CHAPTER 4

For a moment, I am lost in the crowd that has begun to take the first timid steps towards the guild’s representants. Soon, they’ll be offering food, asking for demonstrations of might and magic.

“Is Katha not with you?”

I turn and find Dala standing beside me. The light from the magic banner above throws strange shadows over my mother’s face and brings out the worry she's trying to hide. I frown. Dala is usually a lake of placid calm, but tonight a host of emotions boils just under the surface of her expression. Hoping that the Godtouched will be merciful, afraid they might not be? We're all on edge today.

“She went off somewhere,” I say, trying to find Katha in the crows. But the villagers have become a compact wall in every direction, blocking my efforts.

“Will you walk with me, then?” my mother asks. “Your father will be busy for a while still. We have time before they make any announcements. And I could use a break from all of this.”

I hesitate.

“Should we find Katha? I don’t want her to…”

“She’ll be fine,” Dala says. “And I believe a mother is entitled to time alone with her only son,” she adds pointedly.

I roll my eyes at this, but go with her, if just to be away from the mob of celebrants. Truth be told, they're starting to get to me.

Dala leads us down the path along the river. It’s her usual stroll, serving both to clear her mind and build up her stores of herbs. Many things grow alongside the margins of the Steel, including plants useful for healing and soothing pain. This was where I learned to identify them.

“What’s that?” she asks, pointing.

“Mulberry. Edible. Not to be confused with its purple-ish cousin, which will drain a grown man of life in few minutes.”

“And the flower there, in the water?”

“Maskrin,” I say. “Can be squeezed to release a pulp that eases pain and induces sleep. Three flowers will put an adult man to bed.”

“You’ve been studying,” she says, pleased. "You're getting good at this."

"Not as good as you," I answer. "Plus, Katha's been helping me."

Dala nods but doesn’t say anything. For a while, we walk in silence. The well-illuminated village square becomes hidden by the first buildings, and dusk becomes more pronounced by its absence. The Steel gurgles and splashes to our side, deeper now, gaining speed. I wonder what we’re doing here, but not out loud. Dala walks in front of me with stiff, careful steps.

“You’re an adult now,” my mother says suddenly. I focus on her back with a grimace. Her head is slightly bowed, her eyes focused on the path ahead. I can feel the lecture looming, though I’m not sure what I did to deserve it.

“You’re about to enter a world of responsibilities,” she continues. “Soon enough your childhood will feel unimportant, like a dream. All of this will fade.”

“Right,” I say quickly, trying to speed her through the speech to the whatever she’s really aiming to say.

“Life will change no matter what you do or where you go. It’s the one thing you can count on. I was very young when I first came to Reach, and my life was very different then. You'd be surprised at how easily new becomes normal.”

Dala stops to let me catch up before taking me by the arm. I bite my tongue in embarrassment, wishing she’d just go back to talking about plants, about the weather, anything else at all. It's a mercy that the path is empty, that everyone is at the feast. The last thing I need is for Bago to see me arm in arm with my mother.

“There were no Godtouched then,” Dala continues. “We bowed all the same, but the world belonged to people like us. Now, we do what we must to survive in theirs, and if they're ever displeased... Sometimes I can't even think about it, Malco. It's too frightening."

“Mother…” I begin, but she barrels on through, going through whatever conversation she has planned for us.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“And it all rests on your father's shoulders. He must do things he’s not proud of. Valkas smiles and his lackeys make their pretty lights," she gestures to the red banner in the sky behind us, now flickering, fading, on the point of winking out. "But they never let us forget what they are, do they? They could ravage Reach in a blink if they were of a mood. If your father didn’t appease them. Do you realize that? How much we rely on him?”

I say nothing. My chest feels constricted and my coat too tight as all the topics I prefer to avoid are dredged up from the murk they lie in and brought into the light. I just want her to finish, so silence becomes my refuge.

“And sometimes,” Dala says, and suddenly her voice trembles. “Sometimes he’s forced to do the unthinkable. When there’s no other way.”

“Please,” I plead. "Is this about me being late? Because I know and I did wrong and I promise I’ll behave. Can we please—"

“I’m talking about responsibility, Malco,” she cuts, her voice harsh. “You’re not a child anymore. I can’t keep protecting you.”

She stops, jerking on my arm, and turns to face me. The red banner in the sky has vanished and I can barely see her face, but still I spy the trail of a rogue tear sliding down her cheek. It takes me a moment still to make sense of what I’m seeing.

