Page 418 of Of Empires and Dust

Baren had used her like a tool, like a thing to be bargained. He had taken her son from her, taken her love. He had done so many things, and Alina hated him for them. She hated him. How could he have done those things to her? She was his sister, his little sister.

But even then, with all that hatred swirling in her, she felt her heart twist at the sight of Dayne holding their brother in his arms like a babe, blood smeared over Baren’s broken body.

She had not even reached Dayne when he collapsed to his knees, holding Baren close.

The sight of it broke her.

Alina dropped to the ground before her brothers and brushed the hair from Baren’s face. “We did it, big brother. We did it.” The tears that flowed came upon her like a broken dam.“I wish everything had been different. I wish with all my heart that I didn’t hate you and love you at the same time.” She leaned over her dead brother’s body and wrapped her arms around Dayne, pressing her cheek to his.

“We did it,” Dayne whispered, repeating her words. “Valtara is free.”

“Valtara is free,” Alina answered.

Dayne pulled away for a moment, tears and blood marring his face. “There is something else.”

Alina narrowed her eyes, but before Dayne could say a word, Belina came closer and she saw the child at the woman’s side.

Alina shook, every piece of her body trembling, every shred of her soul and her heart bleeding. “Arkin?”

“Who are you?” the boy responded, his voice soft and full of uncertainty.

Alina knew her son. He had those same blue eyes, that dark brown hair that curled a little to the left. And he bore that same mark on his cheek that he’d been born with.

Alina shuffled forwards on her knees until she reached Arkin. She wiped her bloodied hands on her skirts, then wrapped her arms so tightly around him that it pained her battered bones. “I’m your mother,” she said, drawing in a sniffling breath. “I’m your mother, Arkin. And I love you, and I’m never letting you go again.” She drew another long breath, closing her eyes as she held the son she had thought long lost. “I’m your mother,” she said again. The words were almost more for herself than for Arkin. “I’m yours.”

Chapter 96

Shades of Grey

25thDay of the Blood Moon

Temple of Achyron – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom

Kallinvar rubbedhis fingers into his temples, trying without success to ease the ache in his head. Even with the healing of Heraya’s Well, his body groaned as he sat in the chair behind Verathin’s desk.

Rain drummed against the window behind him, and the candle had run low, its flame the last source of light in the study. He pushed himself back in the chair and looked over the desk and the piles of books. Those he’d found in Gildrick’s study, and others Poldor had brought to him – all with missing pages. The journals of the old Grandmasters were splayed about the desk, ribbons marking pages Kallinvar had thought important. There seemed to be about a thousand.

With Gildrick gone, Kallinvar had decided to spend his time in the temple, searching desperately for any hint of what theWatcher had found before he’d died. It seemed an impossible task, but so too was chasing every convergence that emerged across the continent while the Blood Moon tainted the sky.

If Poldor was right and Gildrick had indeed found something, Kallinvar needed to know what it was. Anything, any hint or clue, was better than sending the knights to die in battle after battle that meant nothing.

They had lost so many knights since the Blood Moon had risen that Kallinvar barely recognised his own brothers and sisters. And he finally understood why it had taken Verathin so long to replenish the knighthood. His old friend had been slow and careful in his selection, something Kallinvar could not afford to be. Many of these new knights held the hearts and minds of a knight but lacked the skills and battle constitution. Some had borne the Sigil less than a day before meeting their ends.

And many knew the ways of war but lacked the qualities of the heart and soul.

Kallinvar had tried to take the front foot, tried to stop sitting around and waiting, stop reacting and startacting. But now he knew he had been playing into Efialtír’s hands. He had weakened his own position, and when the time came –ifthe time came – that Fane or the Bloodspawn tried to use the Heart to cross Efialtír, the knighthood would be too weak to fight them.

As he spoke, he could feel Sister-Captain Olyria and half the knighthood battling through a Lorian fort on the northern fringes of Lodhar.

The days were fast fading, and the Blood Moon would soon set. If they did not find the Heart before then, he would at least take solace in the fact that he would have four hundred more years to do so.

“I wasn’t built for this, Verathin,” Kallinvar whispered. “My place is in battle, beside my brothers and sisters, with aSoulblade in my fist and Bloodspawn beneath my boot. The pages of history were always your domain.”

The lack of an answer cut into him.

“You always used silence to win our arguments.” Kallinvar let out a long sigh. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept for longer than an hour. His eyes stung, and his neck was stiff as a board.

“This is hopeless,” he whispered to himself. He felt as though he had read through every book in the temple a thousand times, though he knew he’d barely scratched the surface.

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