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CHAPTER TEN

IN WHICH THE HEROINE IS AWARDED A SIDE QUEST

Vyrain chattered away as we ate a satisfying breakfast of flaky, seeded flatbread and soft-boiled eggs courtesy of the cleric’s free-range poultry.

The rest of us were content to keep to ourselves, which I was grateful for.

The lack of sleep put me in a grumpy mood.

And for some unrelated reason, I was starting to feel self-conscious around Lu too.

“You snore,” had been the first thing he said to me that morning, nose scrunched as though he was personally affronted by that fact. I don’t know what I’d expected after last night—odes to my beauty? An endless string of creative pet names à la Vyrain?

“We never did catch your name,” Hohem interjected at some point during the conversation. “Yesterday went by so quickly with everything that happened.”

“Cantal,” the old man supplied. We did a round of introductions for his sake.

In the second of silence afterward, I seized my chance before Vyrain started again. “That thing you turned into yesterday. How did you do it?”

Cantal wiped up a bit of yolk with a piece of bread, unbothered by my question. “Changing magic,” he replied absently. “Using mana from the air and ground to fuel the shift. ”

“Yes, but how?” I set my empty plate aside. “I use changing magic. I can make bones into a different shape and change skin and hair into fur, claws, and spines, but I can’t make myself that much bigger or smaller. You were as tall as a house.”

“Oh, that. I use a bit of making too.”

I sucked in a breath. Do I dare hope? “So I could learn how? Can you teach me?”

“I can try.” Cantal studied me with a critical eye. “How long do you have?”

“How long do I…?” My spirits plummeted. We were on an important mission; we couldn’t afford the delay.

But learning magic from a shahim might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

For someone like me, someone who grew up in a land with no magic and no teachers, it was a dream come true. One I hadn’t even thought to dream.

“We could visit again on our way back,” Vyrain suggested, noticing my hesitation.

He reached out as though to take my hand before letting his arm fall.

“Once we’ve gotten the reward money, we’ll be set for life.

We can do whatever we want—travel the world, see all the sights, find a place that makes us happy to call home. ”

We hadn’t ever discussed what would happen after this.

But he knew we’d go our separate ways, right?

None of us had the same calling. I could stick with Vee, Jük, and Ked for a while, but I’d also have to figure out what I wanted to do long-term—I didn’t plan to mooch off of them for the rest of my life. Now wasn’t the time to argue, however.

“I don’t know,” I answered the holy man. “How long do I need?”

Cantal shrugged. “Everyone is different. I did not become shahim overnight. I am no teacher, mind, so I can only tell you what I’ve done. The rest is up to you.”

He got to his feet. I scrambled to collect my plate and follow suit, not wanting to miss a minute of time that could be spent learning .

“When can we start?” I asked as I trailed him to the kitchen area.

“I have some chores to attend to, but you can accompany me, and we can talk while I work.” Stopping by his sink, Cantal held out a hand to take my plate.

I clutched the dinnerware closer. “Please, let me. You’ve been such a good host that it’s the least I can do. And the others can help with your chores too. We’ll be done in no time.”

“No need.” Cantal’s tone left no room for argument. “Assisting in the preparation of your meals is one thing, but it is my duty and my pleasure to care for this shrine and the surrounding land as I have for decades. Besides, I have no desire to delegate.”

Odd to turn down help when it was offered, but I didn’t pretend to understand how religion worked. He’d gotten too comfortable being on his own, perhaps. “All right, then… I’ll meet you outside?”

He inclined his head. Passing over the plate, I turned on my heel to fetch my boots from where they sat in the hall. As I bent to collect them, I also took a moment to move the rinsom flower off the floor, which was when Vyrain appeared behind me.

“What’s that?” He nodded toward the splash of red atop my bundle.

“Hm?” I followed his gaze. “Oh, Lu gave me a flower last night.”

“He what?”

“Gift-giving is an essential part of a proper wooing,” Luthri remarked from his spot by the door. Daethie, perched nearby, crossed her arms and gave me a wide, shit-eating grin.

“Is that what’s going on here?” Vyrain’s expression remained unreadable but for the way his jawline bounced as a muscle ticked under the surface.

“It’s a flower,” I reiterated as I pulled my boots on. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Well, in some cultures,” Lu began, rubbing absently at a kink in his neck, “presenting a female with attractive foliage is a way to signal one’s intention to mate?—”

“Read the room, seu bobo.” Shaking my head, I yanked the laces tight and straightened.

