Meek

Eli scratched his head. "I'm, uh, honored, but I think we'll just head our own way." A suspicion suddenly struck him. "Did you talk to Lara about this?"

"I did."

He frowned. "What did she say?"

"She acted like the dutiful, subservient wife," Lady Brazinka told him, with a gleam of humor in her eyes, "and she said she'd do whatever you decided."

"Huh."

"She's a good actor, too."

"You didn't buy it?"

"'Dutiful' I believed, but 'subservient' was a bridge too far. Still, she wants you to choose."

"Where is she?"

"Last I saw, heading to the stables with a curry comb. She seems quite fond of your donkey."

"Fonder than she is of me, apparently."

"Oh, I'm not sure I'd say that. She brushed your hair, too."

The dry humor in her voice surprised him. He didn't know why. Well, probably because at first he'd imagined her as a heartless noblewoman, callously leaving broken bodies in her wake. And then, when he'd finally seen her, she'd been huddled miserably under a blanket, feeding her life into a mage to save a bunch of strangers' children. And then just now, she'd wrapped him in the stillness of her soul, touching him with the calmness of her core.

Impressive, but none of that suggested a sense of humor.

Overall, she struck him as cool, collected, self-possessed, with a hint of sharpness. And fine, humor. When he was younger, he might've wondered which of those was the real her, but now he knew that the boring answer was undoubtedly the correct one: all of them.

And knowing that made him want to see more of her. The various layers of Brazinka tempted him into joining her. But it also warned him off. She was sailing in deep waters, and he needed to focus on his own journey.

He'd come to Ehrat uncertain about what he wanted. To punish the lady or stop the Killweeds. Well, after meeting the Bloodwitch, there was nothing in his heart but certainty. He'd stop the Killweeds. Though he hadn't even managed to truly stop the witch; he'd just made a retreat possible.

If she was the weakest of them--and he had no reason to doubt that she'd told the truth about that--he needed to get stronger. Much stronger. He already had, of course. He felt five sparks around him even now, and each one could hit as hard as a mailed fist.

But it wasn't enough. Not nearly. So no, they couldn't join some Leotide City government office, no matter what Brazinka's stillness told her.

"Well, then," he said, after a pause. "I'm sorry, but we'll part here."

"I never finished telling you about Elsavet's paths. She is weak with Arrow, and not much of a healer. She's powerful with Shields, but she truly shines as a guide of the Path. She was an instructor at the Academy. You've heard of the Academy of the Seventh Season?"

"That's where you train mages."

"It's one of the places, Mir Meek. Arguably the best. It's where we met. She was my instructor and I was her least-capable student."

"Huh," he said.

She smiled, remembering. "We did not get off to a happy start. She is a gifted guide and I refused guidance."

"Is that right?" he said, because he didn't know what any of this had to do with him.

"If you want to learn, she will train you. If you want to master your skills, your powers, she will train you. Outside of the Academy, and perhaps even inside it, you'll find no better teacher."

"Oh," he said.

"This power you have ... she's never seen anything like it. Which likely means that nobody has."

"Well, not in--"

"Not in the valley, and not in the Glade either," Brazinka said, her low voice unwavering. "You're not Flaring, yet your ... manifestations are undifferentiated magic. Pure magic, wild magic. By all rights, they should've faded within days. Instead, they seem to have stabilized. And strengthened."

"You think I'm a lost mage."

"No, I don't think you've ever taken a single step onto a Path. So you can't have wandered off one, Mir Meek. I think you're something else entirely."

He didn't know what to say. He felt exposed, naked, and a little threatened.

"Whatever you decide, we'll keep your secrets," she told him, maybe reading his reaction in his face.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. We owe you that, for these families' sake. I hope you'll keep my secrets, too."

"I don't know any of yours."

"I've only told five people of my assurances."

"Oh, huh. And I'm one of them?"

She smiled again. "There is no progress without risk. I hope to use you, Mir Meek. I don't deny it. But I'm happy to be used by you, too. Elsavet will guide you. She'll train you. She will give you an education worthy of the Academy. And you won't find a better instructor than her. Well, odds are you won't find any instructor. Even if you did, you'd have to reveal yourself to them. You're already revealed to us, so--"

"Okay," he said. "You're right."

"Oh!" She looked surprised. "You'll join us?"