“Is… Is everything all right?” I ask.

She doesn’t respond. Her eyes are closed, her fists squeezed tight against my clothes, clinging to me.

“Mother?”

She opens her eyes, marred with tears.

“I’m sorry, Malco. We had to do something, and we agreed, we all agreed…”

I don’t know what’s happening, but something in me does. My guts twist inside me, driving the breath from my lungs, speeding up my heart. The Godtouched. Reach’s offer. The way Medrein lead Valkas inside, where they wouldn’t be heard.

“Did… Did Medrein offer someone for the Challenge?” I ask.

She doesn't answer. I don't need her to. It's suddenly clear what's happening, what she means, what she's been trying to tell me this whole time. It's terrible and wondrous.

“Mother,” I insist. “Am… Am I the offer? Am I the offer? Is that what you’re saying?”

Dala’s shadow has bent over itself. Little whimpers break the sound of the flowing river. My world has just crumbled. The future I imagined stretching endless in the valleys among these hills now drags me inexorably to a bloody and undefined pit far from here. Before terror can take full hold of me, from those depths shines the glimmer of a possibility. The Challenge. Fortune to rival a king’s. Levels. A place among the Godtouched, with the power to change the world. Faces are flashing in front of my eyes. Medrein’s, coolly distant. Dala, sobbing in front of me. Reva, jealous of being passed over for me, having to stay back as heir. Katha… Too painful to think about.

“Mother. Mom,” I reach out to her. “It’s all right. I’m… I can do it. You're right. I won't be a child anymore. I’ll make you all proud. You’ll see.”

That only makes her sob louder. Her clinging fists turn to a hard, gripping hug which I return. I make comforting noises, feeling myself grow, leaving childish things behind, but I’m not there by the river with her. I am many miles away, beating the Challenge, emerging the victor a god among men.

Dala shakes her head against my chest. She’s saying something I can’t understand, muffled against my clothing. She gasps no. No, over and over again, no. I ask her what she means, and she pulls away from me, covering her face with her hands, sobbing loudly. With gentleness, I pull her hands away, and ask again. My mother looks at me through water-filled eyes.

“No,” she says. “You’re not going to the Challenge. Anything but that. I—We were afraid you’d do something. Put yourself at risk if you knew.”

I don’t understand, and I say so. Dala looks to the sky before speaking. It’s completely dark now beyond the stars and the pale glimmer of the moon peeking from behind the hills. Her face becomes still, as if whatever pain was racking her has suddenly abated.

“You’re not Reach’s offer for the Challenge,” mother says.

Her body is no longer straining, no longer pulling. She's a lake of placid calm again.

“You’ll never be that. I wouldn’t permit it.” She looks me in the eyes before finishing. “It’s Katha, Malco. We sent her.”

*

My feet dig into the mud, making me slip. I fall and ignore the pain. I run too fast to measure my steps. Reach is only minutes away, but right now it could be sitting on the moon and feel just as distant.

I left Dala on the path, screaming after me. I didn’t look back. My eyes twitch between the path and the sky above Reach, searching as I run.

I’m not too late. I can’t be.

There is a pit in the center of my chest. I watch the world from its darkness. My body doesn’t feel like my own. I fall again, bang my knee against something hard, but get up and continue running. I limp, but not out of pain. I feel no pain. I am beyond it.

A flash of green light illuminates the sky just as I see the first houses. I yell and barely notice the sound of my own voice. I run into the village. Two more flashes in quick succession. People come into view, turning to look at me. I push them out of my way. The mass of drinking, laughing bodies thickens, the flashes come again: one, two. Five now in total. Not all. Not yet. I punch and claw my way ahead, calling Katha’s name, belting it out in desperation.

I break out of the throng into the center of the square. Two figures stare at me. One is Valkas, smiling, puzzled at my arrival, ultimately bored. His hand rests on Katha’s shoulder. Her hair is loose, shining. Her eyes are fixed on mine. I run to her, but suddenly an arm thick as a tree trunk wraps around my chest and lifts me up. I twist, I yell, but I can’t shake myself free. I look at Katha, pleading for her to run, to do something. She opens her mouth, frames the shape of a word…

And then I’m blinded by a flash of green light. It bursts in the center of the square, washing everything away. I spring free when the person holding me shields their eyes, and run forward, raking my hands through the light. But I grab only air. Katha is gone.