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“How did that happen?” Miles rode between Belin and me, a beaten, bloody, and unconscious Ludovicus draped across his horse behind him in the saddle.
I was only half listening as Belin explained to Miles what he’d explained to me three times already. Umbri had cursed the vial of blood, probably because she’d foreseen we were coming. She knew that the worst punishment she could inflict upon me would be to leave me living and breathing but unable to use the powers the Saints had given me.
The other half of my mind was trying to find some sign ofsomethingwithin me to prove him wrong. I searched every corner of my mind twice, hoping with everything in me that I’d find some residual heat, some spark to tell me that all hope was not lost. But there was nothing. No flames, no wind, no rain. Not even ash to prove I’d had powers to begin with.
I trudged through the reeds in my mind, searching for some sign that Katia and Rhedros were still able to hear me. I didn’t know how to find them, didn’t know if they could still see me or hear me. But that nagging emptiness that I’d felt when I realized my powers were gone… I knew it was more than just my powers.
They were gone, too. I was useless.
We were two days from Eserene. Two days from laying siege to the walled city. Two days from finding Castemont and trying to… What, kill him with my bare hands?
And we were two days from reuniting with Whit, Nell, and my entire army, when I’d have to tell them that I no longer held the power that made them follow me in the first place.
I thought about postponing. Could you do that? Postpone a battle? But even if I did, what would I be waiting for? A bigger army? There was no one left on Astran after the conquests of Kauvras and Castemont. Would I be waiting for my powers to return? I had no idea how that would even be possible. I hadn’t the slightest clue how to go about trying to restore them. I let my head drop back, surrendering to hopelessness.
“You can’t tell them,” Miles said suddenly, breaking my brain away from its spiral as if he was witnessing it firsthand. He leaned forward to look at me, his midnight eyes piercing in their intensity. “You can’t tell them your powers are gone.”
I raised a brow. “You want me to lie to my army? You want me to tell them that yes, I’ll be able to conjure fire and water from thin air and heal them with my blood? Knowing I can’t do either of those?”
“Do you know what it’ll do to morale if you tell them the truth?” He was the Lieutenant now, his mind sharp and focused on the logistics of the battle ahead. “They’re not going to run into a losing battle if they know that’s what it is.”
“You can’t tell them,” Belin suddenly cut in. I saw the surprise on Miles’ face at the fact that Belin was addressing me outside his direct duties. This was the most he’d spoken to me in days. “People need hope. That’s what keeps them going. That’s what keeps them fighting battles they’ll never win.”
“With that logic, why are any battles fought at all?” I muttered, staring up into the trees that swayed above us.
“Every battle that’s ever happened has had a winning side and a losing side,” Belin didn’t look at me as he spoke, his eyes trained on the trail ahead. “But each side has something in common… Hope. Hope is what powers every battle. The hope that they’ll be the ones to prevail, that their efforts will prove triumphant. And that goes for those fought on the battlefield and those fought here,” he pointed a finger to his forehead, “and here,” and a finger over his heart. “You always have hope you’ll be on the winning side.”
I tried not to think too much into the meaning of his words, tried to keep the focus on the battle. But fuck if he wasn’t right.
“They’ve all witnessed your power,” Miles said. “Don’t give them any reason to believe it’s gone.”
? ? ?
Another night in the Pass — one of the last. Perhaps one of the last nights we’d ever spend alive. The air was awkward. No one had addressed Miles’ outburst about Cielle in Blindbarrow. No one had addressed the intensity with which Belin beat Ludovicus, who was still restrained and now propped against a tree, barely conscious and struggling to stay that way.
And no one addressed the fact that we were crusading into a battle we’d lose horribly.
Belin had turned over, his back to the fire, his breathing deep and even as he slept. I tried not to stare but found it impossible to look away. The longing had crept in, longing for what had been, what could have been.
If we’d met under different circumstances, would he still have loved me? If it had been chance rather than grand design, would he still have looked at me as if the stars rose and fell for me? Acid rose in my throat as I turned away, the despair of the what-ifs sweeping through me.
“You’ll be okay.” Miles stared at me from across the fire, as if he’d read my thoughts.
My eyes closed, smoke pouring into my lungs as I took a deep breath. It wasn’t the same smoke that Calomyr had smelled of. This was acrid and stinging, taunting me as it billowed from the firepit.Remember me? Remember whenyoucould command flames?
“You won’t stop missing him,” Miles said quietly. “But you’ll be okay one day.”
I dropped my head back, not wanting to be vulnerable in front of him. But I was unable to fight it off. “He didn’t even exist.”
His gaze was lost in the flames. “How can you mourn someone who never existed?”
“That’s a good question,” I answered. “Yet here I am, doing just that.”
He reached into his rucksack and bit into a piece of dried venison. “I’ve looked for her in every woman I’ve met, you know.” I blinked as I realized he was talking about Cielle. “You’ll do the same thing one day. Compare every man to him.”
I covered my eyes with my hands, the truth too unbearable to face. “And have you found her?”
“No. I’ve found bits and pieces of her. I even see some pieces of her in you,” he added quietly. “A lot of her, actually.”
