‘He has a point,’ said Van.
‘There is no point,’ said Corthie. ‘Maybe, if he’d come even remotely close to finding them, but he hasn’t. And won’t.’
Naxor stood. ‘I’m going for a walk.’
‘But,’ said Sohul, ‘we called this little meeting to discuss…’
‘There’s clearly nothing to discuss,’ said the demigod as he strode for the steps leading to the deck. ‘Corthie’s given up.’
The others watched him leave, then Sohul also got to his feet.
‘I’m going to bed,’ he said, and walked away.
Van frowned, then poured himself a measure from the bottle.
‘You joining me in getting drunk tonight?’ said Corthie.
‘You have to sort yourself out,’ he said. ‘You’ve gone from the most optimistic and confident person I’ve met, to a…’
Corthie glared at him. ‘To a what?’
‘To a whiny defeatist. The old you would slap the new you around the face.’
‘I’m just being realistic.’
‘No, you’re not; you’re being pathetic. I’ve held my tongue in front of the others, but I’m getting sick of it. Your sister and Aila are out there, somewhere. The old Corthie would never stop searching for them.’
‘Then the old Corthie was an idiot. We lost; don’t you understand? It’s over. The two hidden worlds are probably under attack, and Implacatus has won. The Ascendants are invincible.’
Van shook his head. ‘How can you say that? I watched you fight two of them, and you nearly beat them on your own. Have you the slightest notion of what that means? No one’s got that close to defeating them in millennia, and what’s more – you have a second chance. If they knew you were alive, then they’d fear you.’
Hope flickered in Corthie’s heart, then he refilled his mug and took another sip. Hope was what had got him killed; a blind hope in his own destiny. It was better to hope for nothing; in that way he would never be let down again. He found the thought liberating. If he stopped hoping for things, then maybe his worries would disappear as well. For all he knew, his world could be in smoking ruins, his family dead. Aila and Kelsey might be dead too. What did that leave him? Nothing.
‘I thought I could change things,’ he said, ‘but I was wrong. Sometimes, I wish Belinda had left me dead.’
Van shook his head. ‘Do you think I’ve never been defeated? I’ve been involved in many wars, many battles; and we lost our fair share. The Banner of the Golden Fist taught us to treat each failure as an opportunity to learn from our mistakes. We’d analyse what went wrong, but rarely was any blame apportioned to individuals. They would criticise you for breaches of etiquette, or drunkenness, or an untidy appearance, but not for tactical errors. Corthie, you made a tactical error – you thought you could take on two Ascendants on your own. You were wrong. What does that teach you? That you’re useless? That everything is hopeless? The real lesson is that, next time, you need support.’
Corthie laughed. ‘You sound like Gadena.’
‘Good. I respect Gadena. It’s a pity you didn’t listen to him.’
‘I didn’t need to; I beat everyone he put up against me.’
‘That’s your problem right there; you’ve never experienced defeat. Kelsey used to talk about your mother, about how she was a ruthless, no-nonsense warrior; a war leader.’
‘Aye, that sounds about right.’
‘And how did she behave after a defeat? What would she say to you now?’
Corthie considered for a moment, despite knowing the answer. ‘She would tell me to stop acting like a baby, but that’s how she deals with everything. She thinks sheer will power can overcome any odds. I watched her get her arse kicked by Asher, who was one of the gods who invaded our world with Belinda and Agatha. She was the one who killed my father.’
‘Did she give up after that?’
‘No. She started training again as soon as possible, and the next time she met Asher, she killed her. I didn’t see it, but Kelsey told me what happened.’
‘I wish Kelsey were here right now.’
Corthie narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m sure you do.’
‘That’s not what I meant, though, yes; I do miss her. It’s just that I think Kelsey might be better than me at getting you out of this hole. I think you need another Holdfast to remind you who you are.’
‘And, who am I?’
Van shrugged. ‘The greatest mortal warrior who has ever lived. You said so yourself.’
‘That was the old Corthie.’
Van said nothing, and lit a cigarette.
‘Open a window,’ muttered Corthie, then he drained his mug, feeling the harsh spirits burn his throat. He went to refill his mug, then realised the bottle was empty. ‘Hey,’ he said; ‘where’s the other bottle?’
‘What other bottle?’ said Van. ‘That was it.’
‘You’re kidding me? I thought we had another bottle of… of whatever it is we’re drinking.’
‘It’s vodka, and no; we’re out.’
‘But I’m only getting started.’
‘Tough. Go to bed.’
‘No.’
‘Fine; stay up.’
‘Get more vodka.’
‘I’m not your servant, Corthie.’
‘I’ll get some myself, then.’ Corthie stood, and glanced around for his boots.
‘You can’t be serious,’ said Van, eyeing him.
‘Why not? A walk would do me good. We’ve been in Kin Dai for ages; it’s time I saw some of it. All you need to do is point me in the right direction, and I’ll find somewhere selling booze.’
‘Sit down; you’re drunk.’
‘Aye, but not drunk enough. Nowhere near drunk enough.’ He spied his boots and pulled them out from under the chair where they had been, then sat on the bench and began to put them on.
‘Corthie, this is a joke, right? You know you can’t go wandering about Kin Dai. What if you’re recognised?’
‘Come on. No one’s going to have the faintest idea who I am. Maybe if I’d gone out when we first got here, when what happened was still fresh in
