spending so much time at the training yard, but she couldn’t allow her muscles to grow soft.
Also, the training yard was empty in the mornings, and Seph relished that solitude, short though it was. She hardly got any time alone anymore, trapped underground, working closely with the elders as she pored over Alder’s translations. What little spare time shewasgranted, Seph spent with the people of Light. Getting to know them. Eating in the hall, hearing their stories while sharing her own. They were all very eager to know about her grandfather and the mortal life he’d been granted. His memory was like a thread connecting Seph to the kith around her, weaving their fates together.
In fact, the people of Light were swiftly growing on her—especially Rasia—but these past few weeks, Seph had been in communion with people more than she’d ever been in all her life, and she felt thoroughly depleted. But rest would have to come later. After they defeated the curse or won the war—whichever came first.
Because according to Abecka’s vision, they now had only one month left.
Seph picked up the black arrows and shoved them back into her quiver. She’d lost the pearlescent bow that Alder had given her at Callant, but thankfully, Evora had given her another. This one was black and probably a little too large for her tiny frame, but it had a nice long range, so Seph adapted her style to accommodate. Which also meant she needed to practice since her injury made it difficult.
“Any luck with the enchantments?” Rasia asked, kicking her heels.
Seph had been ripping her brain apart these past three weeks, trying to find the answers to the mystery of the coat. She’d toiled over the papers Alder left, trying to see if there was something they’d all overlooked. Some pattern they’d missed. She couldn’t help but notice that every word her grandfather had scribbled was listed amidst Alder’s translations, and in the order her grandfather had written.
Heart of a star.
Salt of sorrow.
Endure the fire.
Surrender light borrowed.
As Seph strode back to the line, she relayed her suspicions to Rasia: that she believed there was some significance to her grandfather’s riddle with regards to the coat.
“It is a good thought,” Rasia said after a moment, still kicking her heels. “Salt of sorrow. That one is obviously tears, but the rest…Hmm.”
Seph knew all about the kith and their riddles, but she also knew how easy it was to see a riddle when there was none.
“It could be related to the coat,” Rasia said at last. “Or it could be nothing at all and you’ve wasted a lot of time running down the wrong path. And if itdidmean something, don’t you think Abecka would have known?”
Seph knew Rasia was right.
Lord Hammerfell regarded him. “And if wedo?” In Alder’s silence, he lifted his glass and took a slow sip of his spirits. He licked his lips before setting the glass down again. “Don’t be distracted, Alder. If you mean to save your people and reclaim your throne, there is no room for an affair, and I daresay you risk Weald’s favor if you compromise her.” Alder bristled at his uncle’s choice of words. “Forbothof your sakes. The other courts are watching us, and they may even lend their support if you choose your next steps wisely. And you certainly should not begin your reign by claiming the daughter of Light on the outset ofhers.”
His uncle was thinking of another alliance, undoubtedly through marriage.
Fire moved through Alder’s veins, though he hid it behind a smile. “Don’t worry, Uncle. I have never been more singularly focused in all my life.”
Seph shut her eyes and used hereloitto sense the target moving along its trajectory.
Thwick.
Draw, pull,thwick.
And again.
“You are getting quite good at that,” Rasia said from where she perched upon the ledge.
Seph opened her eyes and started after the arrows she’d shot. “Not good enough.”
“It’s futile to compare yourself to Prince Alder, Your Highness,” Rasia said with that wisdom Seph still found disconcerting. “He’s the best there is. No matter how much you practice, you can’t possibly be better than Prince Alder.”
Seph glanced sideways at Rasia. “Thank you, Rasia.”
Rasia smiled, all teeth and innocence.
“Anyway, I am not trying to bebetterthan Alder,” Seph said. “I’m just trying to stay alive.”
The injury in her shoulder was a constant sore, and while it’d healed beautifully—thanks to Sienna’s ability as a healer—it was still tender. Alder had told her to rest, and Seph knew she was pushing her limits by spending so much time at the training yard, but she couldn’t allow her muscles to grow soft.
Also, the training yard was empty in the mornings, and Seph relished that solitude, short though it was. She hardly got any time alone anymore, trapped underground, working closely with the elders as she pored over Alder’s translations. What little spare time shewasgranted, Seph spent with the people of Light. Getting to know them. Eating in the hall, hearing their stories while sharing her own. They were all very eager to know about her grandfather and the mortal life he’d been granted. His memory was like a thread connecting Seph to the kith around her, weaving their fates together.
In fact, the people of Light were swiftly growing on her—especially Rasia—but these past few weeks, Seph had been in communion with people more than she’d ever been in all her life, and she felt thoroughly depleted. But rest would have to come later. After they defeated the curse or won the war—whichever came first.
Because according to Abecka’s vision, they now had only one month left.
Seph picked up the black arrows and shoved them back into her quiver. She’d lost the pearlescent bow that Alder had given her at Callant, but thankfully, Evora had given her another. This one was black and probably a little too large for her tiny frame, but it had a nice long range, so Seph adapted her style to accommodate. Which also meant she needed to practice since her injury made it difficult.
“Any luck with the enchantments?” Rasia asked, kicking her heels.
Seph had been ripping her brain apart these past three weeks, trying to find the answers to the mystery of the coat. She’d toiled over the papers Alder left, trying to see if there was something they’d all overlooked. Some pattern they’d missed. She couldn’t help but notice that every word her grandfather had scribbled was listed amidst Alder’s translations, and in the order her grandfather had written.
Heart of a star.
Salt of sorrow.
Endure the fire.
Surrender light borrowed.
As Seph strode back to the line, she relayed her suspicions to Rasia: that she believed there was some significance to her grandfather’s riddle with regards to the coat.
“It is a good thought,” Rasia said after a moment, still kicking her heels. “Salt of sorrow. That one is obviously tears, but the rest…Hmm.”
Seph knew all about the kith and their riddles, but she also knew how easy it was to see a riddle when there was none.
“It could be related to the coat,” Rasia said at last. “Or it could be nothing at all and you’ve wasted a lot of time running down the wrong path. And if itdidmean something, don’t you think Abecka would have known?”
Seph knew Rasia was right.
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