Page 54

54

Freedom

Idris

“ I admit I didn’t expect you to return,” the Lord said, leaning back in his throne and hooking one leg over the armrest.

“I aim to surprise,” Anya said, showing no insult at the Lord’s comment. She stood beside Idris wearing one of Phina’s dresses, a plain blue one that was too long, but contrasted the warmth of her hair beautifully.

Minutes ago, Idris had entered the great hall feeling invincible—but seeing the Lord’s shrewd expression had dimmed his optimism. The Lord was nothing if not selfish and unpredictable.

“Your Oath of Proving has vanished without record,” the Lord continued. “You say that is the work of the Well?”

“So, too, does your Mighty Knight,” Anya pointed out, inclining her head in Oderin’s direction.

Idris’s friend stood off to one side in full regalia, his expression flat. He’d been unwavering in his loyalty to Idris over the past week—even the gripes about Idris shackling him to a tree had been half-hearted in the aftermath of Anya’s quest. Oderin had gone above and beyond to keep Anya safe, and Idris would forever be in his debt for that.

Oderin did not show his bias toward Idris now, though. Never before the Lord. He stared straight ahead, blank and indifferent.

Anya gestured at Hammond, who also stood nearby. “The historical records your Mirror Knight brought also state that Oaths—”

“I’m aware of the history of the Well and its effects on Oaths,” Lord Haron said.

Then why did you ask her? Idris thought irritably.

“She entered the forest alone,” Oderin cut in.

The Lord’s beady eyes flicked to the Mighty Knight. “And she had no help on her path to the water?”

“She did not,” Oderin replied truthfully, still not looking at Idris or Anya.

“What of my Valiant Knight?” Lord Haron asked Oderin. “What hand in this did he play?”

“No hand but duty,” Oderin said. “He made a kill. Should be in the ledger.”

“Did he make the kill in rescue?” the Lord pressed.

“Only in rescue of himself,” Oderin said.

All true.

“And you wish to retire?” the Lord asked Idris. “After all this time?”

“I do.”

The Lord’s eyes narrowed on Idris. “I feel no loyalty from you anymore. Your Oath is already severed, your mark gone.”

“It dissolved,” Idris answered. “In the Well of Fate.”

The Lord’s eyes flicked to Oderin, who nodded.

The Lord lowered his leg and leaned forward, gripping the arms of his throne. “I am to believe that you both entered the forest separately, you both located the Well without the others’ help, and you both dissolved your Oaths?”

“That is as it happened,” Oderin said. “By my Mighty word, I swear it.”

What Oderin didn’t divulge: the fact that Idris carried Anya the last few feet to the water’s edge. He hadn’t witnessed that part, and Idris had told him only that Anya had found the pool on her own. It was the truth, if only the most favorable version. Oderin hadn’t wanted to know more.

The Lord swiveled his cruel gaze back to Anya. “I am a man of my word,” he said slowly, begrudgingly. “Therefore…” He paused, clearly enjoying making everyone wait. “You are absolved.”

Anya’s face lit up, and she squeezed her fists to her chest, jubilation making her bounce on the balls of her feet. Idris’s heart felt just as joyous, but he held a firm expression, knowing that their victory would irritate the Lord if they flaunted it.

Indeed, the Lord held up a hand, limiting Anya’s cheer. “You still know too much,” he said to the both of them. “That in and of itself is no criminal offense, but without the binding of even retired Oaths, I am concerned. How can I trust that you won’t spread knowledge to which you have no claim?”

“What knowledge?” Idris asked. He was already enjoying his Oathless existence, his ability to blatantly sidestep the Lord’s questions with no recourse. No leash-yanking.

Oderin jumped in, just as Idris hoped he would. “The Well cleared their Fates, m’Lord,” he said. “It’s possible it cleared…other things, too.”

It was not a lie, but the implication was far from accurate—that was the beauty of vague statements. Oderin was not inexperienced at playing his part, navigating his role. Though Idris didn’t understand his friend’s loyalty to the Lordship at times, he certainly respected Oderin’s dedication to the just execution of his knighthood.

Lord Haron stroked his chin, considering the Mighty Knight’s statement. His eyes narrowed on Idris and Anya, as if he could see inside their minds, find the lie. But after a few moments, he sat back, his concerns seemingly appeased—at least for now.

“Any hint of betrayal of knowledge, and I’ll send knights to your door, Anya Alvara,” the Lord said. “I know many who’d gladly bring harm to Idris and his associates.”

An empty threat—but the Lord didn’t know that. No one did.

Idris had been shocked to run into Heris, Mariana, and two other Valiant Knights inside the haunted wood. He’d been sopping wet, with Anya’s unconscious body draped across his arms, not a half hour into his trek through the forest back to Oderin.

Puzzlingly, they had cleared the path of threats so Idris could carry her to safety. When asked why Heris would endeavor to kill Anya one moment and spare her the next, Heris had narrowed his cruel gaze on Mariana.

