"I may have something for you," Adrian said to Cedric one day, their third since leaving Borne. The beginnings of dusk were settling upon their now-substantial band of travelers.

Adrian set the gently-steaming iron pot on the ground and kicked several sheafs of loose dirt over what remained of the embers.

"Don't keep me in suspense," Cedric said, turning from the freshly-erected tent.

"If it works, it'll hide you better than your… previous methods could."

Adrian still guarded his speech, even as Gideon and Yael were settled in the wagon for the night, well out of earshot. Mother and son had hardly spoken to anyone but each other the past two days, and only in furtive mutterings and quick remarks. They'd mostly ridden silently under the shabby canopy and, come mealtime, accepted whatever meager portion Cedric and Adrian's supplies, as well as their own, could afford.

When it'd become clear that Cedric couldn't possibly cloak himself over the whole journey, and that he'd be forced to reveal his presence to these strangers, he and Adrian had initially agonized over what fiction they could possibly spin to explain his sudden appearance. Candra had then offered an entirely different perspective.

"Neither Gideon nor Yael will even ask," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She, Adrian, and Cedric had been on their way to retrieve the individuals in question, a returned Nightwind trotting alongside them. "You and your fancy horse are their last hope. Why would they poke their noses into what doesn't concern them and risk their last chance?"

"Cedric's still got a bounty on his head," Adrian argued.

She snorted. "Right now, they're more concerned with simple survival than impossible riches, and they'll rein in their curiosities accordingly. Besides, I know Yael as an acquaintance. Milk maids are less docile than she is."

So far, Candra had proven correct. Gideon merely risked the occasional wary glance at Cedric, a stranger who'd apparently materialized out of nowhere, and if Yael harbored any questions about what her son relayed to her, she kept them to herself.

Candra rolled out her blanket, one of the few items she'd brought from home, and took a seat. She withdrew her pipe and cloth wallet, then filled the former with the contents of the latter.

"Do you mind?" She held out the pipe in Cedric's general direction.

"The embers have already gone out," he said, with a small surge of relief.

Candra grumbled as she put away the pipe. "Don't think I haven't noticed," she said.

"Noticed what?"

"What a skittish wood-mouse you've been around me." She patted the spot beside her in invitation.

Adrian hadn't heard this exchange, as he was preoccupied with his newest creation. Cedric considered, then joined Candra on the blanket. He was careful to avoid brushing her.

"For what it's worth," she murmured. "I'm sorry that your first came about the way it did. But there will always be a second, then a third…"

Cedric swallowed against a rising blush. He didn't want to think about Candra in the new light of his predecessor's memories, and he especially didn't want to talk about them with her.

"Someday, you'll find your own special someone to tumble about with. Memories, no matter whose, will always pale in comparison to real experiences."

"Yet you'd willingly end your part in them?"

Candra stiffened, and her wry smile faded.

"The day I came to your door, there was a vial on your table. Your cupboards were bare but for some wine and a few biscuits. Enough for a few days at most."

Candra retrieved the tiny glass bottle from her pocket and rolled it between her fingers. "One could say you saved my life, knocking when you did," she said.

"Why? Why would you…?"

"Because I saw no path forward that appealed to me." She bit her lower lip. "And truthfully, I was ready to be done with this whole rotten business."

Cedric hesitated. "And now?"

"I'll linger on, see where this new pursuit takes me, and once my interest wanes… " She tilted her head and stuck her tongue out in a macabre insinuation, then laughed hollowly. "Worry not, I don't anticipate this particular adventure losing intrigue before its conclusion. I'm with you to the end, Cedric. For better or worse." She pocketed the bottle.

Whatever else Cedric felt about Candra, he knew she'd keep her word on this; so strong was her fear--and guilt--of another mad Rava that she'd risked others' lives to quash even the possibility of it.

"You shouldn't do it," Cedric said haltingly. "Even after this is over. It'd be a waste."

"Don't say things for the sake of politeness. We both know you hold little fondness for me."

"No, I'm not--" he growled. "A free life is precious, and to throw it away like it means nothing… " He hunched forward and hugged his knees. "Well, I'd have given anything for one."

"Are you trying to shame me? You're craftier than I took you for."

Cedric scoffed. "I doubt I occupy that level of regard in your heart."

They sat quietly for a few minutes as the remnants of daylight faded.

