Inkmistress (Of Fire and Stars 0.5)(83)
“The Fatestone,” I said. My birthright.
My mother nodded. “It was made from the last of his blood, and enchanted with his dying breath.”
“If I can’t find it, all is lost,” I said. “Please tell me where I can find Atheon.”
“First, tell me why you seek the power of the Fatestone,” she said. “I know much of your story as told to me by the dead, but I want to hear it from you.”
“The boar king is expecting a challenger,” I said. “She does not have a manifest bound to the gods, and it is all because of me.” The story of Ina and me poured out, of how I’d selfishly tried to change our future and destroyed everything instead. “It’s my fault she doesn’t have a bond to one of the Six. I must correct the mistake that made her a monster.”
The shadow god considered my words. “I have felt the boar king’s soul calling to me in the distance from time to time. It would not take much to push him close enough for me to grasp. Perhaps you will be the one to decide his fate.”
“What does that mean?” I already carried too much responsibility on my shoulders.
“Whether you change the past or the future, the ripples will be felt throughout all of time. Are you prepared to take on that power?” my mother asked.
“Yes.” I wasn’t ready in the least, but what other choice did I have?
“Then let me tell you how you will find Atheon. First, look for a thread of magic that feels like yours. Like calls to like. Second, listen to your heart. Third, know that your blood is the key. Remember—fate is a slippery and changeable thing. You are one of the few with the power to change it. Be wise and be well, my child.” She touched my cheek with a gentle hand.
“But wait—where do I find the thread of magic?” I asked. She’d left me with a riddle, not an answer.
The darkness surrounding us gathered until a new cloak formed around her body. She pulled up her hood and the shadows fell to pieces and dissipated into nothingness, taking her with them. The emptiness of the Great Temple felt vast enough to swallow the world.
I wiped the last tears from my face. Fate had led me to live up to my birthright, even without intending to. Now I had to embrace it no matter how much it hurt.
CHAPTER 31
I ARRIVED BACK IN MY ROOM TO FIND TWO MAIDS waiting for me in a state of near panic—they’d been sent an hour before to prepare me for supper with the king. The two of them stuffed me into a borrowed formal dress, used the braids done by the clerics as the basis for a more complex arrangement, then fussed and fretted over my tearstained face, powdering me until I sneezed. I spent the whole time lost in my own mind, haunted by memories of my mother’s face.
I was seated next to Eywin for the meal as usual. An empty chair on his other side vanished before the second course, but I knew it had been meant for Hal.
“Where is he?” I asked Eywin.
He looked at me strangely. It wasn’t as if Hal and I had often been apart in the past weeks.
“He said he was leaving. He didn’t say why or for how long,” Eywin said, seemingly unconcerned.
Worry crept in at the edges of my anger, but I tried not to give in. I’d told him I never wanted to see him again. What did I expect? I hated the way he’d lied. That was what I needed to hang on to. I couldn’t let myself think of how he’d made breakfast for me day after day, how he’d taken care of me in fights, or the way he’d made me laugh in Eywin’s workshop. I couldn’t dwell on how it had felt to trace the angular line of his jaw or to kiss the dimple in his cheek. I needed to stay focused on finding Atheon.
Still, I couldn’t help needing to confirm what Eywin told me. I knocked on the door to Hal’s room after dinner, but there was no answer. And when I tested the knob, the door swung open to reveal a chamber that showed no signs he’d ever been there.
That empty room crushed my heart like a vise.
I told myself I didn’t care.
Every day after that, the battle between Ina and the king felt more inevitable. Though I did not see Ina again, her presence in Corovja was palpable even in the castle. Outsiders poured into Corovja in droves. No one spoke about the challenger in polite company, but rumors spread quickly among the servants. I even caught one of my maids tugging her sleeve down to cover a white ribbon tied around her wrist. Without asking, I knew exactly what that meant and who she supported. She’d gazed at me with panic in her eyes, but I shrugged and said nothing. I had sworn to support the king, but that didn’t mean my choice was right for everyone.
Sleep stopped seeming particularly important. My days were spent in the workshop, and at night I used the king’s token to sneak out a side gate and stalk the streets of Corovja in my shadow cloak. No matter how deeply I probed with my Sight open, I couldn’t find the thread of magic my mother said would lead me to Atheon. I didn’t know what my mother had meant when she said to listen to my heart. If the magic I was following felt like my own, shouldn’t it have been one of the brightest things in my Sight?
The ache of Hal’s absence grew the longer we were apart, showing no signs of healing over. Still, I refused to allow myself look for him. Instead, every time he crossed my mind, I let the feeling burn to galvanize me. I would fight him, Ina, and Nismae that much more fiercely knowing they all deserved it.