Page 169 of The Chains You Defy

“Why does the tyrant desire our sacred relic?”

“Because he’s a racist shithead who has no consideration for our roots, I’d guess.”

“And you do?”

“Chieftain Lasair, I don’t have much respect for anything. But the ancients? I’d be a fool not to acknowledge you for what you are.”

“And what are we in your opinion?”

“The essence of life running through Galanta. Not only the past but also the future. Wisdom of millennia causing almost everyone’s existence to pale in comparison. And—a problem.”

Lasair tensed.

I knew she would. Still, being open with her was necessary, or else she’d assume I was simply flattering her to save my own skin. And nothing was further from my intention.

“A problem? Elaborate.”

“The ancients have always been a special interest of mine. When I was younger, I read a lot about the six tribes, as well as about the origins of magic, and Idiscussed this with scholars. But what I’ve learned lately is disconcerting. You’re dying out. Which should be impossible since the ancients received the gift of immortality from Kalag, didn’t they?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny your thesis.”

“Of course. It’s a secret, and I respect that. But the sentiment remains—the tribes are dwindling in numbers. There are, what, maybe still ten Graigh alive? Your people and the Ainmhi are faring slightly better, according to my research. The Uisce? The Aeri? The last intel from a century ago states that their tribes have no more than twenty members each left. And no one has seen the Dorchacht in a long time. Then, the last child born to any of the tribes? One who had more than just such distant ancestry that their blood wouldn’t count as related to the ancients? Was that a few millennia ago? So, all this paints a grim picture, even if we ignore that no one has heard anything about any of the godkin for even longer. Did they truly all perish, as that one origin legend claims? It’s unsettling. Especially in front of the backdrop that the fabric between the worlds is thinning and ripping open in places.”

The chieftain studied me long and intently.

Finally, my interest in this unusual topic—inherited from my father, by the way—paid off.

“Your information is almost correct. And I have to admit, you surprise me, given your roots, deeds, and reputation.”

“Oh, I’m sure everything you heard about me is accurate. But you haven’t heard everything there is to me, so that’s that.”

“At least you speak true and from the heart. I respect that. But tell me, why don’t you defy your kin? You spoke of two reasons.”

“Yes. First, I can’t physically fight him. When I was a faeling, he ensured that I’d never be able to hurt him. Whenever I try, the aggression reverts to me, and I collapse in pain.”

“Deasghnatha an Athru Iomlan?”

“I’m not sure, but Ritual of Reversal sounds pretty accurate.” I didn’t like the way the chieftain looked at me, as if she could see right through me.

“Unpleasant. Well. Yes, I do understand how that’s a disadvantage. And your second reason?”

“Galrach is blackmailing me. And though the first argument is a strong one, the second concern is the only one that matters. In the end, I’d commit the worst atrocities the worlds have ever witnessed to disarm the threat my grandfather holds over my head.”

“So, you selfishly set out and do a mad king’s bidding? Why?”

“Because not doing so would endanger my woman.”

“A human female?”

“Yes. I recently found her in Ivreia. I’m courting her, and my wish to keep her safe has nothing to do with the fact that she underwent the Rite of Binding with me. Even if she were without a drop of Potential, I’d do everything in my power to protect her from harm with the same determination and ferocity.” This time, I couldn’t help myself. I bared my teeth, warning her not to say anything negative about Nayana. My magic swelled—the powers grew agitated as well.

“What a surprise.The monster has a heart.”

Shrugging, I glared at her. Mentioning Nayana had made me jumpy, especially since she wasn’t clamped to my side. No, she was in the fucking palace, right under my grandfather’s nose while I was playing errand faeling. Acid was burning in my throat at all the dreadful possibilities of how harm could befall her in my absence.

Protect.

Fuck. How could I have left her alone?