Page 13 of Between Wrath and Mercy

“You…were in the bathroom together?” She raised one eyebrow slowly as she studied me. Understanding what she was insinuating, I scrambled to defend myself.

“No! I mean, yes. I was there first, and I didn’t lock the door. I didn’t realize. Anyway, I just finished, so he’s probably in there now. Give him a minute.”

Lavenia, thankfully, didn’t say anything else and avoided looking me in the eye after. She padded over to a bag against the wall and started digging through clothing. I hadn’t noticed it there the night before, and it dawned on me. This was the room she had been staying in, and I barged in on her last night; she hadn’t even mentioned it or asked me to leave.

“Why didn’t you tell me this was your room? I’d have found somewhere else to sleep.” No wonder Rainier was in the other room, sharing the suite with his sister. She shrugged.

“I knew you wouldn’t want to be alone. I planned to come to you wherever you ended up.” My heart ached, and I felt a small tinge of pain in my nose. She had always been so kind.

“Thank you.” I meant it.

I heaved a sigh, found my boots, and slipped them on. I was going to have to get over this. I’d been friends with Rainier for years before everything went to hell. I needed to figure out how to interact with him as an adult. We were so far removed from our past it was practically a different life, and he was my best shot at finding Elora. It didn’t matter what had been said or left unsaid between us. It didn’t matter that he was helping me out of obligation or guilt because of Lucia’s death. All that mattered was finding Elora.

Anhourlater,Laveniaand I were waiting in the entryway as Rainier discussed our plans with the royal guard. While we were searching in Mira, they’d cut west across the Whispering Wood, headed toward the capital. I wondered why none of the guard were coming with us. Did Rainier expect us to be able to free her ourselves, or did he think Elora wasn’t even in Mira anymore? I shuddered at the thought, no matter how likely it was. If Elora was already in Folterra, her rescue would become much more complicated. Taking a Vestian-born Beloved into their territory was an act of aggression, and King Soren would have input in how to handle it. My mouth went dry. I wasn’t sure what King Soren would want, but the idea of war had never phased the old man. I didn’t want to think about what that could mean for the people of Vesta, but what I did know was my daughter would become a bargaining chip. I would not let that happen. I would figure out a way to get her back myself, even if it meant going to the Folterran capital myself. Though the appeal of sneaking into Darkhold was nonexistent, I would do whatever was needed to get my daughter back.

Dewalt sauntered over to us. He’d been Rainier’s best friend as long as I’d known them and had been arrogant for all of them. I’d hoped age would have matured him, but from what Lavenia told me last night, I knew that wasn’t the case in the slightest. His hair was loose and hung down in a shiny, soft wave, nearly as long as mine. The last time I’d seen him, it barely hit his shoulders. It suited him.

“Heard about your little bathroom run-in this morning,” he smirked at me. His grin was wiped off his face a fraction of a second later after Lavenia landed an elbow straight into his gut. I chose not to dignify his insinuation with a response, but I felt my face turning red. I was a married woman, let alone the fact that my daughter was missing. As if I could possibly entertain such inane ideas. The sheer fact that Dewalt or Lavenia could have thought any of this struck a nerve. Had I not made my feelings and intentions clear enough all those years ago? Whatever we’d had, which wasn’t much it turned out, had been obliterated when Lucia died.

“Are we ready?” The prince, thankfully, had missed Dewalt’s comment. I nodded. I’d already grabbed my bag from the stable where I ensured Bree would be cared for and forced breakfast down my throat at Nana’s insistence. The prince looked to Dewalt and Lavenia, both equally serious now. Lavenia’s mouth was closed tightly in a straight line. She was all business. She seemed to have taken on a certain sadness ever since I spoke of Elora the night before. I wondered if my depiction of Elora, so like her old friend, had affected her more than she let on.

Rainier nodded. He rubbed his hands together as if to warm them up and then pushed them straight out in front of him. There, in the entryway of my father’s house, was an opening into a forest, dappled with light. Dewalt stepped through first, then Lavenia. I took a deep breath, pushing the nerves down into the pit of my stomach, and walked into the rift, Rainier following closely behind. Once he stepped through, the rift closed.

I scanned our surroundings, confused. We were standing on a path in the middle of the woods. The trees above us had bent over it, creating a tunnel of orange and red leaves. I’d never seen anything like it. I knew when the light grew stronger in the afternoon, it would look like fire. It was loud in the way only a forest can be; birdsong and a distant stream burbled nearby while two squirrels chased each other through the foliage. It wasn’t the type of loud that indicated we were anywhere near a port city. Wherever we were wasn’t Mira.

