Page 73 of The Cruel Dawn
I asked neither of my companions to come with me, but Philia wanted to help save Olivia, and Separi wanted to help keep me alive. She knows that, despite my display of power, I’m not whole, that I could use her staff as well as her skills with plants and crafting—and she also knows that mine can be a lonely existence, and I appreciate her company.
Philia clears her throat and says, “Kai?”
I look over and see that clouds have formed in her eyes.
“I need to tell you something,” she says. “Something about Veril and my family.”
I wait a long time as she struggles with her words before prompting her to continue.
“Veril had a scar,” she says.
“Yes, a small pearly one right here.” I touch my cheek. “What about it?”
“Back when my father was mayor of Maford,” she says, “he and his drunk friends broke into Veril’s home one night. They demanded that he perform magic tricks, and sing and dance. Veril refused; he wasn’t a minstrel or a fool, but my father and his friends didn’t like that he told them no, and so… So they destroyed everything in his cottage.
“Pages of study? Gone. Powders to make new treatments and improve old ones? Gone. There was this one medicine he made for chest coughs? They destroyed that one, too.
“And then they pushed him over, and my dad…” Philia swallows and swipes at her tears. “My dad pulled out his dagger and—” She taps her cheek. “That’s how Veril got his scar. Philip Wysor was an ugly man who made beautiful glass, and he got very sick and died the way he deserved: slowly and in great agony. The coughing powder he destroyed could’ve saved his despicable life.”
Separi looks over to Philia, and then she glances at me. She touches Veril’s fox pendant that hangs around her neck.
“I knew who my father was. I was scared of him, and I hated him.” Philia dries her face with the backs of her hands. “But Veril…we didn’t get along at first. I hated him because I was supposed to.
“But he made me want to be a better person, a better student. I’d go out to the woods to bring him herbs and plants. I’d watch him brew. He became like…like an uncle to me, one who knew so many things and appreciated that I was smart.”
My stomach growls.
Philia hears my hunger and laughs. “My confession made you hungry?”
I laugh, too. “I think Veril knew how you felt about him. He would be proud to see you riding with me.” Separi doesn’t look at us, but she doesn’t contradict me, either.
Philia nods, her expression lighter already.
We stop in a sheltered outcropping that overlooks the forest. There, we tie up the horses, and Separi prepares breakfast. We keep watch for any threats even as we eat.
I swallow the last bite of my sandwich and say, “So, Brithellum.”
“Minimal casualties,” Separi says.
On the dirt between us, the Renrian spreads out a map of Brithellum and weighs the corners with rocks.
“The walls are known to be impenetrable from the outside,” Separi says. “Rocks fortified by ward-stones. The only way in is sneaking through.”
“Here,” I say, pointing to a tiny notch at the southern wall. “Gileon’s suites.”
Separi leans in, her eyes narrowed. “Yes, but it’s risky. Too narrow for a quick escape.”
“I’ll have to take the risk. We need that ring.”
“Minimal casualties,” Separi repeats. “Wake is smart; he’s integrated his soldiers throughout the city with families and innocents. Aphids among roses.”
“Which means,” I say, “that I must treat the entire infested garden.”
“With fire, wind, and lightning?” Separi asks, eyes wide.
“Yes, unless they surrender Olivia or the ring first.”
“I like Kai’s plan,” Philia blurts. “Fire, wind, and lightning if they resist.”
