Season of Glory (2 page)

Read Season of Glory Online

Authors: Lisa Tawn Bergren

BOOK: Season of Glory
2.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Home. Home was where the Maker was calling us.

“You sense that, Ronan? Where we're to go?”

“Is that our true direction? Or is it just the rain, making us homesick?” he asked.
Our trail dipped, and for the moment the rest of our crew was hidden. Ronan pulled
me to a stop and turned to face me.

“Maybe both,” I said, pulling him closer until our foreheads touched. There was
some hesitation in him, a distance I didn't care for. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he said, lifting his head from mine. But I definitely felt it. Irritation?
Frustration? Doubt? I tried to pin it down. I'd rarely felt such things from him.

“Hey,” I said. “What's wrong?”

“Dri, I . . .” He pulled his hands from mine and closed his eyes, sighing heavily.
“It's nothing. We can talk about it later.” “Talk?” I said, edging closer to him
again, lifting my lips toward his. “Are you sure that's what we need?”

His eyes stilled, but he did not lean down to meet me. He put his hands on my shoulders.
“Yes. We need to talk. Definitely before we kiss. But now is not the time.” He set
off down the trail again, and I quickly followed.

“Ronan.”

“Leave it alone, Dri,” he said, flicking his hand out and away. “We'll talk later.”

My heart clamped in fear. What was happening here? Why was I feeling a widening chasm
between us, when we were finally reunited? “Why not now? Ronan!”

He turned so abruptly that I almost ran into him. “He saw you, okay? Chaza'el. He
saw you kissing Keallach.”

I swallowed hard. It didn't take an empath to detect the bitter pain and anger in
his tone.

“Oh,” I said, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. Of all the things that Chaza'el
might have seen, he had to see
that
? “Ronan, I'm sorry. Keallach—I think Sethos has
some sort of spell over him. He would fade out and be distant once in a while.”

“It didn't sound like he was
distant
around you.”

“No, you don't understand. He'd seem distant, and then he'd compel me. Force my body
to do things I didn't wish to do.”

“Things?” he said, eyes narrowing.

“Kissing. Just kissing,” I rushed on. “I think Sethos was behind his desire to take
me as his bride. When we talked about it, he denied it. But the Council . . . they
thought our union would help them bring the Trading Union into the Pacifica Empire.
And our shared Ailith blood . . . they wanted to capitalize on it, as well as on
my gifting. I don't think . . .” I lifted my hand and massaged my forehead. “I don't
think that Keallach was fully engaged in the plan. Sethos was making him compel me
into such kisses, probably hoping I'd believe I was falling for him, that there was
an attraction I couldn't deny—and maybe that'd make me more amenable to their whole
plan.”

His green-brown eyes searched mine. “So you
don't
find him attractive?”

I hesitated, unwilling to lie but trying to find a way to spare his feelings, and
that's all it took. He whirled and set off down the path again. “That's what I thought,”
he tossed over his shoulder.

“No! Ronan! I mean, yes, I think he's handsome. That's the honest answer. But am
I more attracted to you? Yes!”

He paused again for a moment, panting, and grabbed my forearm, as if in warning.
“It's all right, Dri. I know it's confusing, and you've been through a lot. Let's
just let it go now, okay? Until later.”

I clenched my teeth, seeing what he did—we'd nearly reached the rest of our group.

I came up beside Ronan as he told Niero and the others of what had happened. I remembered
Galen's horrible last cry and wished I could forget it.

“We should go back and bury her,” Bellona growled.

“She is gone,” Niero grunted. “With her Maker. What remains is not worth the risk.”

I frowned at him as he turned to go, and we all reluctantly followed. It was true.
The eternal part of Galen, her soul, was gone. But it did seem wrong not to honor
her life, her gift to us.

“Galen would understand, Dri,” Vidar said, interrupting my thoughts. “We need to
put more ground between us and those who hunt us.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I just . . . well, you know.”

“I know.” He looked up at the others, moving off down the trail, clearly wondering
why Ronan wasn't waiting for me. But then his dark eyes shifted to Niero. “So, how
did I not sense it before? I mean, he's been right there in front of us the whole
time.”

