“WHY DID you keep it from me?”
Elua was leaning against the doorframe of their bathroom, watching Lukan wash himself and trying her hardest to keep the anguish from her voice. Lukan finished his quick wash before he went over to her. He opened his mouth to answer, but Elua stopped him.
“Don’t give me that crap about you being scared, Lukan. I know you. You are afraid of nothing.”
Lukan stared into her eyes, and what Elua saw there made her regret her words. Lukan was afraid. He trailed a finger down her cheek. His voice sounded far off, as if he were deep in thought.
“Dying isn’t that bad. It’s like going to sleep when you’re really tired. It’s peaceful. A warm blanket of shadows spread over you, making you feel protected and pampered.”
Lukan hesitated. There was something in his look that made Elua wrap her arms around him in a protective gesture. When he spoke on, his voice was raw.
“When Sic called me, I didn’t think twice about coming back. You were there. My friends were there. I love life. I really do— I just never thought the light could be something to be feared. That it could be so cruel.”
He hesitated again, unable to look at Elua.
“Remember when we talked about how we can’t understand why Sic would forgive Noran and even accept him as his mate? I can now. If I had to face one of them, I would always choose Noran, because Sic…. Sic is terrifying. And the worst part? He knows it. He knows it and he tries to hide his power, his fear of what he’s capable of. He’s the sweetest man I’ve ever met, and I love him as a friend. At the same time, I fear what he is. The connection we’re now sharing doesn’t make it any easier. I know Daran feels the same. We both want to help Sic. We’re rejecting and accepting the bond at the same time, and that is what makes this so complicated.”
Elua took Lukan’s head in her hands and kissed him long and deep. She understood. She didn’t like it, but she understood. Before Sic had called Daran back, the Echend’dim had been nothing but a dream. Something the mercenaries clung to as a possible reward for their services to the Gods of War. Now that the Eternal Guard was no longer the vision of a seer but reality, it turned out this gift came with a price, just like everything to do with Canubis and Renaldo. The rewards for being with the two gods were sometimes worse than the punishment for opposing them. The powers offered to those loyal to Canubis and Renaldo had to be counterweighted; Elua understood that much. What she didn’t understand was why good men like Lukan had to suffer for it.
“It’s fine, my lord. I’m afraid I’m just jealous of what you have gained. Or afraid for you. I don’t really know. Sometimes I want to pretend nothing of this ever happened. That you are still Lukan, my husband, not Lukan, the Echend’dim.”
Lukan pulled her closer, burying his nose in the crook of her neck.
“I wish so, too, my lady. The goddesses help me, but I wish so too.”
“YOU REALLY should have told us sooner.” Canubis glared at Sic, Daran, and Lukan with barely concealed anger. What the three had just told him meant another liability in the upcoming campaign, one he couldn’t afford when Renaldo was still shaken to the core. “We have less than two weeks left to work on this, and I don’t think your little problem can be easily solved. I need you at your best during the campaign. A guerilla war is nothing like a siege. This could prove to be a danger for us all.”
Daran cringed when he heard the accusation in his god’s voice. Disappointing Canubis was a bad thing. He lowered his gaze. “We beg your forgiveness, my lord. We are truly sorry.”
Canubis sighed. “I know. Doesn’t change the fact that you kept something really important from me. I’m going to inform Hulda. Perhaps she can get to the bottom of this and help you deal with the ramifications. You two can leave. Sic, you stay.”
Daran and Lukan bowed and hastened to leave the chambers. They shot Sic a quick sympathetic glance before they closed the door. Once the two Echend’dim were gone, Canubis regarded Sic with an unfathomable look. “I get the feeling you are hiding quite a lot from me, Luksari.”
Now it was Sic’s time to cringe. He avoided Canubis’s gaze. “Please, my lord. I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“You’re hiding, Sic. Ignoring them won’t make your problems go away. You know that, don’t you?”
“I’m aware. I just don’t know what else I can do.”
“You could talk to me.”
Sic made a sound that was half laugh and half sob. “I don’t think you would understand.”
“Try me.”
Sic shrugged. “I’d rather not.”
Canubis’s eyes turned to small slits. His voice took on a steely quality. “You feel alone, isolated. There is something inside you the people around you don’t have and have no hope to ever understand. You look at them and one moment, they are normal, some of them superior to you, others your friends. The next moment, all you see is servants, people so far beneath you, you’re not even sure if they have any significance at all. You hate yourself for the way you look at them, and yet you can’t help thinking how fragile and unimportant they seem to be. Everything inside you is pure power, but when you let that power out, there is nobody left to play. Does that sum it up?”
Sic stared at Canubis with wide eyes. “How do you know?” Tears slid down Sic’s cheeks, but he did nothing to stop them from falling. “I feel like I’m trapped in my own head, like the world is too tight for me to wear, like the emotions my friends, even Noran, have for me are nothing but a nuisance, like everything I feel is shallow and unreal. I’m walking through a world of shadows, shadows my light creates. And you wonder why I can’t talk about it?”
