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I swallow and pinch my lips together.? “Now, I’ve never bothered much with what you folks believe or do in your own home, so long as Téron’s work has been up to my standards. He’s had his bouts of illness over the years, which I’ve overlooked.” He comes so close I can see flecks of green in his granite eyes. “But this is one step too far. Opposing the Foremost, risking the Shrouded’s anger like he did yesterday ...” He paces and rubs a hand over his bristly hair, the calluses scraping against it audibly. “You realize I’ve had to find a replacement for him, Amyrah. I won’t have him coming back here. Especially if he can’t keep his mouth shut.”
“What happened yesterday?” I ask, because to me, it’s even more significant than my father no longer having an occupation.
Harvel’s hand falls to his side. The folds in his forehead smooth slightly. He leans in again. “All I know is things are changing, and it will not go well for anyone who stands in the way.”
I open my mouth to respond, but Harvel says, “If people don’t start considering what their actions cost the Vale,” he pauses, his shoulders rising as he sucks in a deep breath, “they don’t deserve a place here.”
His expression is so layered, so intense, that I am forced to turn away from it. I watch the masons as they work, chipping away at giant slabs of rock.
When I make my eyes focus on their projects, my stomach cramps painfully. They are making headstones.
I turn back, and surprise has overcome Harvel’s swarthy face. His eyes widen at the glowing pendant, then rove up and around me. My heart responds by flinging itself against my ribs. I bring my lantern under my chin and push against his chest. He steps back, his jaw working in a silent question as a blind panic seizes my limbs. I stagger backward.
“Th-thanks for your help,” I mutter breathlessly, “but I should probably get—”
Confused, he stares after me as I spin away and hurry out of the trade district as fast as I can.
“Watch it, girl.”
I barrel around a corner, right into a wealthy merchant stepping off his front steps. Gasping for air, I mutter my apologies without looking back.
Once he is out of sight, I fall against a wall and wait for the deafening rush of my pulse to quiet.
Harvel’s words gnaw at my thoughts until my mind screams,What have my actions cost the Vale?
I shake my head to knock the question loose.
I am not responsible for the evils of others.
But the seed has gained purchase in my mind, and I can feel its weed-like roots taking hold.
I force myself to keep moving, but my resolve evaporates like a physician’s liquor. I don’t resist as Utsanek reels me back into the heart of its oblivion.
Mixed with the clouds of doubt, my father’s words join the tangle of thoughts.Your love of light will get you killed.
When I thought it was only my own safety on the line, I didn’t even question the danger. I believed the beauty of illumination was worth it. But I can no longer deny how my heedless actions—my light—brought the retaliation of the kaligorven.
The intersections around me begin to blend together with sinister sameness. I try to take deep breaths, but the feeling of dread won’t leave me alone.
If this light is so good, why does it bring so much devastation?
My pulse and pace quicken, and every turn I take leads to more long passageways and too many people. I need to get out, but I can’t find a way. The longer I remain, the worse the ténesomni pursues me. I have never felt it like this before. It spirals angrily at the boundary between darkness and light, pushing in closer and closer to my skin. A muffled scream tears from my chest. I look behind me and see no evidence of a physical pursuer, but the fear remains.
Throat dry and lungs burning, I dart down alleys and squeeze between fences, desperate for relief. When I slip between two dilapidated structures and find an open gate at the end of a narrow passage, I land in a scene that banishes my panic and makes my breath catch.
An entire city block is lit up—not with sola bones or gloomy lanterns, but with a myriad of bolétis. They line both sides of the wide street and greet me from delicate woven cages hanging overhead. A rainbow of colors to feast my heart on and ease my mind.
It is another world.
Pressing a hand to the wild pulse in my throat, I stare around in wonder. The countless mushrooms form an effective barrier between the looming shadows and the street below. A girl shakes out a carpet on a balcony and sends a burst of wind that makes the rustic pendants sway and dance. Their rays of light sprinkle in every direction.
A linear garden runs in spurts down the street’s center, fragrant with forest herbs and a few early blooming flowers. Rusted signs dangle from the buildings, boasting of a tea house, an apothecary, a weaver, a mercantile. And a library.
Children run past, squeezing themselves behind doors and crouching below the garden planters. Two women converse in low tones and chuckle quietly beside a cart overflowing with preserves, keeping an eye on the impish play.
“Ex-excuse me,” I say, holding the lantern close to my heart so I can feel its tremulous warmth.
The taller of the two leans forward and tilts her head. A flash of unease runs through me when she exchanges a wary look with the other. “Anything in particular I can help you find?”