I smiled and shrugged, relieved that I wasn't the only one in on the secret. “Guess
he wasn't ready to be revealed. Does
anyone else know?” I remembered Niero's finger
to his lips, silently asking me to keep his confidence as Ronan had come to and Vidar
had roused. Apparently, Vidar's gifting allowed him to see beyond the veil now.

“Not yet,” he said with a toothy grin, gesturing for me to go ahead of him. “And
I kinda like it that way. Just our little secret—yours, mine, and Niero's. Ronan
didn't suspect anything? Even with his wound?”

“No. I'm not sure he even remembers getting stabbed. He seems more preoccupied with
what Chaza'el saw of me and Keallach,” I groused.

“Oh, that. I wondered why you two weren't making your normal googly eyes at each
other.”

“We don't make googly eyes.”

“Oh, yes you do.”

I sighed, knowing that would be an endless argument. “So what do you think made Galen
do it? Help us?”

Vidar let out a low whistle. “She was remarkable, wasn't she? All I can figure out
is that she'd been touched by the Way. Somewhere, somehow. And the Maker encouraged
her to help us, just when we needed her most.”

I nodded, considering his words. But even as we spent hours hiking in a northeasterly
direction, my mind remained on Galen, her body now likely abandoned in the dirt in
front of her barn. I puzzled over the sacrifice she had made for us, which then led
me to think about all the Aravanders who had died by my side, by the side of other
Remnants, all because they were called to serve.

Keallach, too, had been called. And if the call was that strong for others, how could
he possibly still ignore it?

CHAPTER
2

ANDRIANA

W
e spent the night in a cave, huddled together trying to ward off the chill. We didn't
dare
to
light a fire, and the Knights took turns watching for the bird drones that might
be searching for us. We'd learned the hard way—Pacifica's reach was long and deep.
They had caught me as we fled the Aravander camp, and I had been taken to Palace
Pacifica. We didn't intend to be caught again. As we hiked, my eyes moved to Niero,
and I wondered why he hadn't saved me that day. He had protected me before and breathed
life back into Ronan. Could he not have swept in and pulled me from Sethos's grip?
Would that not have been a good time to do his angel thing? I ached to have time
alone with him to ask him some of the hundreds of questions in my mind and heart.

Later that morning, we crossed through what appeared to be Pacifica's main aqueduct,
a broad span of water flowing
swiftly through a concrete channel. “They get their
share of rain, come Hoarfrost,” Niero explained as we wrung out our clothes on the
far side. “But this land was once as dead and arid as the Great Expanse. Come Harvest,
they need more water yet for their fields and growing city.”

“It's a weakness,” Bellona said, placing a boot to the lip of the duct and looking
up and down the waterway, her dark eyes glinting. “This water flows from other places.
Places that might find themselves dammed up on occasion.”

“Or destroyed,” Niero said with a single nod.

“So let me get this straight,” Vidar said, crossing his arms. “You're thinking we'll
not only take on the dragon, we'll make him thirsty first.”

“Maybe,” Bellona said, smiling.

We moved on, rarely stopping and never seeing another soul. The Pacificans really
didn't live far from their cities, which seemed odd, given the protection of the
Wall. Why not spread out? Settle in other places? Each family claiming land of their
own? “I'm surprised we haven't come across another town or village,” I said.

“My people are like bees in the hive,” Lord Cyrus muttered, looking thoughtful. He
had been one of Keallach's Six, and it was largely due to his betrayal of Pacifica
that we were making our escape at all. “All focused on the same task. Working together.
Congregating together. Moving out to work together again. It's admirable, in a way.
If they weren't so sick, they could accomplish great things.”

“Some would say they've already accomplished great things,” I said.

Niero and Ronan looked my way first, then the others did as well. I felt the heat
of a blush gathering on my neck. “Schools. Orphanages for the children.”

Cyrus turned to face me. “Keallach showed you what he wants to see himself. What
he wanted you to see. He didn't take you to a factory or to a mine, did he?”

“No,” I said slowly, hating the tension building between my shoulders. “But he told
me, Cyrus, that those children who aren't chosen for adoption are put to work. I
saw it for myself. They're taught to read. Read! And—”

“They're taught to read, yes,” he said gently, as if explaining hard truths to a
child. “But did you see for yourself what they read?”

