Page 3 of Jeweler to the Blessed
Though dangerous, I included Alaric’s book collection in the blessing column. My uncle was brave enough to realize the detriment of such thinking. He hoarded banned books like a dragon hoarded gems.
He could be imprisoned for his collection, possibly worse. Generally, I appreciated rules, but Alaric had instilled in me the importance of questioning what didn’t make sense. These books were banned because they spoke of a goddess who held no sway in this city. Deciding for the citizens which goddess they were allowed to worship didn’t make sense to me.
I took a stack to the hidden room and returned to the chair for more.
“Some of these are so clear.” I read a sentence fromChampions of Kaviosaloud. “Hide your fear, lest the Cursed King bring his nightmares.Others make no sense.”
Alaric chuckled, but it was forced. It was the same laugh he used when he dismissed my concern for him—when he told me working for the Blessed wasn’t too bad.
He arched his brow. “Prophecies are never clear. Lines that seem straightforward may not mean what we think.”
Maybe that response went in the curse column. He was baiting me. Whether I believed them to be prophecy or not, I was positive he would teach me something about this passage.
“This one isn’t hiding anything.” I leaned into his trap. It was one of my favorite ways to learn. “The Cursed King is the only Blessed who can wield fear. When he steals fear, he brings forth nightmare magic.”
Different emotions were tied to different magics. Wielding nightmares was something only one Blessed had ever done.
“Scholars would contest several points in your analysis. Do we know that he’s Blessed?” Alaric asked.
I’d been through this book a hundred times, and it hadn’t occurred to me to question whether the Cursed King was Blessed. He was Order’s Champion, the presumptive ruler; of course he was Blessed. Leafing through the pages, I searched carefully for any mention of the adamas gem that would mark him as such. The gem I was now sure the Cursed King didn’t wear.
“Take a guess, Ember. It’s getting late.”
I swallowed. Alaric was intent on teaching me to trust my instincts. “Adamas is never mentioned. He doesn’t wear it to wield magic.”
Alaric nodded, giving me a look I couldn’t decipher. “That is the mark of a champion. They don’t require adamas to use their power.”
I put another stack of books in the storage room. “What do they use?” I hadn’t heard this before, but Alaric knew more about the Sibling Goddesses and their champions than anyone in the city.
“I believe that answer depends on the champion.”
We were back to wholly unsatisfying answers. At least answering one of Alaric’s queries made the world make sense for a moment, even if it raised new questions.
There were so few things in Kavios that I could control. That was one part ofChampions of KaviosI identified with. Themis, the Goddess of Order, summoned theCursed King as her champion. Many considered it an honor, but the choice was not his. I understood the lengths he went to fight against a fate he didn’t choose.
As citizens of Kavios, we couldn’t control the Blessed’s magic or when they preyed upon us. We couldn’t control the earthshakes that continued to make work in the mines more dangerous. We couldn’t control who King Rodric selected in his upcoming ceremony.
At least I could control the risk my immunity presented to myself and my family by leaving, no matter the obstacles to my journey.
A knock sounded on the shop door before I could question Alaric further.
We both froze. In all the mornings I’d spent here, no one ever arrived before I left. Alaric’s eyes widened momentarily, but he was faster than me to find his footing. He rolled his shoulders back and ran his fingers through his golden blond hair, an exact match in color to mine.
“Put the rest away.” He gestured to the remaining books, then tucked his white dress shirt in his dark trousers. The motion highlighted how loose his clothes hung on his thin frame. Alaric worked too hard, my lessons included, making me wonder when he cared for himself.
“Stay back here. I’ll tell whoever it is to return later.” He spoke with a cool swiftness, a contrast to the encouragement I usually found in his patient tone. This intrusion disturbed him more than he wanted to let on. He spun the gold ring on his middle finger with his thumb, proving his nerves were much more than they appeared and snapping me to attention.
I hurried to complete the task. “Sure, Uncle.”
Another forceful knock sounded before Alaric parted the curtain. This time, the clink of a gem against the glass window front was evident to my jeweler-trained ears. It was almostcertainly a Blessed at the door. Alaric’s shoulders raised slightly as he hesitated, undoubtedly drawing the same conclusion.
He turned to face me. “If I can’t stop them, lock yourself in the storage room.”
With no pause for my acknowledgment, he swiftly parted the curtain, a smile plastered to his face for his early customer.
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