"Yeah. Yes. For a time. No guarantees how long."

"Understood," she said.

"But, uh ... what is it that you want? What are you after?"

"Oh, my goal is quite modest," Lady Brazinka said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "It's just the reshaping of the valley into a united political force capable of standing against the Celestials."

Eli spent that day catching up with his lost meals while Swan led the bulk of her mercenary company south to Leotide City.

The following dawn, Arcuro pressed a cask of cured olives on him and gave a basket of sweet cornflour pastries to Lara. Winina shook Eli's hand five times and tearfully hugged Lara, then Gertrud grumbled, "If you're going to leave, leave already."

When they fetched Fern from the stables, the street was lined with people waving goodbye. Eli pretended that the sight didn't move him, but Lara beamed at them. Then the two of them headed through the palisade gate with Lady Brazinka, Mage Elsavet, Fishhook, Dorgo, Twoeyes, and a handful of wounded mercenaries. Elsavet had exhausted herself so completely maintaining that shield that she'd collapsed for almost as long as Eli. And when she'd roused, she'd only been able to relieve pain instead of healing wounds.

Lara spent most of the first day in the carriage with the lady and her companion, refusing to climb into the saddle so soon after her last experience on horseback. She only emerged for meals, and to tend to Fern.

Eli rode alongside, on the most placid of the company's horses. Dorgo chatted at him, on and off, and he responded politely but spent most of his time alone with his thoughts.

Thinking about getting stronger. About training his abilities.

Thinking about uniting the valley. He'd been half-right about Brazinka. She did want to transfer to the capital, just like every provincial official. That was why she'd gone after the Rockbridge coin: if she brought in revenue, she'd get promoted.

But she didn't care about the promotion itself. She wanted to bind the provinces to the capital with chains of silver and gold. She wanted to show the capital--the monarch--the benefits of a strong central government. She wanted to tempt the throne with treasure. To appeal to the capital's greed.

Because with the valley divided, they couldn't stand against the Celestials. If they didn't present a unified front, they were doomed.

She claimed that the concomitances were getting more violent, and more common. With worse still yet to come: stronger angelbrood, larger and more monstrous. Creatures so fearsome that a handful of them could decimate an army.

Eventually.

She was playing a long game. She didn't know if she had enough time, but she didn't see--and her Path didn't show her--any other way.

Her Path rarely showed her everything, though. Like she'd been certain that if they beheaded the Bloodwitch, they'd defeat the risen. Which they had. Yet she hadn't known that the Bloodwitch would shed her skin and become a grotesque blood-slug.

So Eli didn't know how far to trust her 'assurances.' Still, he trusted them enough to join her in Leotide City. Plus, of course, he was eager to train with an Academy-level instructor.

That evening, they reached the humpback bridge spanning the river. The soldiers lounging outside the building watched them approach, then one sauntered closer to meet them. Twoeyes spurred her horse forward and spoke while the rest of the little caravan rumbled to a halt. She used Lady Brazinka's name--and handed over some coin--and the soldiers offered them the use of one of the buildings for the night.

Fishhook declared the big room an infirmary, and Elsavet finished the healing she'd started while Brazinka spoke to the commanding officer about food.

Eli and Lara settled his horse and Fern, then walked among the stands of trees on the riverside.

"Do you trust her?" he asked, when they were alone.

She ran her fingers along the rough bark of a tree. "Yes," she said in dryn. "At least to chinzenu ranni haleli."

"What's that mean?" he asked in dryn.

"Pursue her own goals. I trust that she thinks she needs us. Needs you. And I'm sorry, but I--" She sighed sadly. "I like her."

He snorted in amusement. "That's bad?"

"It's confusing."

"I suppose," he said. He was reassured, though; Lara was an accomplished enough liar to make good judgements about trustworthiness.

"There's nothing cruel about her," Lara said. "Despite what happened to you."

"Yeah."

"And we know one thing. She'll sacrifice herself for what she believes is right."

"True," he said, "but she'll sacrifice everyone else for it, too."

"For saving children, El ... Meek. Is that such a sin?"

He didn't answer, and they kept strolling along the riverside. A cool night breeze shook the branches above the river. A horse nickered behind them, then one of the mercenaries shouted over a game of dice.

"So what's our plan for Leotide City?" Lara asked.

"First we train," Eli told her. "Then we find the next Killweed."