Grace's expression shifted from astonishment to perplexed uncertainty upon seeing Cedric's false blue eyes.

"I--I'm sorry," she said, brow furrowed. "I mistook you for someone I--"

Cedric swept her up in his arms. She half-laughed, half-yelped as her feet left the ground.

The lovely scent of her hair transported him instantly back to a bygone time, when the mark of a worthwhile day had involved nothing more than a stroll down the creek and a sweet-roll split three ways. Warm tears filled Cedric's eyes, and he reluctantly set Grace down so he could wipe them.

Only later did it occur to him that he could have played along and let her believe that he was a stranger. But in that moment, reunited with the first friend he'd ever made in his free life, the thought hadn't remotely crossed his mind.

"It's really you," Grace whispered, her own eyes red-rimmed and glossy. She cupped his cheek. "I never thought in a thousand years…"

She was younger and more girlish than he remembered. Her face and figure had certainly thinned, but that alone would not have drawn his notice so strongly. Was this really the same person whom he'd once considered an authority on the major affairs of the world?

Cedric's grin faded as the implications of Grace's presence here set in.

"Methodosia… is it…?"

She nodded. "Aye, what remained of us could stay no longer."

"What of your father? Your farm?"

Wordlessly, she buried her face in his chest. Cedric held her tight, struck again by how small she was. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

She resurfaced and sniffed hard, then met eyes with Adrian, who was watching them uncertainly. "Apologies. My name is Grace. Cedric and I were friends back in Methodosia." She held out her hand.

He shook it warmly. "Adrian. Well met, Grace. So you've had to put up with this one, too?"

She laughed and shot Cedric a fond look. "He was quite the handful, but nothing I couldn't manage."

"He's only worsened since then. Imagine my suffering!"

Cedric rolled his eyes as Grace took his hand and pulled him along. "Come, let's talk elsewhere."

They found a more secluded area, far from the chaos of the tournament preliminaries, where some trees still stood. The three of them settled beneath the shade of a young oak and basked in the cool, fragrant air of the Summerlands.

"How long have you been here?" Cedric asked Grace.

"A week. I'm with Finn and his father. We set up camp a good distance from the crowds, though it's a farther walk to the river.

"What of your Enforcer?"

"We were part of the main caravan leaving Methodosia, with Lord Avidus and his son at the head. Lord Avidus has since been granted entry into the capital, but Henry didn't join him. Finn witnessed their argument from a distance."

"Henry…" Cedric scowled. "Did he make trouble for you on the journey?"

Grace shook her head. "No, quite the opposite. He's been… different. Ever since Alvir--" Her breath caught, and her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh Goddess, do you know--?"

"I do," he said grimly. "Jana, too."

Grace's voice through her fingers was hushed and muffled. "How?"

"The Ice Blade. Searching for me." He couldn't meet her eyes. "Because I struck Henry, and he brought that Blade to our doorstep."

"Henry told me. You can't blame yourself!"

"No, not entirely." He gave her a weary half-smile. "I suppose, by now, you know who I am."

Grace began to twist at a lock of her hair; it was her turn to not meet his eyes. "When word of the royal bounty spread, it wasn't particularly difficult for us--me and Finn--to put the pieces together. Having known you personally, we held additional pieces that no one else did: your naivety, your nescience, your uniquely dark eyes…" She looked up. "Clever, to change their color. I would've written you off as a stranger had you pretended so."

"Adrian deserves the praise for that." Cedric grinned at him. "He's a terramancer, like Alvir was."

Grace's eyes widened. "He was--they're heretics?" She shifted, as if some primal part of her intended to flee.

"If anything, we're more devoted to the Goddess than most," Adrian said. "And we draw Her power from the earth, same as the Divine Heirs themselves."

"Most herbalists and healers are terramancers," Cedric added. "Whether they know it or not."