I stared back at him, feeling a level of agitation equal to his own. He knew I hadn't.
It had to be plain on my face.

“They're given words that poison their minds,” he went on, “words that will help
Pacifica rule their lives forever. As it nearly did mine.”

“What'd you think, Dri?” Bellona muttered, brushing past me. “That the
emperor
was
handing out copies of the Sacred Words?”

My face burned. What had I thought? Was it all a lie? “B-but they're given food and
shelter,” I said, hating the defensiveness inside that made my voice rise. “And
Keallach seemed shocked when I told him that I'd seen children stolen from families
in the Trading Union. He promised me he'd put an end to—”

Cyrus stepped toward me, his face a mask of compassion and concern. “My friend Keallach
has been trained by the master of lies all his life
.
He believes he knows the truth.
But he doesn't. Trust me, Andriana. Whatever he told you, showed you, cannot be trusted.”

“It's all so much,” I tried again. “So much for one man our age to manage! I think
. . . I think that Sethos
has
lied to him.
He's given him the information he wants
and hidden the rest. How can we expect Keallach to know what he is not told?”

“How can we
expect
it of him?” Niero asked, his eyebrows lifting in exasperation.
“Keallach usurped the throne. He seeks to usurp all power. To rule Pacifica, the
Trading Union, and beyond. Whether that is born of his own sick need or a bowing
to Sethos, it matters not. All we know is that he
is
responsible for his choices.
He
chooses
who informs him. He
chooses
whether or not to ask the hard questions.
He
chooses
what to believe. As do we all. Right?”

I swallowed hard, feeling contempt and concern gather in every one of the Ailith
around me, as well as in my parents and Cyrus. “He is responsible, yes.
Yes.
But
you have to know . . . all of you have to know that I felt the pull of the Way within
him. He is our brother yet.”

“That's the one brother I vote we disown,” scoffed Vidar, looking around. “Am I alone
in that?”

I scowled at him. “None of us is perfect, right? We are all fallible, given to choosing
wrongly. At any time!”

“Well, maybe for you, but not for me,” Vidar said, arching a brow and sliding his
fingers down one side of his coat, as if it were fine linen.

I kept staring at him until he sobered and faced me directly. “Seriously, Dri, you
sensed the Way within him? Or were you just feeling that connection we get from our
shared Ailith blood?”

I shook my head slowly and rubbed my forehead. “I think . . . I think I had cause
for hope. He is lost right now, yes. But doesn't that mean he could one day be found?”
I dared, then, to look toward Niero, Ronan, and the others.

“Or is that exactly what he wanted you to think?” Vidar said, taking my hand in both
of his. “He knows you are the
empathetic one. That your gifting gives you power but
also makes you vulnerable, right? He didn't capture me, who would've been able to
clearly make out light from dark. Or Chaza'el, who would've been able to see the
future. And while Tressa would've been handy to have on hand in case he got injured,
it was you he chose. You, Andriana.”

Ronan tensed beside me. “They wanted her as his bride,” he spat out. “Saw her as
a means to unite the Trading Union with Pacifica.”

“There was that element,” I said quickly. “But this wasn't just about political gain.”

“No,” Ronan said. “From the first time he saw you, he wanted you as his own.” He
stalked away from us, past my parents, and I frowned in confusion. By the heavy hurt
and heightened anger I sensed in him, it was clear that he was thinking about Keallach
kissing me again.

I forced myself to concentrate on Vidar. He was the only one likely to give our brother
a chance, if he had the opportunity to weigh the dark—and the light—within him.
“Think about it, Vid. The twins were so young when they were divided. If we each
had been tutored by one such as Sethos, rather than our trainers, how might
we
have
turned out?”

Other books

Jack and Susan in 1953 by McDowell, Michael
White Girls by Hilton Als
The Kiskadee of Death by Jan Dunlap
The Eleventh Year by Monique Raphel High
Heart of Danger by Fleur Beale
Behind the Walls by Nicola Pierce
Black Rock by John McFetridge
The Locker by Richie Tankersley Cusick