“She should have told me.”
Wisps, responding to Laken’s fury, zipped from his essence and tumbled into nothing before striking the fabric of his tent. Vantra had not seen the display since she Chose him; his emotions must burn hot enough, he no longer contained them.
“She should have,” she agreed, turning up the lamp on the side table. Why would Death select him as her Champion, then neglect to tell him about it? To give him a spear and then break him apart? Knowing why would have soothed something about his wait.
“This isn’t a game,” he snapped, whipping around and re-floating his path; she had not realized he could pace, but he did an excellent job of it without uttering a word to adjust his base’s direction. “This is my afterlife! If I knew the Fields had a purpose, if I—”
“Telling you that I would show up eventually isn’t much of an assurance.” She settled into a chair and adjusted her elbows on her legs so her hands could dangle between them. Her mother’s arrival and continued silence under questioning infected her charity, and she had few good feelings towards either her or Erse at the moment.
“No, it isn’t.” He rotated then stopped, his eyes a stormy blue as he regarded her.
“What do you want to do?”
His face twisted through several emotions before his shoulders slumped, and his gaze dropped to the lush dark brown carpet. “What do you mean?”
“Do you want to stay with the mini-Joyful or leave?” She asked despite the unease spreading through her at the thought of choosing. After she found out about Katta and Qira, she desperately wanted to leave, but encountering the darkness in the in-between, seeing Kjiven’s puppet reflecting his fury, she did not think she could keep her Chosen safe from their enemies. Only the mini-Joyful could.
“I don’t think we have a choice in staying,” he said. “What I carry isn’t some throw-away strange relic. It’s . . . important. Really important.”
“She gave you the most important task she’s ever given anyone. She knows you’ll protect the spear.”
“Ignorance is a grand protector, isn’t it?” He lifted his lip, then closed his eyes. “It was simpler, when I thought I was just some Condemned Nolaris held a grudge against. I hated it, but I understood the darkness that forced his acts. But this?” His laugh held disbelief and rage. “When I was a child, my mother told stories about the grand heroes of legend, how they overcame many dangers to achieve victory. It’s what led me to join the seacrews against her wishes, but as young as I was, I saw myself in a hero’s shoes, opposing the corrupt Keel. I didn’t think I was abandoning her, but that’s how she took it.” He scrubbed his palm over his cheek and ran it through his hair. “Being the hero isn’t the grand tale, is it? It’s suffering and agony while fighting enemies that have no greater purpose than selfish revenge. If I’m the hero, I’m supposed to battle the ultimate evil, not do whatever this is.” He swept his hand in front of him, then flung his arm wide.
“You are battling the ultimate evil,” Vantra told him. “Just not in the way you expected.”
He cocked his head at her, then pulled his lip between his fingers. “You think me lying in the fields was a battle?”
“Yes. A battle against depression, rage, helplessness.”
“A hero’s struggles are supposed to make them stronger so they can win against the villain. I don’t feel stronger.”
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” Vantra wrapped her arms around herself and sank back in the chair. “You’re stronger than me. You’ve kept your cool in dire situations, got me to focus rather than fall into fear.”
He squinted in disbelief. “You have that invisibility spell. It’s saved me more than once.” He began pacing again. “You do things I’ve never had another Finder do for me, like take me with them instead of shoving my head into a bag and leaving me there. I always saw that as strong.” Her obvious startlement prompted a low, amused laugh. “You don’t believe me?”
“I’ve never seen myself as strong. I’m unskilled in Mental Touch.”
“Magic’s not the only kind of strength, you know.” He quirked his mouth to the left. “You’re very hesitant when it comes to the stuff Lorgan assigns, that’s true, but that’s Nolaris’s fault and you didn’t have another mentor to remind you he’s an ass and you should ignore him.”
She chewed on her lower lip, disconcerted at both observances. “There was Jheeka.”
Laken thought on that. “She endangered herself to help us escape,” he finally murmured. “She and Cheldisa.”
Vantra vowed to remember to ask Lorgan about contacting them. She needed to send an update on the Redemption. They deserved to know their progress, as they gave up everything with the Finders to see her and her Chosen safe.
A bell rang, high, crystalline. “It’s open,” Laken shouted. Open? It was a tent flap; was there a way to lock it?
Katta entered, Fyrij on his shoulder and tweeting something rapid and insistent while his wings flapped in excitement. The syimlin’s amusement did not sit well with the caroling, and he flew to Vantra’s shoulder and returned to his agitated monologue.
“He wants to sing with your mother, and she stubbornly, if kindly, told him no,” the syimlin said.
Vantra sighed. “I’ll guilt her into it,” she promised the little avian. He paused, cocked his head, and tweeted, sounding confused. “She raised me. I know what to do to make her feel guilty.” And, given the ammunition of her mother’s refusal to tell her why she was in the Evenacht and how she knew her daughter needed help, it should be an easy prod.
“She has a powerful voice,” Katta said. “He rode it trying to reach you when you were unconscious, and he enjoyed it.”
Another failure on her part, that she could not manipulate Sonkotrow like her mother. She shoved the thought away; she did not want to dwell on the past. The present was depressing enough.
“Vantra, when you’re ready, I’d like to visit the place where you stayed in the between.”
She glanced at Laken, who shrugged; she supposed they exhausted their current conversation. “We can do it now.”
“Good.” He studied her Chosen’s appendage. “How are you feeling, Laken? Any strangeness? Pain?”
The captain rolled his shoulder, clenched his fingers, then shook his head. “Not after the initial meld. All the fuzziness and pain spikes are gone.”
“Clenching your fingers, grasping things, raising your arm. Anything you can’t do?”
“Not that I’ve found yet.”
“If nothing’s wrong right now, I doubt something will develop in the future.” He regarded Vantra. “Now that you’ve completed a couple of attachments, how do you feel?”
She blinked, trepidation roaring at the question. Should something have happened to her? “Fine.”
“Anything odd in the link between you and Laken?”
“No.” Not that she noticed, anyway.
“Alright. Things are as they should be. Come to my tent and we’ll see about reaching your haven.”
