“So Elohm’s religion still survives in some forms in the pagan lands?” she asked. “And they have mistakenly worshiped His devas as gods?”
“That’s one interpretation,” said Dualayn. “You remember the name I told you about. The individual from Koilon.”
Koilon had been a myth, one of the Anteshattering cities, until ruins were found in the Upfing Forest. Dualayn was certain they’d found the remains of it along with the Recorder. They had lucked out to dig into the library and found the Recorder immediately. Just as they’d started studying the relic, Ust and his bandits had “invited” them to meet with Grey Koilon, leader of the Brotherhood.
“It was a name similar to Otsar,” she said, recalling the specific conversation Dualayn brought up.
“Ozsor,” Dualayn supplied.
“Are you saying that these gods and tones were real people?”
“Mythology comes from somewhere.”
“The Archon-Supreme is not a myth!” It was tantamount to calling Elohm a myth. She knew in her heart that a loving God had created the world. Her. Ōbhin. Everyone.
Dualayn smiled. “There’s that fire. I think you are recovered.”
She blushed. She didn’t like what he was implying at all. She shifted. The White Lady couldn’t have been one of these individuals from the distant past who inspired the name of all these pagan gods. The Shattering happened three thousand years ago. It was lost to recorded memory, only maintained in legends.
Mankind had fallen after it happened. Every history book Avena had perused at Dualayn’s suggestion had given different dates. They couldn’t even agree when Lothil Boat-Breaker led Avena's ancestors across the sea to settle the Arngelsh Islands, nor when Lothil’s grandson, Boan Sword-Arm, had led the fight against the darklings infesting the forests and mountains before sealing them behind the Warding.
“Your recovery is remarkable,” Dualayn said, drawing her out of her thoughts. He stared at her with a look of awe. “I think this is it, Avena. I’ll soon be ready to heal her.”
“You’ll succeed,” she said, hoping Dualayn could restore his wife’s damaged mind.
Her own throbbed from weighty thoughts. Dizziness washed over her. Her mind felt remote, almost outside of her. She ran a hand over her forehead and it passed.
He helped her slip off the table. Her legs felt weak, a tremble racing through her muscles. She stared at her body. Her cheeks looked shrunken, cheekbones more pronounced. She ran a hand through the linen shift she wore and felt her ribs. She’d lost weight, but not enough that a few days of extra meals wouldn’t recover, or so she hoped.
She had to resume her work with Ōbhin.
Did he get the information from Creg? Excitement galvanized her at that thought. She took the housecoat proffered by Dualayn and wrapped the light-blue wool around her body. She cinched it up tight before taking his arm for support.
“I am sure Ōbhin is eager to see you,” Dualayn said. “He has taken to sitting outside my lab. Gave me a fright two days ago when I went to fetch my dinner. I didn’t notice him until he let out a snore so loud I thought the house would shake.”
She giggled as he opened the door to the entry hall.
Her eyes fell on Ōbhin. The scar on the handsome easterner’s right cheek enhanced the deadly swordsman grace he never lost no matter what he did. He always moved with deliberation, even now as he stood to greet her. His dusky-brown face lit up at the sight of her. Life stirred in his dark eyes. Shining hope.
Awe.
She blushed beneath his intense scrutiny. He stared at her like she was impossible. A dream come to life. The beat of her heart quickened. A smile spread on her lips as, so it seemed to her, she witnessed him for the first time.
Joy burst inside of her.
*
Awe filled Ōbhin as he stared at Avena.
She looked frailer than he’d ever seen her. Her brown hair fell loose and short about her face, framing her round, pale features in a new way. A smile crossed her lips while her emotions blushed her exposed cheeks.
She stepped away from Dualayn. Her liquid eyes shone with her excitement. Ōbhin’s heart felt light. It almost lifted him from the ground. Deffona’s words whispered in his mind. Seeing Avena confirmed what the daughter had suggested.
For a moment, he thought she would fall. His hands reached for her and—
Black-gloved hands.
They froze before grabbing her. Shame burned through Ōbhin. What could hands clad in sable do but destroy what they touched? He could never do that to her. He had almost killed her with his recklessness. Going after Creg had not mattered one whit. Not when it had almost gotten her killed.
“Ōbhin?” she said, her voice tight. Her hands took his, her pale fingers squeezing about the stained leather.
“I am deeply sorry for getting you hurt,” he said. “Aliiva’s Tone resonates through me. I am glad you survived. I will not endanger you thus again.”
“Will not endanger . . .” Stubborn anger tightened her expression. “Don’t blame yourself for what happened. It wasn’t your blade that stabbed me. It was Creg’s. You listen to me, Ōbhin. I won’t let you do that. I chose to be there. I can remember that much. I put myself in danger. You didn’t have any say, so you can’t have any guilt.”
Her words were sweet, but Ōbhin knew the truth. He had to search for answers alone. He had to uncover what Grey and the Brotherhood wanted with Dualayn. Had to learn how to unmask the thing masquerading as Smiles without allowing it to
