Page 94 of Between Fear and Favor

Dickey walked past us, following what I now knew to be a shoreline. When I realized he was trying to lure my injured, panicked mare to the water’s edge, a surprised chuckle knocked loose from me. “She’s a b-better s-swimmer than me.” A strong gust of wind tore over us, and my shaking grew more forceful. Dewalt seemed to move on instinct, adjusting to the wind to shelter me.

“Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s get somewhere warm.”

And then he was gathering me up in his arms, so deliberate and careful in his motions that I swallowed hard, affection rolling hot and heavy up my throat. I forced myself to stifle it. He placed me atop his horse before wrapping a dry cloak around my shoulders—Dickey’s I supposed.

“Where are the others?”

“Fletcher, ah, Fletcher needed tending. They’re in a cave near the road,” he answered.

“W-will he be all right?” I asked, and it took him a moment to weigh his words before Dewalt nodded, his mouth a grim line. The hesitation tainted his answer. “Why did they attack us?” I asked.

“Penellion’s men liked to talk when they drank,” he explained, and if I wasn’t so tired, I would have wept. We kept paying for my mistake.

There was a loud thrashing as Petunia clambered out of the lake, and I gasped when her front legs splayed out as she was unable to find purchase.

“Fuck,” Dewalt murmured.

“What? She’ll be fine, r-right?” I asked, even as I watched her struggle to gather her limbs beneath her, favoring her front right leg. He didn’t answer me, picking up his sword from the ground where he must have discarded it to jump in after me. “Is she lame? Are you g-going to k-k—are you going to kill her?” My whole body shook.

“She took an arrow and r-ran for the b-better part of an hour before f-falling into f-frigid water. I’d be surprised if she w-wasn’t.” Dewalt’s body shuddered. His hair was sopping, just as mine was, but his dripped right into his collar. He looked older than usual, staring at the horse with a deep frown. My useless mind wandered, fuzzy curiosity about what he might look like as he aged, before I realized what he meant to do. The grip on his sword tightened as he took a step forward, and I couldn’t let that happen.

“B-but she survived!” I argued. “She’s resilient. You c-cannot kill her.” I struggled to dismount, but Dewalt put his free hand on my leg, stopping me.

“Nor, I’m n-not going to k-killuswhile we argue over it.” He tilted his head as he looked up at me, and there was a plea behind his dark eyes. He didn’t want to put her down either. I nodded, chest tight, giving him permission. When he turned away from me, walking toward the mare, I felt my indignance melt away. It wasn’t as if he wanted to do it. We weren’t capable of caring for her, and this would be a mercy. Hidden by his jokes and his intimidating strength, he had a soft heart—I knew that now.

Instead of arguing, I murmured a prayer to Rhia, asking her to look after Petunia on her journey to the eternal lands. Perhaps it was my exhaustion, but speaking to the goddess felt natural. I frowned, irritated with myself for how much I missed that ease. Despite my anger with the gods, my whole identity had been built on service to them. Without that, part of me had been missing. Did I still need them? I decided I would think about it later, when I wasn’t struggling to stay awake. While waiting, my eyelids grew heavy, and I watched Dewalt through narrowed eyes as he pointed toward the darkening sky.

Chapter 44

EMMELINE

Rain’s breathshad finally grown slow as the sky had darkened into the deepest night. Slowly, I pulled the blankets off my body.

After sending the dragons to Elora, I’d insisted upon stopping by the temple to help Malva heal those still recovering from their injuries. But Rain had dragged me away quickly as my shadows had climbed over my wrists and up my arms. He hadn’t wanted me to scare anyone. Though very few viewed Ciarden’s divinity as malevolent, Rain had been right to remove me from the bedsides of all those who had been injured. Even if for my own self preservation.

I had harmed so many people. There were soldiers who had been injured in the Supreme’s pit; crush injuries and broken bones abounded. But the scent of burnt flesh had seared into my bloodstream. It was all my fault, and I couldn’t even do anything to help them with their wounds—not with my divinity in its uncontrollable state. Leaving had been the right thing to do.

Exhaustion made my limbs ache, but instead of rest, I’d found endless racing thoughts. I’d pretended to sleep, closing my eyes and focusing on my breathing, so I could sneak away.

I shut myself in the bathing chamber and tugged on a pair of discarded breeches I’d left beside the tub. Rain’s shirt was a bit large on me, but it brought me comfort to wear. Not wanting to change, I simply tucked it into the breeches, ignoring the strange bump it made on my lower belly. Lacing my boots before breathing deep, I opened a rift. I flinched at the noise, hoping Rain wouldn’t hear, and I stepped through.

Though far quieter than it was during the day, the Myriad temple I’d turned into a healing base was still bustling with activity. Healers and novices moved around the space, all tender efficiency as they treated their patients. I desired to help, even if it meant changing out dirtied supplies. If I couldn’t heal them without my divinity staking its claim on my mental state, I’d be useful elsewhere.

“Your Majesty, what are you doing here?” Jaehren surprised me right before I could step from the foyer into the organized chaos. He was sitting on a bench beside the double doors, eating a piece of bread as he drank from a flask.

“I’m here to help,” I said, about to move past, and he cleared his throat. Nodding at the seat beside him, his furry brows raised in expectation. Annoyance flickered within me. He’d been right—about the destruction I’d wrought upon the city as I rode Lux. And the disappointment he’d shared had felt like a stone in my stomach. Still though, other than Lord Durand I didn’t have any allies on the council. I thought it best not to irritate him further.

“I don’t think it wise to go in there just now,” he said, thoughtful as he picked around a stale section of his bread. “Give them time.”

“Who?” I asked, but shame flared brightly in my veins because I already had an idea.

“The healers,” he said, swigging from his flask before offering it to me. I declined. “They’re just overwhelmed right now. All this wasn’t what they’d anticipated.”

I bit my lip, looking down at my hands. With determined concentration, I kept the shadows from appearing. “I suppose I should leave,” I mumbled.

“Or perhaps you should pray?” he offered. “If the gods have sought to burden you with their blessings, I think they were prepared to give guidance as well.”

I tempered my scowl a moment too late as the old man laughed. Inhaling deeply, I allowed his idea to take root. “Which one do you prefer?” I asked. “Aonara?”

---