Page 44 of The Queens and the Kings
It all depended on calculations.
Hard ones.
Pedrcouldtell Einar about the Arcanist of Souls and the year of time he offered each soul that passed into his halls, but Pedr never had told anyone before. There were some truths Arcanists didn’t share, and anything about the Arcanist of Souls contained those truths. He had a vested interest in keeping human interest away from Arcanists and their ways. Except . . . he didn’t know if he could keep the secret. Not inthissituation. Or, in retrospect, if he should.
Did he owe the truth to Einar?
Not really.
But . . . kind of.
When another five minutes passed, Henrik stepped forward. Pedr put a hand on his shoulder, shook his head.
“No.”
Henrik hesitated, but Pedr strode past him and stopped at Einar’s side. A barren whisper of, “I can’t do it,” issued from Einar’s lips. His knees shook. “I’m going to jump with her. Leave me in the water. Don’t come back for me. Promise?”
Pedr folded his hands behind his back. Shite, but now hehadto tell him. It would be a mistake, but he’d do it. Because he wished someone could have given him hope, however narrow. An answer, however dangerous.
Pedr rocked back on his heels and said, “Fine. Do what you want, and I’ll respect your request. But know that if you take the coward’s way out, you’ll miss other ways to be with Agnes again.”
Einar’s head snapped to the side.
“What?”
“You have options.”
“You’re mad.”
“Definitely.” Pedr drew in a deep breath. “You asked me a few days ago about Arcanists and magic. You’re an intelligent man, so I wager you remember.”
Einar sent him an incredulous stare. “You refused to answer.”
“I know.”
“What does that have to do with anything right now?”
Pedr cleared his throat. Wind breezed by, providing a cover when he spoke so only Einar could hear. “Suppose Arcanists are real. Suppose there are four of them, and suppose that one of those Arcanists is called the Arcanist of Souls.”
Pedr’s nose twitched. He cleared his throat again. Shite, but this was uncomfortable. Awkward, too. Nothing barred Pedr from telling the truth about his position as Arcanist of the Sea, except his own morals.
Pedr ignored the growing astonishment on Einar’s face as he continued, gaze fixed ahead.
“And suppose that, if a recently departed soul chose accordingly, they would choose to stay for one year on Elestra before their soul departed to the afterlife and became inaccessible.Ifthat soul had a reason to stay. A reason to hope that they could see their loved ones again before the final crossing. One might call lovea hopeful tether.”
Pedr nodded to the water. He didn’t look at Agnes or the canvas. He had steadily avoided her since it happened because when he looked at Agnes, he saw a flash of dark curls, a wickedsmile, and felt the bottomless hole of despair that had chased him around for fifteen years.
“And let’s say,” he clipped out quickly, needing this awful moment over with, “that approaching the Arcanist of Souls is possible—should you have a friend who is also an Arcanist—and that a deal over said soulmightbe struck. Might,” he added, risking a glance at Einar. “The improbability of it cannot be understated.”
Einar stared at him, wide-eyed.
“You mean it?”
“Yes. But you can’t do anything if you don’t let her go.”
They locked stares.
“Can I find her again?”