Canubis held out his arms, and after a moment’s hesitation, Sic stepped into the embrace of his god. “I know, because this is how Renaldo and I have been feeling since the last Spring Ceremony. This is how Renaldo has felt all his life where his fire is concerned. There were days when we both wished we weren’t gods. Days when we thought we couldn’t take it a moment longer.”
Sic looked up into Canubis’s amber eyes that were clouded by unpleasant memories. “How did you survive?”
Canubis smiled sadly. “We are gods. We cannot die.” He paused. “Of course, things became easier after I found Noemi.”
Sic sighed. “Lord Renaldo is suffering badly, isn’t he?”
“With Casto gone, you mean? Yes. It’s really bad, and I don’t know how to break him from it. I may know how to help you, though. As I said, hiding isn’t going to solve your problems. This world fit you once, and it can do so again. For that, you have to face your new reality. Talk to Lukan and Daran. I know you like them both, and Daran is your friend. The three of you have to work this out, because, Sic, there will be more Echend’dim coming. A lot more. As for your other problems—why don’t you talk to Noran? He’s worried about you.”
Sic stepped out of Canubis’s embrace. A hint of red tinged his face. “Master Noran and I—it’s complicated. Even more complicated than this.” Sic gestured at his head. “We’re making progress, but not enough for him to be my anchor yet. I’m still alone.”
The harsh truth in Sic’s words made Canubis flinch. They all needed time to adjust. Unfortunately, time was the one thing they didn’t have.
WHEN SIC returned to their chambers, Noran could tell he was agitated. He rose from his chair and embraced Sic, who buried his face in Noran’s broad chest. “I assume it didn’t go too well?”
Sic made a whimpering sound. Noran stroked his back while he tried to keep his tone as neutral as possible. He didn’t want to burden Sic with his feelings of jealousy. Noran had yet to earn that right. There were a lot of things Sic didn’t tell him, important things that kept his young lover on edge. It was killing Noran that all he could do was offer his support. So far, Sic had only accepted that offer when it concerned the two of them directly. “What can I do to help you?”
Sic looked up. There was a gleam in his eyes, a fever that made Noran shudder. “Please hold me. I need to calm down. And then—then I’m going to tell you about it, and I’m asking you not to be angry with me.”
“I’m not angry with you, my precious. I’m disappointed because you still don’t trust me enough to share all your burdens with me, but I also know it is my fault. I will be patient, I promise.”
Sic snuggled back into Noran’s embrace. “Thank you, Master.”
BANTU WAS busy writing in his journal when the door to his room opened. He smiled. There was only one person who would enter his personal space without announcing themselves. “Cornelia. You’re back early today.”
His sister approached him, dropped a kiss on his head, and slumped into the lounge right next to his desk. She made a huffing sound. “There’s so much to do, what with the upcoming campaign and everything, I didn’t have a chance to sit down for even a moment. So I decided it was time for an early night. All those chores—they’ll still be there tomorrow.”
Bantu chuckled. “You’re right. Chores never just go away. They’re kind of stubborn in that respect.”
Cornelia rolled her eyes. Bantu smiled at her fondly before he concentrated on his journal again. “Just let me finish this, and then we can have a nice cup of tea and some of that delicious oatmeal the cook made today.”
Cornelia nodded. “Sounds like a good idea. Could have been from me.” With that, she closed her eyes and rested her head on the thick cushion. Bantu hurried to finish his writing. When he was done, the siblings went into the main room, called for a slave to bring them their dinner, and then sat down at the small table. They ate in silence for some time. Finally, Cornelia looked up from her empty bowl. Bantu noticed the deep lines around her eyes. The time before a campaign was always stressful, and unfortunately, once the warriors were on their way, the stress didn’t lessen. The workload remained the same; there were just fewer people to shoulder it.
“Are you okay, sister? You look tired.”
“I am.” She smiled reassuringly. “Nothing a good night’s sleep can’t cure. What about you? You seem restless.”
Bantu reached for the teakettle to pour himself another cup. “I am. I’ve been thinking about something for the last few weeks. It wasn’t an easy decision, and I’m pretty sure you won’t like it.” He took a deep breath. “I will accompany Canubis on this campaign. You know how much the Dark Forest fascinates me. This is my chance to explore it.”
Cornelia grabbed her mug so fiercely, her knuckles turned white. “Bantu.”
All of her fear for his safety was in that one word, as well as her love for him. Bantu reached out and gently stroked her hands. “I promise, I’ll be very careful. I did some training rounds with Aegid, and apparently I haven’t lost my touch. I will do additional drills with Kalad until we leave next week. Everything is fine.”
Cornelia straightened her back. She stuck her chin out and pinned Bantu with her glare. “Don’t you dare get hurt, Bantu. Do you hear me? I have enough to worry about as it is.”
It pained Bantu to see Cornelia so shaken, but he really needed to get out of the Valley, and the Dark Forest held a deep fascination for him. It called out to Bantu on a level he couldn’t quite explain. “Everything will be fine, Cornelia. We’ll be back before you have time to miss me.”