11

THE INVENTION OF FIRE

Keterlyn lived in a cabin outside of the palace, surrounded by the royal gardens. If I remembered correctly, her place had once belonged to the groundskeepers. I didn’t have the energy to ask how she’d ended up living there.

She got a fire going and Leotin and I sat huddled in front of it while she brewed us tea. I still didn’t fully trust her, but I couldn’t turn down the hospitality, or the possibility of one more ally.

Keterlyn’s cabin was small and comfortable. Shelves lined the walls, holding both books and glass jars containing a wide variety of oddities. One was filled to the top with spider legs, another with eyes. Many contained leaves or dried mushrooms or flowers I’d never even seen before.

She brought us chamomile tea and then sat down with us in front of the fire, hands held out in search of warmth. I sipped the tea, hesitating only for a moment to consider the possibility of poison, before dismissing it. She still seemed genuinely shaken up by what she’d seen in that room, and neither Leotin or Hustir seemed troubled by her presence. That was good enough for me.

Husir curled up next to Keterlyn. Surprised, she smiled and patted her. I said, “Her affection is as much of a test as the fire is.”

“I’m glad to have passed it.”

Leotin frowned down at the tea. “You don’t have any beer, do you?”

“Just tea.”

I watched Keterlyn closely. “You didn’t seem all that surprised to find out that the Vald were real.”

“I’ve never pretended to know what is and isn’t out there,” she said. “When there are enough stories about a thing existing, I tend to want to believe there’s some truth to it. Then, when I saw Emrik’s body…”

“The eye,” I said.

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Keterlyn nodded. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t explain it. I knew it wasn’t natural.”

I drank the tea, savoring the way it warmed my throat. “Islana said she’s known about them for some time. That she has allies in the Howling Hall who are also aware.”

“Did she name any of them?”

I shook my head. “I should’ve asked.”

“If these things can take the form of others,” Leotin said, “none of them can be trusted. Ally or not.”

“We can test them with fire,” I said.

The big man shifted uncomfortably. “We could. But we don’t even know if that actually works.”

“It should,” Keterlyn said. “All the stories say that—”

“Do you really want to put your life in the hands of such stories?”

“It’s just about the only thing we have going for us,” I said.

“There’s one other thing.” Keterlyn stared into the fire. “A way to reveal the Vald.”

“I’m listening.”

“Godhead mushrooms.”

Leotin’s skeptical look mirrored my thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“They’re sacred,” Keterlyn explained. “They allow one to see reality as it truly is, not just how it presents itself. The Vald have hunted us before. Civilization drove them into the wild, and if the old texts are true, we used Godhead mushrooms and flame to banish them.”

I leaned forward. “So if I take them, I’ll be able to see them?”

“I believe so. You should be able to see through their disguise.”

I’d taken Godhead mushrooms several times throughout my life. As a young warrior, I’d eaten them before battle in order to channel the Lord of War. Then, as my connection to the divine had grown weaker, I’d occasionally used them in rituals in an attempt to strengthen my bond with the gods. Never to any avail. But I remembered well the way they’d changed my vision and made the world ripple, the way they’d brightened lights and altered all of my senses. It was hard to imagine myself in such a state fighting monsters.

“The problem,” said Keterlyn, “is that it’s not the season for them.”

“You don’t happen to have any on hand, do you?”

She shook her head. “They don’t preserve well. It isn’t impossible to find them, but…”

“You think you can do it?”

“I’ll try.”

That would have to do. I finished my tea and watched the convulsions of the fire. How long had the Vald been out there? Had they been our constant companions since our forging by the gods, lurking at the edges of the world, watching? I’d heard it said that the first tool devised by humankind had been fire. Perhaps we hadn’t been so desperate for it because we’d been scared of the dark, but rather, because we knew exactly what was waiting for us in the dark.