Page 63 of The Cruel Dawn
We pass the center table. On my last early morning here, Gileon Wake sat at this table with Jadon across from him. That’s when I discovered Jadon’s identity: a prince, not a blacksmith by the surname “Ealdrehrt.” Olivia Ealdrehrt was not Jadon’s sister but rather Olivia Corby, a rich girl who didn’t want to marry a prince she didn’t love. It feels a lifetime ago.
At the bar, Separi pours me a glass of rum. “It wouldn’t be safe for us to show our true selves. The humans of Caburh—and even a few Renrian sympathizers—blame us for this depression. They claim it’s happened because of our so-called treachery. They believe that we conspired with you to keep them down, that we believe ourselves to be better than they are.”
“Oh, but youarebetter than them,” I say, chuckling. “You’ve given so much to Vallendor and the realms. Your influence moves beyond this space. What have humans done beyond killing each other, overpopulating the realm, destroying the forests and seas, and stinking up the place?”
Separi’s lips quirk into a smile, though her eyes remain somber. “It’s kind of you to say that, but the truth is more complex. Our work is often invisible to those who benefit from it and misunderstood by those who fear it.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the shiny bar top. “Invisible or not, it’s undeniable. You’ve preserved the Aetherium’s stories—the rise and fall of its ancient cities, the wisdom of its sages. Without the Renrian archives, humans wouldn’t even know how the nightstar affects the tides or the seasons.”
The songs of Vallendor were nearly lost during the War of Flames. Renrians recovered them one fragment at a time, recording them in bound texts and teaching them among traveling bards, so that they could live again in the hearts of the people. During the Plague of Silver Ash, Renrian alchemists found the cure. While humans burned villages to purge the sick, the folk with the lavender eyes saved thousands of lives. Renrians recorded how to build aqueducts that provided clean water, and they placed ward-stones around the forest borders to keep the otherworldly from devouring travelers.
Separi lets her head fall with the weight of her responsibility. “I feel guilty for the subterfuge.”
I lift my glass of rum. “I feel awful for what you have to do for your people’s safety. AndIapologize for bringing more attention to you and your home.”
Separi smiles at me, but her eyes gleam with tears.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, sipping rum.
“I not only fear for us,” she admits, “but I also fear for Philia. They remember that she arrived here as a member of your party. That she, too, killed a few of Wake’s men.”
The rum burns my belly and rides up my throat. “Oh,” I murmur, remembering.
Philia had held her own with a bow and arrow, killing at least six of Wake’s soldiers before being injured in the fight. She stayed here with Separi and her wife, Ridget, as Jadon and I chased after Gileon.
“Is she doing okay?” I ask.
Separi beckons me to follow her behind the bar and down a flight of dimly lit stairs.
The young redheaded woman stands at the bottom of the landing. “Kai!” Philia whispers, her voice laced with relief.
Thinner now, Philia glows a brassy amber and wears the dulled sage-green dress that she’d worn on the day we first met in Maford. Olivia had sewn this outfit, and it now hangs on Philia’s frame like a mother’s frock on her toddler daughter.
“Phily!” I hop down the rest of the stairs and pull her into a hug. My spirit lifts—I didn’t know I’d be this excited to see her again.
Separi stays up at the bar.
“Did Separi tell you that they’re watching everything we do?” Philia asks.
“Yeah.” I hug her again, and just like that, her glow transforms into a healthy blue.
Philia’s secret bedroom is cramped, with only enough space for a bed and a small table that holds a few books and trinkets. The walls are bare, and the only source of light comes from a small window high up near the ceiling. The air smells musty, as if that window has never been opened.
Philia manages a quick smile, and a spark ignites in her eyes despite the fatigue that clings to her. “So…” Philia searches the empty space behind me. “Where are they?”
“Where are…who?”
“Jadon and Olivia?” Her eyes bug, and her face crumples. “Are theydead? They didn’t survive the journey here?” Tears explode in those green eyes and tumble down her patchy-pink cheeks. “What happened, Kai?”
“I don’t know where Olivia is, exactly,” I say, “and Jadon’s in jail. It’s complicated.”
“What’s complicated about helping your friends?” she snaps.
“Friends?” I retort bitterly. “Two people who lied to me the entire time we spent together? A thief who stole the clothesoff my backand the amulet from around my neck? A man who hid his identity from me even to the very end, shit you don’t even know about because you weren’t there at the Sea of Devour?Friends?”
“Since you haven’t been helping them,” Philia spits, “what have you been doing?”
Helping people make babies. Providing protection from travelers. Big Realm Shit.
