All the Stars and Teeth(107)



Sorrow holds Father by the shoulders. I struggle to look at his pain. It’s too raw. Too overwhelming.

“That’s why I’ve failed you. I never wanted you to see me as a fearful king.” Somehow his voice is calm. “But that’s precisely what I’ve been. As strong as our magic is, we’re no match for the kingdom as a whole, and we’d be even less of a match if Arida’s magic was divided. I tried to quiet Zudoh and keep them at bay without Visidia realizing what I was doing.”

Part of me wants to cover my ears, or cover his mouth so he can’t say another word. Because all my life, I’ve wanted to make my father proud. I wanted to be just like him.

The King of Visidia. The High Animancer.

My father.

But he’s not the man I thought he was. The man before me is a coward, not a king.

“My father often told me that, one day, someone would try to come for our power,” he continues. “He taught me to prove myself as an animancer, just as you were meant to do the night of your birthday, and then to never draw too much attention to my magic again; to practice my skills, but only ever demonstrate them to the prisoners executed late at night when all of Arida sleeps. He taught me to be strong, but to rule from afar, just as his father did before him. If I didn’t interfere with Visidia too much, the islands were supposed to take care of themselves. I was only to step up and be loud when there was something I could easily do to further my glory.”

Like protecting the mermaids.

“What about Kerost?” I ask. “I’ve been there, Father. I’ve seen the damage done. If you knew, how could you not help them?” A moment ago I was hot with rage, yet my body has thoroughly numbed in this place. The echo of our voices is the only sound to fill the abyss, and slowly I begin to understand where Father’s taken me.

This is soul magic far beyond anything I can do. Somehow, he’s tamed his magic enough to bring me here, into the personal space of his own soul.

I stare around the abyss—at the stark white plumes that seek to shred his soul apart and leave nothing but emptiness in their wake—and wonder if this is what my own soul looks like. Shredded and peeling, but still pretending to be whole.

“They wanted to learn Valukan magic, Amora. If we permitted that, then others would begin to practice whichever magic they’d like.” His voice trembles on its hinges, as though he’s struggling to maintain a hold on his words. As though he’s struggling to maintain belief in them. “The people would grow stronger than us. We’d open ourselves up to anarchy.”

“We could learn other magics, too,” I argue. “If our family has always been worried about not being strong enough to rule, then perhaps we’re onto something.” I grind my feet into the solid nothingness beneath me, hating what he admits. Hating that, despite it all, I’d still hoped that he would have had an honorable reason for what he had done. That he could still be who I believed he was.

“You told me we kept Arida’s magic to ourselves because it was dangerous.” Each word grinds out of my throat, raw and painful. “You said we were supposed to keep others from studying multiple magics because it would corrupt their souls, not because we’re afraid of our own people being strong. How much of my life was a lie, Father? Tell me the truth—did you know all this time how Aridian magic truly came to be? Did you know about Cato?”

Finally, he looks at me, but it’s not with the harshness I was expecting. Father’s lips lift into a smile, though the ends of them wilt with sadness he fails to hide.

“I did,” he admits. Two words, and it’s like he’s struck me across the face. “I told you already, I’ve been a fearful ruler, avoiding issues until they knocked on my door. This is why I kept you on Arida for all these years. I never wanted you to see what I had done.

“You’ve always been dutiful,” he continues, “and smart as a whip. I knew if I took you with me to travel, it wouldn’t be long until you figured out my secrets. And I was right.” All traces of a smile are gone. Father closes the space between us and takes one of my fallen curls, tucking it behind my ear. “The only thing I’ve done right by Visidia is give them you—my fearless, relentless daughter. I gave them a powerful animancer; a princess who will rule this kingdom with the bravery I could never find.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Kaven cursed me. I’m magicless. Visidia deserves someone who can take care of them. Who will keep them safe. They deserve better than either of us.”

He laughs. It’s a gentle sound that tears through the abyss and eats at its corners. The edges of our constructed world begin to fade. Heat prickles at my skin.

“My brilliant girl, magicless or not, you are here. You fight for this kingdom. You bleed for this kingdom.” Father touches my hands, and I draw them back with a wince. Blood once again mars my scarred palms. “They deserve more than me, you’re right. But you? You were made to rule Visidia, as I was made to give you a kingdom.”

“I don’t want it.” The words rip out of me, as though they’re tearing my own soul. I don’t know if they’re a lie or the truth, but they burn deep in my chest. “Our blood destroyed Visidia! How am I to rule a kingdom we’ve built by destroying others?” My voice falters. “I can’t forgive you for this.”

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