“Remember our mercy when the war comes ,” she had said.

A warning. A promise.

Idris didn’t quite know what she meant, but paired with her hint about an uprising, he wasn’t interested in learning more. When once such talk would’ve concerned Idris, he felt disconnected from politics and the factions of the Order of the Valiant now. He didn’t much care about the Lord’s Fate, nor the secret machinations of his former Order. Uprisings, secrets—Idris was henceforth uninvolved. The only future he cared about now was his shared future with Anya. For the first time in his life, Idris was eager to face what laid ahead. With Anya as his North Star, his Fortune, his Fate, he had no doubt that his future contained promise.

With his Oath dissolved, he planned to enjoy his freedom. It’s what Grinnick would’ve wanted.

Even so, Lord Haron’s certainty that many a Valiant Knight would be glad to hunt Idris down—to silence him—wasn’t far enough from the truth for him to want to step out of line. Heris had, by Mariana’s urging, begrudgingly shown him mercy this time—but he didn’t trust the hidden intentions behind their help, nor would he rely upon it happening again. Idris would be honest with Anya about his past—his whole past—but there was no reason for them to extend that knowledge beyond the bounds of their relationship.

“There’s one more thing I must see for myself,” the Lord said, bringing Idris’s attention back into the room. The Lord raised a hand, gesturing at an attendant.

From a set of double doors behind the throne, a series of Mirror Knights appeared. They carried the Mirrors of Fortune and Death into the hall, arranging them atop a pair of awaiting stands Idris hadn’t noticed when he came in. Once the Mirrors were in place, the Guards fanned around them, standing at attention with hands on hilts.

Lord Haron opened his palm toward the Mirrors.

It took Idris a moment to remember this part of Anya’s mission. The Lord wished for her to gaze into the Mirrors of Fortune and Death. And Idris, too, apparently.

Idris glanced back at Oderin. His friend’s stoicism had fissured, revealing a flash of curiosity. Hammond, too, appeared quite interested. It seemed everyone wanted to know what the magical waters had done to his and Anya’s Fates.

Idris grasped Anya’s hand, holding firm as they walked together toward the Mirrors. Her palm was clammy, but she gripped him tightly, brave and self-assured as she approached her new visions. When they neared the Mirrors, they broke contact, and Anya stepped forward first.

In audience of the Lord, his ledgermasters and squires, Hammond and the other Mirror Knights, Oderin, and Idris, Anya positioned herself before the Mirror of Fortune. She waited two heartbeats, three. Finally, its silver-storm surface rippled like water—but rather than clearing into a specific vision as it normally would, the Mirror remained opaque as an overcast sky.

Anya glanced at Idris quizzically—then back to the Mirror. The surface of it stirred again, returning to its usual reflective appearance.

Her Fortune was…blank?

“Curious,” the Lord said. “Try the next one.”

Anya did as she was told, though her steps faltered as she faced the Mirror of Death. Idris’s throat clenched around a ball of dread, fearing that the woman he loved would once again see him as her end. But the Mirror of Death did the same as the Mirror of Fortune: it showed nothing but a gray haze.

“Keep moving,” the Lord prompted.

Idris stepped up to the Mirror of Fortune, remembering the vision he’d seen for so many years—one that had scared him. Made him doubt the type of man he was. He waited for what felt like an eternity before the Mirror of Fortune rippled, revealing the same sort of blankness Anya had seen.

He looked to her now, standing beyond the Mirrors. Idris walked toward her, then faced his Mirror of Death. What had once shown him countless deaths over the years was blank.

“Very curious,” the Lord said. “You may go now.”

The order snapped Idris out of the hesitant pause of his non-visions. There was no time to waste. He placed his fingertips on the center of Anya’s back, guiding her quickly, eager to exit the chamber before the Lord could say anything more.

As they neared Oderin, Idris’s friend turned, clearly intending to see them out—but the Lord called to the Mighty Knight. “Major Oderin, there are additional matters to discuss.”

Oderin paused, sparing Idris one last glance. It was a look of kinship, a flash of kindness. Without the pull of his Order to Fenrir, Idris wasn’t sure when he’d see his friend again—but he would. Oderin was too close a connection not to visit on occasion. The idea of traveling to Fenrir just for a drink with Oderin sounded quite pleasant, in fact. Better than any reason that had beckoned him here before.

Idris returned Oderin’s quick grin, then guided Anya out of the hall. He kept his fingers on her spine as they hurried through the keep and out into the drizzly gray of morning.

“I thought the Well of Fate changed the future, not nullified it.” Anya whispered as they walked across the courtyard. “What do you think it means?”

Idris didn’t presume to understand why their Fates were blank instead of altered. Perhaps all that monster blood had warped the effects of the pool, just as their presence warped the Fates of anyone who neared them. He didn’t know—and he didn’t much care about the how or why. He only cared that Anya was here by his side.

“It means our Fate truly is what we make of it,” he replied.

Anya smiled. “Then let’s make it great.”