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Gorgon glances sideways at me. The line of her mouth tightens. “Peace is not happenstance. It is a living fire that must be fed constantly. It must be tended with vigilance, else it dies out.”
“Why has this power come to me, Gorgon? I can scarcely govern myself. At times, I feel as if I could dance through the halls with happiness, and then, just as suddenly, my thoughts are dark and lost and frightening.”
o;It has been their right since the rebellion,” Philon answers.
“Because they sided with the Order. Now they plot against us! The Order will take what is ours and give it to the Untouchables! We will be left with nothing!”
“Do you have so little faith in me, Neela?” Philon’s eyes narrow.
“You do not see clearly. You have too much faith in the girl. A battle for the realms has begun. They mean to destroy us. We must strike to defend ourselves.”
“They did not strike us first.”
Creostus bellows, “Have you forgotten what they did to us?”
More angry shouting erupts in the crowd, each fear more terrible than the last, till they’re frenzied. “They will take our land! They will kill our children! We must strike!”
An arrow splits the air above my head and skitters across the ground behind me.
“Nyim!” Philon thunders. “We are not at war with the Hajin or the Order. Yet. As for you, Priestess, I will give you the benefit of the doubt. For now. But you must prove good faith to me.”
“How?”
Philon’s gaze is inscrutable. “I require an act of good faith. You said you could gift others with the magic. Very well. I accept. Gift me so that I might hold magic of my own.”
I did say that, but now I am not so sure that I should have. “What will you do with it?” I ask.
Philon regards me coolly. “I do not ask what you do with yours.”
When I make no move, Creostus crosses his arms and smirks. “She hesitates. What further proof do you need?”
“The magic does not last for long,” I say, stalling. “What help will it be to you?”
“Because you put some enchantment upon it!” Creostus spits.
“No! I have no control over it.”
“We shall see.” Philon’s eyes are glassy. “Will you gift us? Or is it war?”
The forest folk wait for my answer. I’m not at all sure this is the best course, but what choice do I have? If I don’t give them any, it’s war. If I do, there’s no telling how they might use the power.
But no one says I have to give them much.
I join hands briefly with Philon, and when I break away, the creature regards me with those cool eyes. “And is that all, Priestess?”
“I told you I have no control over it,” I say.
Philon shakes my hand but whispers in my ear. “That is your first lie. Do not let there be a second.”
As I leave, Neela shouts after me. “You witches cannot be trusted! Soon, we will no longer live in your shadow!”
Gorgon steers a course back to the garden. I perch beside her neck, listening to the gentle rhythm of the water sluicing against the ship’s enormous sides. Gorgon has said nothing since we left the forest.
“Gorgon, what was Creostus speaking about earlier?”
“It is nothing. Creostus knew me as a warrior.”
“But why do you choose to stay here in this prison?”