Daethie caught my eye on the way to the door and shook her head, still grinning that ridiculous grin.

Yrra gave me a small smile. Heat crept up the sides of my neck.

So help me, if they teased me for entertaining the vaguest idea of a fling with Luthri…

A thought stopped me dead in my tracks. They hadn’t overheard our chat the night before, had they?

It was raining, sure, but the hall was tiny, and sound could travel in what was essentially a big wooden box.

What if we’d woken them up, and they kept quiet out of kindness?

Or, more likely, for the sake of being nosy.

They could have overheard the whole conversation.

I was trying to recall exactly what we’d spoken about when Cantal returned.

“Shall we?” he asked, looking from face to face. Vyrain perked up.

“Sorry, he’s talking to me,” I told him. “I was planning on asking him some things about changing magic while I have the opportunity. You could, uh…”

I racked my brain for something to give the rest of them to do.

“We’ll manage,” Yrra said softly.

“No way we’re sitting around doing nothing,” Daethie announced, clapping her hands.

“I wouldn’t mind another physical competition.

We can pick up some nice fat worms for my lunch while we’re at it.

Let’s go, boys. How about a run to start?

Shirtless, of course. For your sakes—you’ll soak through them in this humidity. ”

“Sounds like a plan. Perhaps we ought to go pantsless too. For our sakes.” Luthri shot me a dazzling smile as he went for the ties of his shirt, deliberately tugging each one out of place.

I dragged my eyes away before I got invested. “You have fun with that.”

Cantal pushed between us to head outside. I followed, stepping onto the wet grass with an unattractive squelch. Shadowy branches crisscrossed over pale gray skies above. Birds sang in the distance, thanking the rain for puddles to bathe in and worms to eat.

Apathetic to nature by this point, Cantal paid no mind, going straight for the statue. A touch of his hand, and it refreshed itself—moisture evaporated in a snap, and dirt sloughed off to leave the paint vivid once more. The old man stooped to rearrange the stones around the base.

“What did you say her name was again?” I asked, figuring that was a good way to break the ice. Given how he and Vyrain got along, he seemed to like talking about his goddess. It made sense, given that he’d devoted his entire life to her.

“Hermenia.” Cantal spoke the word with reverence.

He ran a thumb along the hard fold of her skirt, his gaze becoming distant.

“The Lady of War, patroness of soldiers, justice, and death. Counterpart to Aeil the Mother, patroness of families, love, and life. If you also grew up in Wysalar, you may be more familiar with her.” He paused before adding, “Some say that Hermenia and Aeil were lovers before the Goddess took her consort, Valuen.”

“I’m not really familiar with either,” I confessed, shifting from one foot to the other. “I’m from… farther south. We have different gods there. How do you serve a goddess?”

“Hermenia asks seven things of her followers.” Cantal straightened, pulling one side of his robe open to reveal the writing underneath.

With one wiry finger, he indicated the lines of text that decorated his ribs from breast to stomach.

“‘Love all creatures. Be fair always. Speak the truth. Be generous with what you have been given. Work without complaint. Protect those who cannot protect themselves. If you must take another’s life, be quick, not cruel.’”

He arranged his robe so that it covered him once more. Noticing the way my gaze lingered on his tattoos, he continued. “The Lady of War’s followers serve through action, not words. This is another way I choose to serve: by wearing my commitment for all to see.”

“More power to you.” The phrase didn’t translate well to the common fae tongue, and I got a blank look for my trouble. “Good for you,” I clarified. “Be yourself. That’s good.”

“Yes.” The lines on Cantal’s forehead deepened. He waved me along, and we headed toward the back of the shrine as the others were emerging, shirtless and glorious, from the front. Yrra joined them this time, with Daethie loosing a victory cackle from atop his head.

“Onward!” she crowed, pointing with great enthusiasm.

“See ya, Mar!” Vyrain called.

“Later!” I waved goodbye as they took off jogging toward the woods.

“You seem like good people,” Cantal remarked when I turned my attention back to him.

My eyebrow twitched upward. “I’d like to think we are.”

He watched them go too, as if a part of him did regret going the path of a hermit in the woods. Anyone would miss human interaction, but perhaps serving the Lady of War was not quite as rewarding as he let on. I wouldn’t be able to stand decades of quiet and a meatless diet.