Page 55 of Children of Fallen Gods

We cooked up the squirrels,a poor meal for five warriors who had been traveling all day, but still, I wasn’t about to complain about any quantity or quality of food at this point. I had already downed several unladylike bites when I noticed that the two Wyshraj were waiting, eyes closed, face lifted to the sky. They dragged their pointer fingers to their foreheads, then to their hearts, then to the soil. With each movement, their lips formed soundless words.

Siobhan, Caduan, and I ate silently, watching this. Ishqa, noble as he was, managed to make this look… well, at least somewhat graceful. But watching someone as large and burly as Ashraia go through these movements painted a particularly silly image.

They performed this cycle several times before, finally, opening their eyes.

“Were those prayers?” Caduan asked. No judgement in his voice, just curiosity.

“Yes.” Ishqa looked to me, one eyebrow quirking. “The Sidnee do not pray?”

“I have heard that the Sidnee are a godless people,” Ashraia grumbled.

“We do have gods,” I said, tearing off a chunk of roasted squirrel, “but ours don’t ask us to perform silly dances for them.”

“We make sure that our gods fully see our appreciation for them,” Ishqa replied, smoothly. “And because we speak to them often, our gods gift us with appreciation in kind.”

“Our gods appreciate us just fine.”

Do they now?a jeering voice in the back of my head whispered.Is that why they tainted you?

I pushed the thought away and tore off another chunk of squirrel.

“We need their service now, more than ever.” Ishqa’s gaze went far away, the remnants of his smirk fading. It was the first time I’d seen anything akin to concern, true concern, on his face.

“We cannot rely on the gods to help us,” Caduan said. “I think we’ll just need to help ourselves.”

He barely had picked at his food. The fire haloed his profile, highlighting the severe line of his nose and chin, the serious set of his jaw. He didn’t look up.

Ishqa gave him a look that veered on pity.

“I know that your people, above all, understood the value of spiritual faiths and magics,” he said. “The Stoneheld are known for building the most magnificent temples of any house, and for having the most committed spiritual scholars. In dark times as these, we need their faith more than anything.”

“The temples were beautiful,” Caduan said, quietly. And he paused, as if remembering, a mournful smile at his lips. Then he looked back at the fire, and it was gone. “But when the humans came, they crumbled just as easily as the brothels. And the scholars and the whores ended up in the same graves.”

Well, what was there to say to that? From then on, we ate in silence.

* * *

Long after everyoneelse drifted to sleep, I lay there, eyes wide open, staring at the night sky. It had been decades since I had last slept so far beyond the Pales, and even back then, I was a little Teirness housed in the most luxurious places the world had to offer.

Now? Now, I was alone beneath the sky. I looked up at the stars and had never felt so small, so exposed. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw the bloodied faces of Caduan’s kin.

By the time I heard rustling in the forest, I was grateful for the distraction. My eyes snapped open. Slowly, I rose. The fire was low. Siobhan was asleep, even at rest looking ready to leap into action, lying on her side with her fingers close to the blades that lay beneath her bedding. Ashraia was sprawled out like a sleeping bear, limbs escaping his bedroll at all directions, snoring loudly. And Ishqa was completely still, like the stone carving on a crypt, his hands laid gracefully over the hilt of his sword.

And then, there was an empty bedroll.

I followed the sounds off into the woods. I found Caduan in a clearing. A ball of fire lingered in the center of the clearing, hovering and self-contained — clearly magic, though it occurred to me that I’d never asked if Caduan was a magic speaker. His back was to me. It took me a moment to realize that he held his sword.

I froze. My hand went to the hilt of my own weapon.

“You don’t need to worry.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He peered at me over his shoulder, offering me a half smile. “I have no ill intentions.”

“What are you doing?” My hand was still at my belt. Caduan’s eyes slid down my body, landing there.

“It’s embarrassing, honestly.”

My gaze fell to the ground. Years of training made recognizing patterns in the underbrush second nature, and it took seconds to recognize the pattern of the footsteps in the dirt. The same steps, running back and forth.

Exercises.

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