She contemplated for a moment as her existing worldview wobbled on its foundations. "Well, I'm already on speaking terms with a Blessed One," she conceded, though the apprehension didn't entirely leave her face. "Cedric, why have you come to the Summerlands? Were you driven here, too?"

Cedric shook his head. "No. I need to gain proper entry into Crystallinus, and without arousing suspicion."

"Why?"

"I…" he hesitated, then resolved to trust her completely. "To infiltrate the Citadel and destroy every diamond in the Vault. But there's no hope of getting that far without a guise, especially not against the Heirs."

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Grace's mouth hung slightly agape. She began to laugh, then quickly sobered at Cedric's grim expression. "You're serious," she said blankly. "By Eris, you truly intend to… "

"I must," he said. "The Heirs have ravaged this world for centuries, and Ayo intends to deal the final blow on the Day of Ascension."

Grace shot to her feet, making both Cedric and Adrian jump. "This--this is all a little beyond me," she said with a hysterical snort.

Cedric stood as well. "This is a lot to absorb, I know." He put his hands on her shoulders and attempted a reassuring expression.

She stared at him as if he truly were a stranger. "You've changed. So much," she finally said.

Cedric dropped his hands, unsure whether she'd complimented or disparaged him. Then, a new thought sparked in her eyes.

"A few days ago, this female Apostle named Lady Salus arrived from the city," Grace said, straightening up. "Clad in these beautiful garments and furs. Finn and I happened to be part of the crowd she was addressing."

"What did she speak about?" Adrian said, rising as well.

Grace bit her lip. "Something about the spirit of generosity in honor of Ascension Day. The Apostles would allow commoner children to entertain them in their festivities. In exchange, these children would be clothed, fed, and sheltered, given a life-long place in the capital. This Apostle would consider any child presented to her, and she encouraged us to spread the word."

Entertain. Cedric's stomach dropped. "In referring to 'children,' you mean…?"

"Between five to fourteen years, if I recall correctly. I know you're a bit older than that, but you could give it a go. This may be the way into Crystallinus you're searching for."

Grace didn't understand. How could she? But Cedric knew, intimately, what dark appetites some men and women harbored in this world. And in a glorious paradise of plentiful food, drink, and comfort, these appetites would only grow hungrier, bolder, crueler.

A cold sweat broke out across Cedric's skin, and his breathing came quick and shallow. His own body became distant to him, as if he were being forcefully pulled away from it. He drifted aimlessly, trapped in wordless, helpless panic.

Adrian's urgent hand on his arm brought him harshly back to himself. He swallowed and wiped his forehead with the other arm.

Grace reached out, then hesitated. "Did I say something? I didn't mean…"

"It wasn't you," Cedric said, unwilling to explain further. He'd already bared his soul once within the past few days, and the mere thought of doing so again exhausted him to the bone.

Adrian didn't let go, but rather tightened his grip. He'd also surmised what this Lady Salus truly intended for those commoner children, and for Cedric if she selected him. Fear and disgust warred across his face. Cedric couldn't bear to look at him any longer, and turned away.

"You're right, Grace," he said. "This may well be my answer. Thank you."

*

"If you were hoping for a solution to drop into your lap, you could have hardly asked for better," Candra said later that day. She was seated with her back propped against the wagon's front wheel. Nightwind had been untethered, to his obvious delight, and was happily grazing a short distance away.

Cedric and Adrian sat across from her, sharing a dried strip of venison. They said nothing. Cedric, for his part, couldn't find it in himself to conjure up even a scrap of enthusiasm.

"Why do you sulk?" she demanded. "This is a perfect guise under which to enter the capital, provided Lady Salus selects you. I passed by her tent myself. It's enormous, white, draped in blue satin. Impossible to miss."

"Forgive him for not leaping for joy at the prospect," Adrian snapped. "If you had to submit to this…"

"Ah yes, if I were twenty years younger, unscarred, with no burn mark on my palm that'd immediately give me away." She leaned forward and waited until Cedric looked at her. "The world is at stake. Do your comfort or pride take precedence over all that?"