"Have you given any more thought to your affinity for the black diamond?" Candra said.

"I keep thinking back to that day in the Silken Hog. Those men holding me seemed to lose their memory of what was happening, and I was able to free myself in their confusion."

"You must have tampered with their minds. It's not so different from your cloaking."

"How?"

"From what you've told me, you don't make yourself vanish--you prevent others from seeing you. Their attention slides off like hot butter. What is that if not interfering in their thoughts?"

Cedric's stomach clenched. "I never considered… Could I have done harm?"

"In regard to your cloaking, I'd suspect not. Concerning your more direct assault on those two men at the tavern, possibly. But you couldn't have extracted much power from three small rubies."

"Do all gemstones that aren't diamonds hold the Axes, too?"

"Miniscule amounts, yes. Emeralds, sapphires, rubies, amethysts, and so on--they're called the lesser stones. Most Apostles boast at least one generational trinket. Diamonds are all they're barred from."

"Because the Divine Heirs have laid claim upon them," Cedric said bitterly. "And so the world crumbles, and the Goddess perishes."

She took a few seconds to digest what he said. "Is that the cause of all this, then?" she murmured. "Plundering Eris' most precious bounties has doomed us all?"

Cedric nodded into his knees.

"Then you must know the futility of your mission. Regardless of whether you win your confrontation with Ayo and Asha..."

"I know."

Night had fallen. Cedric felt his body relax as the darkness folded around him like an old friend. Yael and Gideon were asleep, their breaths measured and slow. Adrian, on the other hand, lay wide awake. As soon as Cedric joined him in the tent, he'd no doubt demand every juicy little detail of this conversation.

"Then I suggest you think upon this, Cedric," Candra said. "Your siblings far surpass you in age and raw power, but how have your experiences distinguished you from them? What do you have that they do not? This may serve as your sole advantage."

She stood up, waited for Cedric to do the same, and picked up her blanket. "And with that, I'll bid you good evening." She left to join Yael and Gideon in the wagon.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Adrian's eyes were beady and alert when Cedric crawled in beside him.

"Well?" he demanded in hushed tones, propped on an elbow. "What was that about?"

Cedric folded his hands across his stomach and wriggled to settle in as comfortably as the hard ground allowed. Once again, he found himself dearly missing Destrius' bouncy mattress and luxurious silken sheets.

"You were right about Candra's vial," he said. "She'd been on the verge of taking it."

"I could sense that poison from her doorstep." He paused. "You saved her life."

Cedric sighed. "But for how long?"

"Well, that's her choice to make." Adrian paused. "You never told me exactly what happened at her house, the night we left. You took her hand, then you both recoiled…"

Cedric hoped that Adrian didn't sense the sudden tension in his body. He couldn't possibly, not when they weren't even touching. Nonetheless, Adrian stilled as well; Cedric could sense it in the darkness, along with a hitch in his heartbeat and breathing.

"She and Rava… er… my predecessor…" Cedric swallowed against a dry throat. "They were… involved."

"But what does that have to do with you?"

"When we touched, I experienced memories that weren't mine."

"I don't--oh…" Adrian pondered. "Were they… good?"

A giddy snort burst from Cedric, surprising even himself. "You're not serious!"

"You'd fault me for wondering?"

"It--it was--" He threw up his arms. "Even if I wanted to describe it, which I don't--"

"Oh, go on. Start from the beginning, details as they come to you."

"What details?"

"You tell me!"

Part of Cedric wanted to laugh. Another part wanted to smother Adrian with one of Destrius' giant pillows. And the last part, a terrifyingly powerful one, longed to reach out and yank him closer, to seize his jaw in his hand, to sate some desperate new hunger that--

Cedric quickly rolled onto his side, away from Adrian. His heart thundered vigorously in his chest, fueled by the heady intoxication of novelty.

*

Adrian's invention was not for drinking, but for direct application to the eyes. Cedric tried unsuccessfully to keep the trepidation off his face.

"It's safe, I promise," Adrian said the next morning, after they'd packed up camp. He handed Cedric a walnut-sized vial of vibrant blue liquid. "One drop per eye should do."

Cedric bit his lip. "I'd better not wake up blind."

Adrian crossed his arms while also suppressing a smile. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were questioning my abilities."

