Page 64 of Kissed By the Gods
Mind your steps, and heed this rhyme.
The gods left Elandors Veil outside mortal grime.
A tear in the world where lost souls climb.
Venture too high and the Veil will keep you for all time.
Traditional Faraengardian rhyme
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Kiernan doesn’t speak.He’s fallen to the back of our little group as we climb the mountains. Leif’s at my side, muttering curses under his breath. Faelon’s ahead, making pithy comments we’re all ignoring.
The path twists higher through the mountains than I expect—narrow and steep. Fog swallows the Synod behind us, until all that remains is stone, wind, and sky. The crown of Godswatch Peak is buried in these dense clouds.
“Why did you lose so many men this year?” I ask Leif, my voice a murmur. For once, I don’t worry about others overhearing. This fog absorbs everything. “Is that normal?”
He looks over at me but takes a minute to answer as he methodically navigates each treacherous step.
“No,” he finally answers, his voice carefully even. “It’s not normal.” There’s another heavy pause before he goes on. “Aelric disappeared right before you arrived, actually. He didn’t come back from a patrol mission. I want to think he’s alive, but normally when someone goes missing on a patrol mission the archons send out search and rescue teams. This time, though,the Elder refused to send out teams, so the rumor is he somehow knows that Aelric’s dead.”
“As for the rest … They died in a single battle. I was the only ward they managed to save, and Kiernan wasn’t there because he doesn’t have his faravar yet.”
“But I thought Stormriven had one of the highest survival rates in the Synod?”
“We do,” Leif said. “Thanks to Ryot. But that battle was—” He stops. Just cuts off, as if he can’t get the words out.
Faelon—who I didn’t even know was listening—finishes, as serious as I’ve ever heard him. “That battle was like Kheris herself tore open the Veil and reached out with bloodied claws to drag us from the sky.”
Fuck.
“You’re falling behind!” Thalric shouts.
“Get up here or there’ll be hells to pay!” This from Caius.
We bolt—Kiernan, Leif, Faelon, and me. The air’s thinner here, and I’m doing my best not to sound like I’m choking on it. My legs ache. My vision tunnels. But I don’t stop.
Several grueling minutes later, we catch up, chests heaving. The silence stretches for so long I’m sure no one has the breath to speak, until Faelon says quietly, “Sweet Serephelle, Kiernan. You stink, man.”
Kiernan flushes a bright red. “Fuck you, Faelon.”
“Hush, you two,” Caius says, but he puts a hand on Kiernan’s shoulder. “You men,” Caius stops himself, shoots me an embarrassed look. “Youall—go ahead. We’ll catch up.”
Thalric nods and we continue up the path. Kiernan and Caius disappear from view within seconds as we climb on, but I can still smell Kiernan’s fear and hear the beginning of their conversation.
“Building a wall around your mind doesn’t make sense, Master Caius. Is there a different metaphor?” Kiernan asks, his voice cracking with panic.
“It’s not a metaphorical wall, Kiernan,” Caius replies, his patience clearly stretched thin. “It’s one you train into existence. Like this …”
I prick my ears, eager to hear the lesson, but the fog is so thick it blocks the sound.
Our group moves on in near silence, and we climb for three more hours before the fog disappears, rolling away as if it had never been to reveal the sun nearing mid-day. Here, the air is thin and sharp with the altitude.A metallic scent rides the breeze—lightning and rain and sun-warmed feathers. My skin prickles. The hairs on my arms lift. We round the final bend, and the mountain opens before us.
The galehold is unlike anything I could’ve imagined.
