Page 59 of Children of Fallen Gods

Perhaps I had managed to avoid the worst of a battle once. But I would have to do it again, and again, and again.

The thought sickened me. As it was, I already felt the hot blood of those that I had killed staining my hands. By the end of the meeting, I could barely breathe. Not that I allowed myself to show anything other than calm confidence.

When we finished, Zeryth was the first to leave, and slowly the others filed out of the room too. But I remained, walking the library. Every inch of it was packed with books or plants or archeological specimens, every piece of white wall covered with tapestries or paintings.

I paused at one display of insects mounted on little golden stilts. There were moths and enormous spiders, caterpillars and shiny, colorful beetles. The one that caught my attention was a small butterfly, wings glinting with faded flecks of gold. It reminded me of the one that Kira had shown Max, all those years ago.This one looks too pretty to be a part of your collection,Max had told her. Words I could remember so clearly that it felt like they’d been my own.

I wondered if this had all been for her. Perhaps it had been one of her parents’ many efforts to avoid more live insects in the house.

“The Atrivez butterfly.” A smooth, accented voice came from behind me. “Beautiful. Extinct now, of course, like all magically-sensitive creatures.”

I turned to see Iya approaching.

“They used to say they were impossible to kill, because they were so skilled at sensing danger,” he said.

My eyebrow twitched. “Perhaps this one was not so good at it,” I said, and Iya let out a short laugh.

“Perhaps not.”

There was a brief silence, and I looked up to see him regarding me with a wrinkle between his brows.

“How are those that came here from Threll?” he asked. “Are they settling well?”

I blinked. Perhaps my surprise showed on my face, because he chuckled and said, “Please don’t tell me that I’m the first to ask about them. Not that it would surprise me. Ara is a self-centered country.”

The truth was, no one seemed to give any thought to the refugees beyond mild annoyance.

“It is a big change,” I said. “But at least they are safe. Still, there are many more that need help.”

“And the Orders have demanded such a high cost from you, to give it to them.”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure how much Iya knew about my Blood Pact — about Reshaye. But the weight of his gaze told me enough.

“I believed in the Orders, once, for what they were intended to be,” he said. “An organization that stood for all Wielders in the world, independent of any nation, no matter where the Towers stood. And perhaps once I thought I could guide it back to that light, from within. I’m ashamed to say I’ve grown tired and lazy. But…” His head cocked, slightly. “It is nice, to see someone so young who is still willing to try.”

If that was supposed to be an encouragement, it felt like a somewhat weak one. But, though his words were calm and his tone oddly disaffected, I could sense that they were genuine.

“People like me have always had to fight,” I said. “It’s easy to abandon the dream of easy victory when it was never an option at all.”

Iya let out a wry chuckle.

“I suppose that is true,” he said, and before I could respond, he was drifting away, as if the conversation was simply over.

* * *

When I got backto my room, a letter was on my pillow. My heart leapt when I saw my name rendered in handwriting I now knew as well as my own. I tore it open and unfolded it, and despite myself — despite everything — I smiled, my chest suddenly warm.

Tisaanah,

Tell me you’re alright, you wonderful idiot.

Love,

Max.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew that “love” was a late addition, Max’s attempt at communicating what he didn’t know how to paint in written words. And that was funny to me, because this letter held more affection than pages of flowery language ever could.

It was always so easy, after all, to feel Max’s love. It radiated from him like the warmth of his skin. He didn’t need to say it. A brush of my hand.I love you.A conspiratorial half smile.I love you. A wrinkle of concern between his brows.I love you.

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