His skin was golden in the rising sun, the edges of his thick, dark hair framed in fiery red. Cedric couldn't deny that his regard of Adrian had permanently shifted, but the stark lucidity of daytime had somewhat defanged the ravenous beast in his chest. He could even pretend that the sight of his friend in the morning light didn't remotely stir his heart.

Cedric uncorked the bottle. "Just one drop?"

"Get on with it." Adrian said, eager to witness the fruits of his ingenuity.

He tilted his head back and, courtesy of unsteady fingers, emptied substantially more than the appointed amount. He blinked the surplus away in icy rivulets down his cheeks, then looked back at Adrian.

"Well?" Cedric said. He felt no different, which he supposed was a good sign.

Adrian was staring at him with a mixture of fascination, alarm, and even some disgust. He chuckled, low and humorless. "Oh, it worked. But… they're horrible." His arms crossed tighter. "Uncanny on you."

Cedric yearned for a reflective surface, but they couldn't waste time finding or creating one. And if he were truly free of the need to conceal himself, thanks to the masking of his most distinctive feature, he couldn't possibly ask for more.

"Good," Cedric said, corking the bottle and putting it in his pocket. "I promise to never doubt your abilities again."

Adrian swept an arm toward the wagon. "Shall we?"

Gideon, who was seated near the back with his mother, did a comical double take upon sight of Cedric.

"Your eyes," he blurted out, the first words he'd spoken to anyone but Yael since their travels had begun.

"My eyes," Cedric agreed with an affirming nod. He flicked Nightwind's reins, and the wheels of their shabby transport groaned reluctantly to life.

"Th--they were dark. What in Eris'--"

"Come up here to ask your questions, if you must."

Adrian shot him a concerned look. Cedric responded with a raised brow and shrug. They waited nearly a minute for Gideon to work up his resolve and clamber along the wagon's length to sit behind them.

Cedric could feel the boy's burning gaze on his back. "Well? You're curious about my eyes?" He turned to Gideon, and saw that his were as round as plates.

"My friend--" he nodded at Adrian, "--invented a formula to change their color."

"For good?" Gideon asked.

"No," Adrian said. His tone was clipped. "It'll wear off in a day. Needs repeated applications."

"Anything else on your mind?" Cedric said. He glanced at Candra, who was observing them with faintly intrigued amusement.

Gideon set his jaw, appearing to have conquered the last of his trepidation. "Aye. Who are you? Where'd you come from? You're no local, and you can't have been stuffed in the saddlebags."

"I'm a friend," Cedric said.

"And I'm not stupid," the boy declared. "Ever since I saw your eyes--your real eyes--" his voice grew louder, more eager, "And now to see you cover them up--"

"Gideon," Adrian said sharply. "Some things need not be said."

A tense silence filled the wagon.

"You'll keep to your word?" Gideon finally said, timid and small. "Take us to the capital?"

"Of course. We made you a promise," Cedric said. "Besides, Candra and I have pressing business in Crystallinus."

"What sort of business?"

Adrian shot Cedric a wordless yet eloquent look: You opened the floodgates. Enjoy.

*

"I can't fathom why you'd indulge Gideon's curiosity," Adrian said that night, after a meager supper of dried meat and dates. "He and his mother were faring just fine with their own company."

"We've still got weeks of travelling ahead of us," Cedric said. He turned on his side toward Adrian. "They would have worked out the truth regardless. Gideon suspected at first sight."

"You needn't help them along."

"I wanted to… lighten the atmosphere, I suppose. Dispel the discomfort."

"And if their first order of business after arrival is to run straight to an Apostle?"

"That was always a risk, Adrian. But I don't think they will."

"Because you're such an authority on human nature."

"You didn't," Cedric said. "Alvir wouldn't have, even if I'd nothing to offer him. Jana may have considered it, but he'd have convinced her not to." His fingers found a tuft of dry grass and began to pull. "It may be foolish, but I don't believe that money will always take precedence. I can't believe that."

"I see… Your brilliant strategy is to force Yael and Gideon to like you."

"We're already off to a good start, right?"

Adrian shook his head. "Eris help you if you're wrong."

"I have you. No need to invoke the Goddess."

He snorted. "Aye, I'll be sure to set Ayo and Asha scattering when they come for you."

