AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Shortcomings
After her time spent in Lotis, under the open skies of Greenhill Province, the Temple of Atal felt too confining. As Verve passed through the familiar corridors, the walls seemed to close in around her, making her breath come a little shorter. But that was a foolish thought, of course, so Verve dismissed it.
Harder to ignore were the glares of the other Chosen and their trainers. No one stopped what they were doing, of course, for that would make their interest too plain, but Verve knew the language of stolen glances, lifted brows, and hardening jaws.
“Trainer Aya,” Verve said as she passed by the mercenary on her way to Danya. “Nice to see you. How’s it going?”
The hired blade stared at her, lip curling in distaste, before she shoved past Verve and continued down the passageway. Verve frowned after her. The mercenaries Danya had hired to train Atal’s Chosen weren’t the friendliest sort, but they were at least on speaking terms with their charges. Aya had given Verve more than one scar in their training bouts, but each scar was a lesson learned. And besides, she thought Aya had liked her.
The cold shoulders continued as Verve made her way deeper into Atal’s sanctum. Even Usko, when she passed by him and some of the others his age in the dining room, didn’t acknowledge her greeting.
He’d said the other Chosen were worried about her, but they damn sure weren’t acting like it, even a little.
A hive of wasps swarmed in Verve’s belly. Was Danya coming down even harder on emotional displays? But the buzz of warning within her told her otherwise, and although she didn’t need the reminder to be careful, she got the message loud and clear.
Danya was not in her office. Verve frowned at the cramped room, which was cleaner than she’d ever seen it. Some papers and scrolls lay neatly stacked on a shelf, but Danya’s desk was all but bare — save a small hematite statue of Atal. Verve studied the statue—a grim-faced man wielding a sword—before heading back into the Temple itself. No sign of the head priest in the main hall, nor the infirmary or the dormitories. At last, Verve came across Danya in the temple garden, seated before another statue of Atal, this one in the garden’s heart. Verve passed by manicured shrubs and stately bushes and knelt beside Danya without a word, for the priest detested interruptions when at prayer here. Verve knelt until her knees ached and the overpowering scent of blooming blush-roses made her nose itch, but she did not move.
“I see you’ve not forgotten me, after all,” Danya said at last.
Verve ducked her head but kept silent. If she spoke before Danya gave permission… Well, at least the scars from that lesson only marred her spirit, not her flesh.
Danya waited several long minutes before she spoke again, a smile hidden in her voice. “First things first: I received news of your cousin. As of last week, they were still in Starwatch; a merchant reported dealings with the Sufani family we’ve been looking for.”
The news plucked Verve up and flung her into the ether, making her dizzy, confused, and for a few seconds she only stared dumbly at the lush garden grass.
“I have a name, too,” Danya said.
Verve risked a glance up. The afternoon light filtering through the garden trees cast Danya in a warm, golden glow as she beamed at Verve. “Morwen,” Danya said.
Morwen. Verve turned the syllables over in her mind, searching for familiarity, but the name meant nothing. But Danya’s expression was expectant, so she ducked her head again. “Thank you, serla. Do you know exactly where in Starwatch Province they can be found?”
“Oh, far to the north,” Danya said. “Close to the border with Cander. But you know how those Sufani vagabonds wander aimlessly.”
Danya added a smirk that made Verve’s fingers itch to pull out one of her daggers.
The priest sighed. “I fear they’ll have left by the time my letter reaches the area. But I had to try, for your sake. You deserve a family, Verve.”
Better if Danya had buried a blade in her heart than voice the hope that Verve had long since tried to shut out of it. But Danya knew which wounds had not healed and could be pressed just so, and how the ensuing pain would block out all other things from Verve’s heart. Hope, joy, grief, rage… They warred within her, each desperate to find purchase over the rest, and she could not speak for longing.
Danya allowed her a few seconds to absorb this news, then continued, her tone all business. “Usko said you’re still trying to find Damaris?”
“He spoke truly, serla,” Verve replied, still half-focused on the name Morwen. “I’ve made good progress, but the mage is difficult to track down. However, within the next two cycles of Atal, I will—”
“You’ve already taken too long,” Danya interrupted.
“That’s not fair,” Verve snapped before she could stop herself. “You said—”
Heat stung Verve’s lips before she registered Danya’s blow. She pitched to the side, catching herself with her gloved hands, blinking back sudden tears. Idiot, she scolded herself as she collected her wits. She could take down the most ferocious shiftlings, but let this old hag slap her once and she turned into a sniveling child.
“The mission has changed,” Danya went on calmly, as if they were sharing tea in her garden. “I require Damaris within a fortnight.”
Verve winced. “I’m sorry, serla, but that won’t be possible—”
Another blow landed at the site of the first; this one hurt even worse, and something warm dribbled down Verve’s cheek. But she dared not move, hardly breathed, as Danya grabbed her chin and forced their eyes to meet.
“Time runs short,” Danya said, her voice still quiet and too calm. “You’ve wasted a month lollygagging in Lotis, befriending the locals. Usko only spent a day in observation, but he learned quite enough. He saw you among the villagers.”
Verve’s eyes lidded as despair clutched her heart. Usko… But of course, his loyalty was to Danya. Loyalty — genuine or coerced. The result was the same.
