Page 66 of While the Dark Remains
“It meant everything to me, too,” he says softly.
The knot in my heart loosens, but there is only anguish in Ballast’s face.
“Go and sleep some,” I tell him. “I will guard the door.”
He considers this, eyes heavy with exhaustion. “All right. Just for a little while. Promise you will wake me if the demons come.” His eyes snag on mine, and I forget, for a moment, how to breathe. Then he lays his sword in my lap, and I turn to watch the passageway in his stead.
There are too many noises out there in the dark, too much empty space writhing with monsters. I think of the Iljaria, centuries ago, carving tunnels through the mountains, making them beautiful, never fearing the dark, because they carried light with them, always: the light of magic, power, strength. At least until the shadows came. And I think of Ballast as a boy, doing his very best to protect me from the monster who tormented us both.
Chapter Twelve
Year4200, Month of the Black God
Daeros—Tenebris
The food shipment from Skaanda arrives before breakfast, three mounded wagons brimming with rice and corn and flour, barrels of beans and stalks of sugarcane, jars of honey and chests of tea.
A group of us comes out to watch the wagons trundling through the great front gates, and I goggle at how much there is—Vil is truly serious about selling this treaty to Kallias and his nobles, and I admire him for it. For his part, Kallias eyes the shipment with his arms crossed and a hard line between his brows.
His governors seem to be rather more impressed. Lord Seleukos, who governs Garran City, steps up to Vil and requests a private meeting, as do Lady Eudocia, governor of the Bone City, and Lord Phaedrus, who oversees Kallias’s fields and greenhouses and is in charge of food distribution throughout Daeros. Vil agrees cordially to each meeting, and I see the tension in his shoulders slowly ease away. This is what he wanted—everything is going according to plan.
Not to be outdone by this Skaandan show of wealth, Kallias announces that in lieu of negotiations today, Vil and I are to be shown what Daeros has to offer Skaanda, in the event the treaty is eventually signed. We are to tour the mines, the barracks, and the greenhouse, and then attend the Lantern Festival in Garran City.
We return to our rooms for breakfast, and then Saga gets me ready for the day, though she won’t quite look me in the eye. Ballast’s presence in Tenebris is a thorn between us, and I don’t know how to work it free.
I wear a red gown lined with rabbit fur and a long wool coat that buttons up to my chin and brushes against the tops of my boots. The coat has a hood in case it snows, but that doesn’t keep Saga from threading silk flowers into my curls. Foolish, I think, flowers in winter. But I’m not about to deny Saga anything.
Vil meets me in the hall, wearing a similarly long coat, with a bearskin hat embedded with jewels. I am distantly aware of how handsome he looks, but the thought won’t stick in my brain because I’m too busy wondering if Ballast will join our party today.Ballast.My head spins, and I fight to calm my jangling nerves.
He’s a problem,says Vil in my mind, tangling with Saga’s voice:What happened in the caves, what you thought he was to you there—it was nothing. It meantnothing.
Gulla’s words are there, too, the memory of her fingers spelling them out in the great hall:He has become too much like his father, desiring only power.
But I think of colorful cards laid out on his bed and his childhood gifts of food and quiet company. I think of his back to mine, battling monsters in the dark, of his fingers tangled in my newly grown hair and his magic sparking inside me, hot enough to burn. I think of his conviction and his longing and his grief. And I can’t believe that he is like his father. I refuse to believe it.
We meet the others at the stables, which are built adjoining the mountain. Like Vil and I, everyone is dressed warmly against the bitter wind: Kallias, Aelia, Zopyros, Theron, Alcaeus. Lysandra has managed to garner herself an invitation to this outing, too, her pale face nearly blue with cold under her hood. Also in attendance are Lords Seleukos, Phaedrus, and Damianus, who oversees the mines, as well as Lady Eudocia. Leifur is here to accompany me and Vil, and there is also an Aeronan guard and a handful of Daerosian soldiers.
But Ballastisn’there and I feel his absence keenly, like a blade to the heart.
“Astridur?” says Vil, far too many ears around for him to use my real name. “You all right?”
With an effort, I yank my gaze away from the door that leads into Tenebris and fix Vil with the brightest smile I can manage. “I’m fine, Vil. Just a little cold.”
He grimaces but doesn’t press me further.
I sneak another glance at the door. It remains firmly shut.
Attendants make short work of saddling the horses, and I swing up onto mine, trying not to notice Kallias watching me with glittering eyes.
The soldiers at the head of our company hold torches to light our way through the winter darkness, and they’ve just started moving out when an attendant leads one last horse out of the stable.
My breath catches as the door to the mountain creaks open and Ballast appears, wearing a green and silver coat he hasn’t buttoned. His head is bare, his white-and-black hair dappled in the torchlight. The patch over his eye is tied with a green ribbon.
I’m staring again and I duck my head, struggling to think past my racing heart. Beside me, Vil swears under his breath.
“Bastard can’t be bothered to come on time,” says Zopyros in an overloud voice.
But then Ballast is mounting his horse and we’re all riding two abreast on the road toward the mines, the first stop on our tour.