Cedric's mostly-empty stomach clenched at the thought of it. As much as he'd tried to reassure Adrian as well as himself, the not-unlikely prospect of his spiritual kin accosting him personally was an outcome that he was entirely unequipped to handle. Would the black diamond's cloaking even work on them?

These worries should have occupied the whole of Cedric's mind that night. Instead, to his chagrin, his thoughts strayed inexorably to the person lying beside him in the darkness. That tantalizing urge to reach out for him had returned with the setting sun, and with nothing else to occupy Cedric's mind and body.

He cursed Candra. He cursed his predecessor. He cursed himself for falling prey to emotions and impulses that weren't his own. He also thought longingly of the times when it'd just been the two of them, when he'd foolishly taken their intimacy for granted. He thought of Destrius' guest chambers, where Adrian had laid mere inches from him. If Cedric had reached out then, crossed that invisible boundary, what response would he have been met with?

As with the previous night, Cedric did not rest particularly well.

*

The following days were among the hottest that any of the travelers had endured. One night in particular was so stifling that proper sleep was impossible, which produced a universally irritable group at breakfast.

Fortunately, Gideon and Yael's growing ease with the rest of their company helped to somewhat alleviate the cumulative miseries of climate, limited supplies, and slow travel. They often passed the time chatting with Adrian, Cedric, or Candra; it was Yael who finally shared how she and her son had found themselves left behind in Borne.

"Plenty offered to take us with them," she said, wiping a sheen of sweat from her forehead that would soon be replaced. "But Gideon's father, my husband, had fallen terribly ill. He couldn't travel and we wouldn't leave him behind, as I was admittedly clinging to some desperate hope of recovery. By the time he'd finally passed on, the town we called home had been hollowed out and left for dead, and us with it."

She turned her head in Candra's general direction. "What of you, Candra? You were the only other local left."

"One last dress to repair," she said lightly, swigging from a wineskin. "The blasted thing wouldn't cooperate, and I'm a perfectionist by nature."

Yael was clearly affronted by her glibness, but didn't challenge it.

Candra also spent long periods apprising Cedric of everything regarding Crystallinus, particularly its fortifications, customs, and castes. Neither of them guarded their speech, not even Adrian when he volunteered questions and comments. The three of them had reached an unspoken consensus: open, frequent conversation on such a crucial mission took precedence over holding back from those they'd already decided to trust.

"To gain entry into the capital, your simplest recourse would be to cloak yourself and slip in when the gates open for others," Candra said one evening. She'd started a tiny fire, with Cedric's assistance, and was lighting her pipe with the end of a smoldering stick. "Unfortunately, you'd then be alone in a massive, unfamiliar city, liable to be imprisoned when your cloaking inevitably fails and you're seen bare-palmed." She raised her left, where the sigil of the Second Caste had been scorched away before her banishment from Crystallinus. "You wouldn't be recognized, thanks to Adrian's formula, but the city's enforcement would gladly interrogate you for your infiltration methods."

"But you've told me all about the Vault," Cedric said. "Surely a few hours are sufficient for my journey there?"

"You cannot cloak yourself from the Heirs. And unless you're happy to charge in blind..."

Cedric's heart sank. "You know this for certain?"

"Blessed Ones cannot interfere with each other's minds via the Axes. Hence their immunity to the Madness." She expelled twin gouts of smoke from her nostrils.

He considered. "Then I'll need to deceive my way into the Citadel, under some pretense or guise. Avoid head-on confrontation inasmuch as that's possible, to give myself the best chance."

"It appears so," Candra agreed. She rose to her feet and swept at her skirts, pipe clamped between her teeth. "I'll inform you of any inspiration that deigns to strike me. Good night."

"Wait," Cedric said quietly. He hadn't risen, and looked up to meet Candra's gaze. "How often have Heirs exchanged memories across incarnations?"

"It's not uncommon. Many newly-Named Heirs have sensed fragments of their predecessors' memories among the servants, advisors, and especially courtesans of the Citadel." Candra shifted a little. "The stronger their personal connections to the predecessor, the more vivid the remembrance."

"Have these memories ever… changed them? Shaped their thoughts, their behaviors?"

Candra was smiling in a way he did not particularly care for. "At most, these memories would nudge open a door that was already there."

Cedric promptly stood and bid her goodnight, eager to be out of range of her far-too-knowing eyes.