a death sentence, but they do it out of love for her, and because she feeds the city.”
That is indeed a hairy, awful situation. “So what do you do?”
“We are trapped right now,” Halla admits, holding onto my arm as we go down the stairs. Her steps are slower, and she holds onto her belly, and then I feel guilty for making a pregnant woman waddle all over this enormous castle. “The sacrifice of a few loyal anchors allows thousands to be fed while Adassia lays siege. But…” Her voice trails off.
Yeah, I see what she means. Do they boot the goddess out of the city or do they let her keep draining anchors? If they force her to leave, will she be angry? If they withhold an anchor from her after she uses this one up, will she remember their cruelty once she ascends again?
It’s a no-win situation.
We return to the queen’s rooms, and I see a pair of men holding plans and discussing as they study the wall that hides the secret passage. I look at them curiously and Halla speaks. “We’re bricking it up so the enemy cannot use the passage against us. It has been sealed on the other side, the statue destroyed.”
“Ah.” I look at the little boy, playing near the skirts of his nursemaid. “What if you have to leave in a hurry?”
“That is not the only hidden passage out of the keep,” Halla admits with a tiny smile. “If we must run, there are many ways to go. But hopefully it will not be necessary now that Lord Aron fights on our side.” Her hand grips mine. “And if we work together, perhaps we will be able to bring things to a close sooner rather than later. The men like war, but all I want is to be able to raise my family in peace.”
I squeeze her fingers back, nervous at the intense look she gives me. She seems to think I know how to stop things? I can’t even get Magra to take a message written exclusively for her.
This world has shown me time and time again that I don’t matter. That I’m nothing in the scheme of things. I’m not the one brought here to bring forth change. It’s Aron and all the others…isn’t it?
You will meet your destiny on the plains of Yshrem.
Or was that a hint? Is there something else I should be doing?
I shake my head at Halla. “I wish I could do more. I’m just one person. I’m not super strong. I’m not super smart. I’m just an outsider who got caught up with Aron because no one else wanted his arrogant ass.”
“You’re brave,” she tells me simply. “Sometimes that’s all we need.”
The day is long as hell. I pace Halla’s rooms, trying to watch the battle going on below. Part of me wants to put on some armor and a helmet and join them, because then I’d at least be doing something, but I know the biggest thing I can do is stay safe so they have Aron at the front. So I eat, and pace, and play with baby Alistair. I chat with Halla. I stare at all of the books in the room that I can’t read as Halla pages through an old tome.
“What’s that about?” I ask at one point.
“It’s a recording of the last Anticipation,” she says. “Six hundred years ago.” She gestures at one page with a delicate hand. “Recordings of sightings of gods, who fought alongside who, and for how long it went on.”
“How long did it go on?”
“Ten years.” She grimaces. “Let us pray that is not the case this time.”
“Yeah,” I say faintly. Ten years with Aron would be amazing. Not enough, but still amazing. I think of what the Spidae said, how I’m not getting out of this alive. It could be a lie. I feign idle curiosity. “Does it say what happened to the anchors of the gods that won? The last ones left standing?”
She shakes her head. “The anchors are rarely mentioned by name.”
“Of course not,” I say sarcastically. “Why would we be important, right?” Just to my Aron.
Only to my Aron.
The men return at dusk, dirty, sweaty, and covered in shallow wounds. The queen panics at the sight of her husband sporting a broken arrow out of one large shoulder. Aron’s riddled with them, but he’s also invulnerable. It’s clear the king’s in some pain, and the queen insists in him going to the