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“Nothing?”
He nodded slowly. “Nothing.”
Suspicion crawled into place like an old friend. Many foes had succumbed to my strategies in the past from such a tactic. Was Percy attempting to smoke us out with something similar?
“I find that hard to believe,” I whispered. “He must be doing something to find Macy.”
“I’m sure it won’t be long until she’s located.”
I breathed deeply. “I don’t want that to happen.”
“We might have to send her away then.”
“No, that’s out of the question.”
But it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.
Sending Macy to a remote location with minimal magic surrounding her would likely be a greater protective measure than what she was currently receiving.
Izdor stopped tossing the apple, tracing the skin with the tip of his finger. “I’m sorry to say it, friend, but I just think it might be best.”
“She’s safer here.”
Logic said otherwise.
“You need to consider what’s best for her,” Izdor stated. “And you. Don’t you want to travel?”
“She’s my responsibility.”
He gave me a sympathetic frown. “I get it, Juriah. I remember what happened.”
Anger flared in my eyes. “Don’t.”
“You can’t ignore it forever, you know. You have to face it one day.”
“I face it every day of my eternal life.”
He tossed the apple back into the basket with the others. “What you’re doing is you’re beating yourself up. It’s not going to earn you any forgiveness.”
“They can’t forgive me when they’redead, Izzy.”
Quiet guilt, as adept as a gazelle, launched into the clearing of my center. Where my emotions typically sat still was a gaping well that swallowed everything up—except the guilt, of course. Never the guilt.
Why can’t I get rid of the guilt?
“You made a small mistake,” Izdor said calmly. “It’s so small on the scale, Juriah. You can’t keep living like this.”
“It’s mydutyto live like this. I’m a commander in the seventh army of Estaria’s—”
He grabbed my shoulders. “We’re on earth now, Juriah. We’re not at war anymore.Let it go.”
I twisted out of his grip and walked to the porch, yanking open the door to let the wind inside, to let the world witness my pain. No one else could have carried me through the wreckage of my mistakes like Izdor and Galanthia. And no one else could have possibly understood the vindication required for my crimes.
I balled up my fist and whacked the doorway’s frame. “It’s my fault, Izzy. Those people died under my care. I should be punished for that.”
“You’ve suffered enough.”
“I’ve barely scraped the surface of suffering.”
