“One thing at a time,” Aulow says sweetly before continuing. “There was a time when the Prophets were all-knowing. They would have visions of droughts impacting entire kingdoms. They would see the births of children three towns over.
“But that was long ago. Over time, these visions became fewer, more specialized.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
This time, it’s Rhet who answers. “They only see each other now.”
At the risk of sounding repetitive, I ask again, “What do you mean?”
Aulow begins pacing the room, in slow and meticulous circles, her gaze drifting to the floor. “The Prophets only see the future where each other are involved, and only when a life hangs in the balance. They can only see each other if there is a possibility that the Prophet can be saved. We believe they send each other a kind of signal when they’re in danger.
“Your sister called to our Prophets the day you fled the palace.”
“She did?” I ask before looking back down at my sister. “You did? Did you know?”
Gem doesn’t answer. Instead she buries her head into my chest.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad or anything. I think it’s kind of incredible.”
That earns me the briefest glimpses of a smile before she slowly pulls her face back up for air.
“How long have you known you could do it?”
“I no know,” she whines, tilting her head and looking up at me through self-conscious eyelashes.
“Oh,” I say dumbly. “Th-that’s okay. I do lots of things that I don’t know I’m doing too. Like, just the other day when I was studying with the language tutor, I was so focused that I actually passed gas, completely forgetting the tutor was even in the…room.” As Gem erupts with laughter, I glance around the hut, realizing that I’d yet again forgotten that there were other people around me.
I clear my throat, hoping someone will change the subject. To my great relief, Aulow does.
“It’s unlikely that your sister has seen much of her talents yet. Most Prophets don’t have true visions until they’re a little older. Some children her age will have nightmares though, ones that they don’t realize are real, but even that is rare for someone so young.”
“Okay, great,” Sinisa says, forcing an unfriendly smile. “So, you kidnap Prophets and what? Use them to help you find more Prophets? Is that supposed to make us trust you?”
I swallow, straightening my back like I asked the question myself, even though deep down I am far too naive to have ever thought of it. I look to her with a kind of self-abashed gratefulness. It’s the first time I chance meeting her eyes since she admitted to still being contracted to kill my sister, and it’s the first time since then that I realize: I don’t believe she’s bad.
She’s interrogating these bandits like her only purpose is to protect Gem. And earlier, she saved me from those wolves. She could’ve easily killed me. She could’ve just as easily left me at the inn when her Crow returned with the bandits’ whereabouts, but instead, she woke me up and we left together.
Maybe it’s like Aulow said. Maybe at first, Sinisa made the wrong choice, or maybe she’d planned on doing something that would’ve been terrible, but now? Now she’s asking these people what they know about getting out of a Reaper contract.
“By the dove, no!” Aulow says in a fit of laughter. “You misunderstand.”
“We rescue them from Reapers,” Rhet barks, arms still crossed against his chest, the thick ropes of his hair resting over his chest. “We provide them safety.”
“No Reaper can cross the protective barrier. Not without a blessing from one of us, of course,” Aulow explains.
“Yeah, why is that?” I blurt, drawing my gaze from Sinisa. “How does that work anyway? Can Prophets create barriers like that too?”
Another chuckle from Aulow. “I’m afraid not. A Prophet’s gift is prophecy. But we”—she points from herself to Rhet—”are not Prophets.”
My heart sinks into my stomach.
“Then…what are you?” I ask cautiously, the hope that’s growing inside me too much to contain.
Aulow’s smile beams again. “I wondered when one of you would ask. It is my pleasure to inform you both that the task you set out to accomplish is complete. I will make no bones about it. We are not bandits. We are not Prophets. We are the Guardians.”
21
The First Soul
Sinisa
Everything seems to slow as the significance of what she’s saying hits me.
We found a Guardian. Two, in fact.
We completed our task, and now Gem can have the opportunity at a life that Acari so desperately wants for her.
And for the briefest moment, I am living in triumph.
We did it. We completed our task.
But that bubbly sensation of elation doesn’t last when I remember what I am supposed to do next, the decision I have to make.
Claim the life I was set to take, or accept my fate among the Wraiths.
For as long as I can remember, all I’ve wanted was to become a Shade, to serve Veltuur dutifully, and to help maintain the balance between life and death. I have a place in the underrealm, a purpose. But my goals there seemed a lot more preferable before I knew what the realm of the living had in store. Though regaining one of my memories has proven that there is evil in this realm just as horrific as the Wraiths, more than anything my time here has shown me that this place has far greater things to offer than just suffering.
The night I killed my attacker, I’d done so to protect my friends as much as myself. I felt the same kind of protectiveness toward Acari when we found ourselves surrounded by wolves. I saw it in him too when he realized that I had been lying about my contract for Gem’s life.
That kind of connection, that level of love, does not exist in the underrealm.
Completing my mission, returning to Veltuur, means giving up the
