Page 62 of The Last Slayer
With a small kitchen and a table for two, the cottage looked comfortable enough for a single
woman. Something about the place—a gut feeling—told me that Nathanael had created it just for Leh. I still couldn’t understand how someone who claimed to be my mother could be having an affair with a man who wanted me dead. And I didn’t understand how a man who wanted—apparently needed—to kill me could be in love with my mother so much so that he’d rather retreat than end the fight then and there. He had to have known that he would prevail if he’d used his full strength against me and Leh.
After all, it was he who was credited with the slayers’ extinction. No dragonlord before him had been able to convince the others to join in a war against their archenemies. So what were one extra undead slayer and her brat to him?
Leh went to the kitchen and snapped her fingers. A teakettle began boiling water and a spoon scooped up dried herbs and tossed them inside a steeper.
“My special blend,” she said. “It should help calm your nerves.”
“Thank you.”
Neither of us was eager to approach the real topic. I sat down at the table and waited for the tea. The situation was both completely normal and utterly surreal. I caught myself drumming my fingers and immediately stopped.
Should I just blurt out what I wanted? Should I ask her why she had abandoned me? Who had fathered me?
Leh placed a steaming cup on the table. The physical labor of it surprised me. She could’ve snapped her fingers again.
She broke the silence first. “Did Ramiel bring you here?”
“Not really.” The steam rose and warmed and moistened my face. “I had to use Nahemah’s magic.”
“I see.”
“He didn’t want me to go to the Lunar Garden, but we didn’t really have any other choice.” I took a sip of the brew. It wasn’t my favorite type of tea—I like mine sweet—but it wasn’t bad either.
Leh pursed her lips and tapped the table top with the knuckle of her middle finger, the motion of her wrist slow and deliberate. “I can imagine. Ramiel and Nahemah have a history, and he knows her well.”
“What do you mean?” Had they been lovers? I suddenly felt extremely inadequate.
“It doesn’t matter.” Her clear violet eyes gazed into mine. “Ashera, regardless of what Ramiel—or anyone else—would like you to believe, you are neither dragonlord nor slayer. That makes certain dragonlords…nervous. Perhaps even afraid. They have a visceral horror of miscegenation.” Leh’s look reflected an odd mixture of contempt and regret. “The Advisors believe you’ll destroy the current hierarchy.”
“So it’s true? It’s been preordained?”
She blinked once, very slowly, like a cat in the sun. “Nothing is preordained, my child. Otherwise, why live?”
“But the ancient texts said the Advisors are never wrong.”
“Are the texts of your day never wrong?”
That stopped me for a moment. “But…they’re ancient.”
“And packed with self-fulfilling prophecy. Have you ever wondered why certain people succeed and others don’t? There is always luck, but if you believe, truly believe, that you’ll never accomplish anything, you won’t even try.”
I frowned. It was my philosophy as well, but when the supernatural realm merged with mine so thoroughly and the Triumvirate of Madainsair decided to kill me—despite my best efforts to avoid getting tangled up in their affairs—my feelings on predestination seemed a little suspect. Maybe certain things were just meant to be. Otherwise I wouldn’t even be here, talking to the last slayer. My mother.
“Sounds awfully simple,” I said.
Leh smiled. “Does it seem that way to you? If it were simple, everyone would create his own destiny. Making your way in the world is supposed to be difficult. Divination is nothing more than a glimpse, seeing at most a few possibilities out of millions. It’s never absolute. I know, for it’s an art that originated from and belongs to my people. Don’t let what the Advisors said sow seeds of doubt.” She took my hand. Her skin was butter soft and hot, almost feverish, against mine. “You must collect three heartstones. The first one I’ll give you, the stone of love. You’ll also need the stones of vengeance and compassion. These are the three characteristics required in order to rule well.”
I went still. Was she looking for what I thought she was? Because the last thing I wanted was to wreak vengeance on her behalf. “Seems like an interesting mix,” I said carefully.
She shrugged as if she hadn’t heard the caution in my voice. “Ideally, you will be able to balance everything. Compassion will make you merciful. Vengeance will make you stand up for the weak and for justice. Love will make you understand how to use both to better control yourself.” She brushed a loose tendril of my hair behind my ear. Such a simple gesture, but it made me want to lean into her and bask in the comfort only mothers can give. “Get the heartstones from those who are most known for their vengeance and compassion.”
I nodded, unable to speak. Her conviction that I would use such unimaginable power properly…well, it humbled me. I’d never considered myself “good.” I just did a job and got paid for it. I was insufferably vain about my skills and stubborn to boot. Hell, I doubted there was a single noble bone in my body.
“The one true impiety is indifference,” Leh said. “Never forget that.”
I put down my cup and nodded again. I felt calmer, although my heart was still doing a funny little dance. I took a deep breath, gathering my courage, but it didn’t help. Once I left, I might not be able to return, and I wanted to know.