In the wider view of things, Cedric's reluctance did seem rather small and selfish. He finished the last bite of his venison and rose to his feet, then looked out at the Apostles' extravagant shelters along the riverbank. He soon spotted the tent that both Grace and Candra had described. Even from this distance, the sight of it set his heart pounding.

But there was no use in delaying what needed to be done. The sun was nearing the horizon, and Lady Salus wouldn't receive visitors after dark.

"I'll come with you," Adrian said, rising as well.

"You don't need to--"

"I'm coming with you," he repeated.

Cedric's chest tightened, and he nodded gratefully.

"Candra doesn't know what you've been through," Adrian said a minute later as they approached the lavish encampments.

"I know," Cedric said quietly. "But she'd still be right. My comfort, my pride… they're a small price to pay."

"Not small for you." Adrian pulled Cedric's hand to make him turn and face him. "You don't have to do this. I hope you know that."

Cedric stared. "Of course I do. You said as much on the night of Destrius' party. And I recognized the truth of it."

Surprisingly, Adrian's worry grew more pronounced, not less. "Don't tell me that I'm the reason you... " He threw up his hands. "I'm a bar boy. I don't know anything about… anything!"

"And I've the life experience of a young child," Cedric said. "Out of the two of us, I'd still rather listen to you."

His worry then approached genuine alarm, which began to test Cedric's patience. Such as it was, any proper thought given to what he was willingly walking into would likely paralyze him on the spot; he certainly didn't need Adrian chipping away at his resolve even further.

A small crowd was gathered outside Lady Salus' tent, mostly clusters of children accompanied by parents or older siblings. They gave a wide berth to the stiff-faced guard posted at the entrance as they waited for its occupant to emerge.

Cedric moved to join them.

"Wait," Adrian said, stopping him again.

"What now?" he snapped, more sharply than he intended.

Adrian's expression had become impassive, unreadable. "Your eyes. They're darkening."

"Oh…" Cedric found the vial in his pocket and tilted a few drops into his eyes. "I'll have to do better at remembering." He wiped away the excess running down his cheeks, and attempted a smile. "We could be twisting into knots for nothing. I may not even be selected, and then how ridiculous would this conversation have been?"

Adrian nodded, though with little conviction.

The tent flap then lifted to reveal a striking woman. Lady Salus was older than Cedric expected, around fifty, voluptuous, clad in a floor-length gown of white and blue silk with a fluffy gray stole draped over her ample shoulders. Her lips were painted a deep red, the color of fresh blood.

She roamed amongst the prospectives, occasionally pausing to inspect their teeth or eyes. Rarely did she spend longer than a minute on a child before tutting and shaking her head. With each rejection, Cedric felt a surge of relief: one less innocent for the nobles to defile.

Eventually, Lady Salus reached Cedric. She was shorter by an inch, and raised a graying eyebrow at him. "How old are you, sweetling?" Her voice was husky, calming.

"Fifteen, my lady." He and Adrian had agreed that this was the youngest he could credibly claim.

She tutted. "If you're fifteen, I'm a fresh young maiden."

"I've nowhere else to go, Lady Salus," he pleaded. "If I could serve the noble Apostles of Crystallinus, my existence will at least amount to something."

"I deal in what I see, not what I hear. And you are not what my loyal patrons desire."

Cedric set his jaw. "Then, respectfully, you must be blind."

Lady Salus' mouth fell slightly open, and the stoic guard beside her even blinked in surprise. But then, to Cedric's relief, fond amusement suffused her features. He'd taken a steep risk, as well as relied on an aspect of himself he'd never paid much mind to in the past. At least she didn't ridicule him for his self-presumption.

"You do intrigue me," she conceded, then turned back to her tent. She beckoned with a leisurely flick of her hand. "Come, sweetling, let us talk some more."

Cedric glanced behind him, and Adrian's stony expression was the last thing he saw before he followed Lady Salus inside.