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“She is quite remarkable.” He glances back at Evya, looking pleased. “Did you know she can recite nearly every prayer in the codex of the star-singers?”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “No, but at this point nothing would surprise me.”
“She’s a good match for a Dalzana.”
“I’m glad at least one person thinks so.” I sink my head into my hands, suddenly tired all over again from the worries that swarm in my mind.
The priest chuckles. “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts now that you’re finally stepping onto the prophet’s path.”
“No regrets,” I say quickly. “I’m merely starting to realize why Dalzanas do not have long life spans.”
Nehanir deposits the books on one of the bookshelves with a loud thunk, then settles carefully onto the cushions beside me, grimacing as he bends his bad knee. His bright blue eyes are deep with thought.
“None of us are promised long or happy lives. Especially not when those like Falamar and the Seamother hold the power. If the lords have their way, I fear none of us will weather this storm much longer.” He lowers his voice so it does not carry beyond the room. “Speaking of which, I gathered some news a few hours ago. I didn’t want to disturb you while you were resting, but now I must tell you so you have a chance at warning the Atathari in time. The king has mobilized the dragon riders and scattered them among the coastal camps.”
“I know—” I begin to reply, but I break off when I notice the deep lines of concern on Nehanir’s face.
“There is more,” he continues. “Falamar’s best mages are among the soldiers, and he has given them leave to use any runes they deem necessary, even those so deadly that they are ordinarily forbidden.”
My face flushes with outrage. Falamar has truly fallen far.
Nehanir goes on. “They will begin tomorrow after sunset, attacking from three directions at once and working their way toward the palace. Falamar is waiting out the time he allotted to you, but he will act as soon as it is up. He thinks your courtship of the princess is a lost cause.”
“I’m starting to think he’s right.” My hand strays to my throbbing wounds. My mind spins with everything Nehanir has just told me, and at the realization of how impossible the situation is. “Even if I manage to warn the Atathari in time, and even if they listen, they will just try to fight Falamar, and everything will escalate. This whole plan hinged on me being able to win Evya’s hand. The challenge is tomorrow morning. If the healing runes do not finish their work by then, I won’t have a chance at surviving it.”
Nehanir smiles. “Oh, you never had a very good chance.”
“... thank you, old friend.”
The priest shakes his head. “None of this was ever about your strength, Keliveth. You don’t hold sway over the king, and you aren’t a sea-lord, even with those marks she gave you.” He brushes his thumb over the tattoo on my left wrist. “There are powers at work that are far beyond you. You are doing what all faithful Dalzanas must: following the path you have been set upon and seeing what comes of it. You do not hold destiny in your hand, and you do not need to.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “I know. I don’t fear death. I just wish I could promise a better ending to Evya.”
“You already have. While you slept, Evya told me much of what has passed between you. Your coming among the Atathari renewed her hope and courage, and that will change the lives of her people in ways neither of you can yet imagine. That encouragement is no small thing, and you did not even do it on purpose.” The priest gives a gentle smile. “Stop thinking of your own fate, my friend, and remember that you and Evya are but one part in a very great tale.”
By now, the sun is a pool of liquid gold on the horizon. No matter what fate awaits me, we can’t linger here much longer. Evya seems to sense this too. She rises from among the cluster of children and stands looking out at the sea, falling into the quiet, thoughtful mood she has when she’s mulling over something.
It takes all of my willpower to force myself to my feet, but when I do, I can stand and walk without much effort. Evya joins me, pausing only to bid a cordial farewell to Nehanir. The priest lets us go without protest. When the first stars rise above Kara Davonashi, we make our way back down the stairs and through the little garden.
“Will they just let us walk out?” Evya whispers as we navigate through the halls that lead to my chamber.
I stop in my tracks. I had just assumed they would, but I’ve been thinking like the man I was the last time I left Kara Davonashi. Now, when I’m a traitor in the eyes of the lords, I realize how unwise it would be to try to simply waltz out the front gates and down to the seashore.
“Probably not.” I pull Evya forward again, this time quickening my pace until we reach my chambers. My mind works furiously. By the time we duck into my room I’ve sketched out a more sensible plan. “There is a hidden exit beneath the library wing that leads into a network of passageways inside the cliff. It’s a more treacherous route down to the sea, but it will allow us to get past the guards.”
An odd fear creeps down my spine. I’m planning to run from my own home, my own people. I pray I’m just being overcautious. After all, the lords have no legal right to accost us, not when I have sanctuary here and Evya came here in peace. But I cannot shake the strange foreboding that has settled over me.
Thinking fast, I grab my rucksack from its hook on the wall and throw open the door to my wardrobe. I shove my best spare tunic and trousers into the canvas bag, along with my formal robes of silver silk. Then I reach up to the top shelf and grab the small wooden box that rests there. I flip open the lid, revealing the circlet crafted of silver filigree and small diamonds set in the shape of many-pointed stars—the last heirloom I have from my family. Carefully, I shut the box again and set it in the sack, nestled in the clothing. I gather my favorite knives, my vials of herbal tinctures, and a few books I can’t bear to leave behind. Everything important from my old life fits neatly into a single bag, and it somehow feels right.
“What are you doing?” Evya asks, laying her hand on my arm to slow my frantic pace. “You won’t need all that.”
“I’m planning to upend all of Falamar’s strategies, one way or another. I doubt he will ever welcome me back to Kara Davonashi after that.” The words ring through me like a bell, as if sealing my doom. I fasten the clasp on the rucksack and sling it over my shoulder. “Even if things go well tomorrow, I no longer have a home among the elves.”
The look in her eyes softens, and I know she understands. Still, I can sense her growing anxiety. While I was packing, she collected her only belonging—the white festival gown —and hastily stuffed it into the rucksack alongside my garments. As soon as I shoulder my bag, she grabs my arm and steers me toward the door.
“We’ll need to remain careful once we’re away from the fortress,” she says. “The sea is almost completely caught in my mother’s sway, and she will sense as soon as we enter the waves. Once she realizes you are still alive, it might be a treacherous swim back to the islands.”
I pause with the key half turned in the door lock. A new plan forms in my mind, and I smile. “Maybe we don’t have to swim.”