“You missed.”

“No, I didn’t.” Rainier’s voice was flat, maybe a bit annoyed. There was a bench on the path behind him, and he walked over to it and sat, pulling a small canteen of water out of his pack. I blinked at him for a second. We were clearly not in Mira, but allegedly he hadn’t missed. When he continued to sit and not explain, I glanced at Lavenia, and she chuckled.

“Mira is too far for him to rift us there in one go; he has to rest.” He hadn’t ever tried to rift us far in the past, but I didn’t ever realize he had a limit. Since conduits didn’t have endless access to divinity, it all made sense. There was a give and take. Like my headaches.

He glared at his sister, who just laughed again.

“I don’t have to; I prefer to. I’m more accurate when I have time to rest in between.” His glance darted over to me when he mentioned accuracy. I tried to keep my face empty of thought or reaction, and instead, I focused on the small statues next to the bench. There were four, waist-high, and they depicted each of the gods. Along with coins, they held water and a bit of debris in their cupped hands. A divine statuary. A place for prayer.

“Where are we? Near Ardian?” I tried to think of locations between Ravemont and Mira.

“Just outside it,” he confirmed, taking another swig of water. I nodded. Rainier had to focus on different locations and picture them to open up the rift to step through. He once described it as folding something in half, forming a wrinkle in reality. He’d been here before, and likely recently since he remembered it well enough to rift to it.

It was beautiful here, so it wasn’t surprising. Looking to the east, the path quickly turned, but, to the west, the tunnel of leaves stretched as far as I could see. The bench and statues seemed out of place in the middle of the path, but maybe it was intentional. Secluded and beautiful, it would be a nice place for reflection.

I knelt in front of the statues. Hanwen and Ciarden, the gods of wrath and dark, were on the right, their heads tilted downwards and their faces grim. They were indistinguishable from each other in the form of these stone statues, but in the colorful Myriad texts, they couldn’t be more different. Hanwen was always depicted with bronzed muscles and golden hair, while Ciarden had skin of ivory and hair of the blackest night. To the left were Rhia and Aonara, the goddesses of fertility and light. Their heads were tilted upwards, and their faces radiant. These two, like their counterparts, could not be more different: Aonara with pale skin and white hair, and Rhia with dark, umber skin and long, black curls. Yet, they appeared the same when etched out in limestone.

I’d never been religious or prayed to any of them, even though Lucia had been Aonara’s favored. I believed she prayed to Aonara, but we never discussed it. A niggling feeling in the back of my head told me maybe Lucia would be alive, or Elora wouldn’t have been taken if I’d just humbled myself to pray. I felt my breath hitch in my throat. I reached into my pocket, hoping to find a coin or something of value to place in the outstretched goddess’s palms, but I had nothing. I sank back on my heels with a sigh. I supposed if they were truly real, they’d understand if I didn’t have anything to offer other than the intense helplessness and sadness I felt.

“Here,” A warm hand was on my shoulder. I hadn’t even heard him get up, but Rainier held out a coin and pressed it into my palm. I willed myself not to burst into tears when I made eye contact, seeing the look of sorrow and compassion flooding his features. He nodded and made his way back to the bench, giving me privacy.

I placed the coin into Aonara’s outstretched palms and bowed my head.

Please.

No other thoughts came into my head as much as I tried. I tried to think of a compelling argument to convince a god to intercede on my behalf. But all I could do was beg. On my knees, I pleaded, and I felt tears start to roll down my face. I didn’t care.

I wondered, not for the first time, if Lucia could hear me. If she truly was Aonara’s favored, it stood to reason praying to Aonara might reach her. I hadn’t visited her grave since the burial, hadn’t tried to talk to her all these years. I couldn’t. She died because of me. She could have done so much more with her life than I ever did with mine. But Elora was my chance to make it up to her. My chance to show Lucia I’d still done something good.

I opened my eyes and realized the sun had risen, the light breaking through branches to illuminate the statues in front of me. We needed to go. I would not weep for my daughter; I would find her. Wiping my face and sniffling, I stood up and turned toward the others. Dewalt and Lavenia had walked down the path a bit, but when they saw I was standing, they headed back toward us. Rainier was still on the bench, watching me as if I might break in half. I felt hot anger rise in me. I didn’t want his pity or compassion; they’d only slow me down and cause another breakdown I didn’t have the time for.

“Did you get enough beauty rest? Can we go now?”

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