Page 48 of The Cruel Dawn (Vallendor #2)
“I apologize for saying ‘my temple.’” He ruffles his hair.
“You called it—I’m prideful, sometimes. When you’re gone, I’m responsible for everything in the province, and so I tend to think ‘my’ and ‘mine.’ But you’re here now, and even when you’re not…
The Gashoans built the temple to honor you, and I…
” He smirks. “I only carry your purse .”
I murmur, “I don’t think that.”
“She does.”
“Since when do you care what Elyn thinks of you?”
“She was your best friend once upon a time.”
“But that time has passed,” I say. “Today, we are…reluctant partners.”
Elyn and Zephar never got along. She resented that he thought of her as a “fucking librarian,” and he resented her for thinking of him as a “strutting big dick who thinks with a fire-ravaged brain.”
Now, Zephar pushes his hands through his hair and trudges over toward the tub. “Are you coming back?”
“Yes.”
“When do we leave for the Sea? It will be a long walk, since we can’t Spryte.”
“I know. We’ll leave tonight.”
He nods. “I’ll be ready for our departure, then.” His hardness softens, and he scrutinizes my face again. “I’m worried about what’s happening to you.”
I offer him a sad smile. “I’m worried about what’s happening to Vallendor.”
He finally plucks the worrisome patch of skin from my forehead.
I whisper, “Ouch,” and giggle.
He studies the fragment of skin, so tiny on his thick finger.
I leave him there, staring at that piece of me.
…
Shari follows Elyn and me past the pavilion, the eyes of many on our backs. She stops at the top of the path out of the Sanctum.
I kneel before the wolf and hold her face between my hands. “That fool up there upsets you.”
She whines.
“Why?”
She pants and growls.
“Can she talk to you?” Elyn asks.
I shake my head. “No—she belongs to Zephar.” I stroke her snout, wishing that she were mine. “I’ll be careful,” I tell her now. “I know there’s something wrong here. I feel it, too.”
Elyn and I trudge along the dusty path toward Malik Sindire’s settlement. Selenova hangs low in the sky, and her white light casts long shadows across the hills. Tension crackles between me and the Adjudicator. Her first visit to the Sanctum didn’t match the wondrous visit to the Misty Garden.
“We’re almost there,” I say now, alert as I scan the surrounding wilderness.
Elyn smiles tightly. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself that you know where you’re going.”
Before I can respond, a figure steps onto the path before us.
The Eserime healer who’d beckoned me on my arrival days ago wears a warrior’s breastplate and an under-tunic embroidered with swirls of silver thread.
She could be poor Nimith’s sister with that copper skin and those gray eyes.
She notices my hand reaching for Fury, and she holds out her own hands to save her life. “I haven’t come to harm you.”
She smiles at Elyn and bows deeply. “Lady Fynal, it’s an honor.”
Elyn stiffens. “And who are you?”
“Tatanye Lote.” Her face looks calm, but there’s a note of anxiety in her tone. “A healer now with Lord Itikin’s—pardon me, Lady Megidrail’s —battalion.”
Elyn’s brow furrows. “See, I don’t understand this. The warrior who despises stewards—”
“Can we not?” I shake my head at Elyn. To Tatanye Lote, I say, “Were you trying to get my attention days ago?”
The woman nods. Her eyes flicker momentarily, and she swallows. “Strange, isn’t it?”
I clench my jaw. “What’s strange?”
Tatanye Lote whispers, “The Sanctum is… shifting . Something’s happening here, something I can’t explain. It seems as though I’m imagining it, that I’m the only one here that…that…”
I glance at Elyn—that unease I’ve felt has now been confirmed by this stranger. “What do you mean by shifting ?” I ask.
The Eserime’s lips twitch, and a faint frown tugs at the corner of her mouth. “There’s something wrong with the power here. It’s unstable. The threads that bind this place together are fraying.” She looks directly at Elyn now, her gaze intense. “The other Eserime and I… We shouldn’t be here.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” says Elyn.
“Have you shared your concerns with Zephar?” I ask Tatanye Lote.
She slowly shakes her head. “The Eserime are here—or so we’ve been told—to heal the Gasho and other mortals that need our hands. But I believe we’re here for more than that. That purpose hasn’t been introduced to us yet, but my body can’t rest with this mysterious threat on the horizon.”
Tatanye Lote steps closer to us. “Remain watchful is all I ask.”
Elyn studies the Eserime. “Why do you remain here if you sense this danger? And why did you come? I’ve not sentenced any Eserime to Gasho or Vallendor.”
A faint smile dances across Tatanye Lote’s lips, and her eyes glow with hope.
“I’m honored to aid the Lady of the Verdant Realm in restoring Vallendor to its true purpose.
That’s why I came. That’s why I’ve remained.
” She bows her head to me, but the excitement of her purpose dims and her bright gray eyes darken. “I must go before I’m missed.”
We turn to watch the woman hurry back in the direction we came. Once Elyn and I are alone again, Elyn says, “I felt that strangeness, too.”
“What did you notice?” I ask.
“The man you don’t know,” she says. “In addition to his ridiculous disrespect, I also noticed the symbol on his breastplate.”
“The fiery ‘X’,” I say. “What is that?”
“There’s not much literature yet, but that’s the sign of the Crusaders.”
“The faction within the Mera,” I say, nodding. “But what are they ‘crusading’ against now?”
Elyn shrugs. “I have no idea, but are crusades ever good? Are crusades ever harmless?”
The Crusade of Broken Blades: to stop the expansion of Dindt explorers on the realm Taiko by the Dindt suborder of Honem. Twelve thousand killed.
The Crusade of Black Crowns: the Dashmala appealed to the Mera to come to Vallendor and kill the Gorga—which then brought the Yeaden to defend the Gorga. Six thousand killed.
The Crusades of Wrexen Cadine: Wrexen Cadine, an Adjudicator, led rogue Onama to capture the reliquaries on Linione. He failed. Seventy thousand were killed in that brutal massacre.
People always die on the other side of a crusade.
Yes, something is out of tune here.