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“No, I think I’m ok to continue.” I said, after thinking about it. I was tired, but I felt good. Better than I had in a long time. He smiled at me. Not a smirk, or a sneer, but a real smile. I wasn’t sure if I had ever seen him actually smile before.
“I’m impressed. I thought for sure you would have given me a harder time about this.”
I shrugged. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you,” I barely had the energy to keep waking up each day. His brow creased, and I felt his aura run over mine. It almost felt like it was trying to console me. ‘Don’t give up,’ it seemed to say, and my own aura shuddered in response.
“Maybe not but look at what you’ve accomplished. You just made quick work of a three-hour hike without even trying. Imagine if you put your mind to it, what else you could do.” He grinned at me again, “You might even be able to fly.”
I frowned. I had flown. That day on the docks, after I had watched Clair die in my arms. I had levitated into the air and -
“Hey,” Amon’s voice interrupted my thoughts, and I came crashing back to the present to find him watching me intently. “Where did you go just now?”
I shoved the painful memories away and shook my head.
“It’s nothing.” I muttered, turning on my heel and making my way up the mountain. He easily caught up and kept my pace.
“It might help to talk about it.” He said, and I glared at him. I was not going to talk about it. Least of all, with him.
“If you want to talk about something, why don’t you tell me what a Bond-Breaker is.” I expected him to brush me off, but to my surprise he answered.
“It’s my sword.” He pulled it out of its sheath. I eyed the blade, unable to help feeling curious. It reminded me of my aura. It seemed to be made of the blackness that was space, galaxies and star clusters winked up at me from the surface of the blade. If you looked at it too long, it began to feel like an optical illusion. It stopped looking like a sword and started looking like a slash in the fabric of reality that allowed you to peek into the universe beyond.
“It was awarded to me by the Titan Frira when I completed the Quickening. When you complete your Quickening, you too may be gifted something powerful. Though not everyone is given a gift. I suppose Frira feels that if a daemon leaves with their lives it is gift enough.”
“Kasha mentioned that before. The Quickening.” I was starting to feel out of breath from the climb. The incline wasn’t steep, but it was endless.
“It is a coming-of-age ceremony. Or, trial, might be a better word. Not all daemons need to face Frira, only those who are powerful enough that they would pose a threat to the general public if their powers are left unchecked. If you make it through the Quickening alive, you are deemed worthy and capable of controlling your own powers.”
“And if you don’t? Make it out alive?”
“Then the general sentiment is that your death serves the greater good. Once you come into your full power at eighteen, if you cannot survive Frira, then you do not have the control over your power necessary to keep your powers contained. It would be too dangerous to allow you to live.”
“I turn eighteen in a few weeks.”
“I know. Which is why I am hoping, after this trip, you will allow us to help you train. The Quickening is old magick. There are some things even I can’t protect you from Raven, and this is one of them. I can only help you prepare.” I had no idea how he knew when my birthday was, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask. I waited to feel anxious, or upset, or anything at all. But there was nothing, so I said nothing, and continued on.
“Raven.” I paused and turned to face him. His brows were creased again, he looked like he might reach out to touch me, but then thought better of it.
“What?” My tone was as bland as I felt, but I felt him caress my aura with his again. That cool velvet feeling rubbed against my shields and I shivered. “Stop that.” I whispered. He pulled his aura away, but took a physical step forward.
“What can I do to help you?” He asked, his voice almost as quiet as mine.
“You can’t.” I turned away from him and left him where he stood. The one person who could have helped me was dead.
And she was dead because of me.
11
The last couple of steps brought us to the lip of a large open crater. I peered down and felt a thrill shoot through me as my mind tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
They had not been kidding, a massive lidless eye looked up from the inside of the canyon. At first glance, it looked as if the bowl of the crater was filled with water, but the blue was a large iris that surrounded a black, perfectly circular pupil in the center. The reflective surface of the Eye rippled as we approached the edge to peer down, as if it were acknowledging our presence.
The magick that had called to me at the beginning of our walk seemed to intensify with our proximity to The Eye. This strange phenomenon spoke directly to the piece of me that I associated with my daemon. My aura reacted to it. My tiny stars shone brighter, and I knew that I stood before something powerful.
“Well, we made it.” Amon said gravely from where he stood beside me. I watched him pull Bond-Breaker from its sheath again. He held it almost reverently, looking down into the darkness of the blade with a solemn expression on his face. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, squeezing the hilt of the blade briefly, as if he were saying goodbye.
Despite myself, I felt a twinge in my chest. I realize that this was hard for him. He did not want to give this sword to The Eye. Considering both Kasha and Dossidian’s reaction, I wondered what its significance was, outside of being a reward for surviving his Quickening. It had to be more than just sentimental value that had caused all three of these powerful daemons to have such strong reactions to losing the blade.
Finally, Amon opened his eyes, and held the blade out in front of him, allowing it to rest horizontally across both his palms. It rose into the air and floated out across the gaping mouth of the crater, before hovering several hundred feet above the center of The Eye’s massive pupil.
