Divined (4 page)

Clio wrapped the draught decanter carefully in her cloak, delicately storing it in the leather pouch she would carry at her side. She hesitated as she stood over her store of weapons, relics of another time, untouched for so long the blades were gray with dust. Clio reached out, her hand hovering just over the dagger’s hilt. She couldn’t remember the last time she gripped a blade, and part of her yearned for the cool obsidian under her fingertips.

“Your fire’s nearly out.” Riece’s voice came from behind her.

Clio snatched her hand back to her chest and whipped around. “Why are you here, Riece?”

He strode farther into the room, picked up what was left of their firewood store and carefully fed the tinder to the dull spark until flames caught. “You didn’t think you were going to get away without saying goodbye, did you?”

“No,” Clio sighed, then smiled. “So you’re not here to try to convince me not to go?”

He grinned. “Don’t go.”

“There it is,” Clio said with a laugh, brushing past him to grab her spare robe.

“Remember when I walked away from Sheehan during the war with the Untouched?” Riece asked, turning around and cornering her as she folded the robe into her bag.

“Of course.”

“Do you remember how upset you were with me?” He took a step toward her.

She pushed past him. “That was different.”

“Was it? Because I remember a very stern lecture from you on the subject of how I shouldn’t have run away from the people who needed me just because I was hurting.”

She stilled, dropping her gaze to the fire. “Sheehan is stronger than ever before with the Untouched. My city doesn’t need me anymore.”

“And what about me, Clio?”

“What about you?” she asked, her voice coming out in a whisper.

He stepped toward her and raised a hand to her chin, tilting her head up so she was forced to look at him. “
I
need you. Does that count for nothing?”

She was lost to his eyes. She knew she needed to say something, but those eyes made her thoughts unfocused, hazy, worse than if she’d taken the draught.

“You don’t need me,” she managed to say.

“How can you say that?” His voice trembled.

She turned her face to the side, allowing her thoughts to come together once more. “You have an Empire to lead and a beautiful woman to wed. You don’t need me.”

He stepped back as if she’d struck him. “No. I will not play this game with you.”

“What game, Riece? You know I…care for you. I always will. But we’ve known from the beginning that this between us, it wasn’t going to last. The Emperor will kill me, and what’s worse, he’ll kill you if he finds out. I can’t be in your life.” She refused to look at him, needing to continue, to say everything she hadn’t wanted to admit. “You could control Zarae’s ambition if you married her. She would make a good bride. Wed her and rule the Empire together, bring peace to the Corner and to Sheehan and sire a dozen little princes and princesses together.”

His hand flashed out, so quick and strong Clio didn’t have the time to flinch away. He grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him.

“You don’t mean that.” His voice was dangerous, and Clio saw the muscles in his neck tug at the thick scar around his throat.

“I d-do.”

“No.” He brought her hand to his chest, laying her palm flat against his heart. “You don’t.”

The feeling of his skin beneath hers sent a shiver down Clio’s back. She tried to pull her hand back, but she was too weak, and he wouldn’t let her go.

“You still think that?” he asked, and Clio could feel his hot breath against her neck.

“I do.”

He leaned in closer to her, his lips trailing along her jaw, stopping before he reached her lips. “Still?”

She didn’t have the breath in her lungs to answer. Instead she nodded, closing her eyes. He wrapped his free arm around her, pressing his hand into the small of her back and forcing her up against him so she could feel his ragged breathing through her own chest.

“Still, Clio?” he asked as his lips came down on hers.

Unbidden, her hands curled into his chest, and her lips parted, welcoming him. His mouth was fierce, drawing out her answer until it was all she could do to push him away before she was lost entirely.

“All right. Fine. I don’t mean it,” she said, her lips burning.

A lazy, satisfied grin spread across his cheeks.

“But I should,” Clio added. “And I’m still going. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

His grin flattened, and she could finally draw breath. “I’m going to find out who told the Emperor, and I’m going to find a way to bring you back. And there’s nothing
you
can do to stop
me
.”

Clio shook her head, nearly grinning. “Fine.” She walked back to him, allowing herself another embrace before they would have to part.

“Just promise me one thing,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Hmm, depends.” She laid a quick kiss on the jagged end of his scar, feeling him shudder beneath her.

“Promise me you’ll at least try to stay out of trouble.”

She grinned in full. “Pay attention, Riece. That’s the whole point of all of this.”

“Just do it.”

She nodded and brought her lips up to his. There was no way of knowing when or even if she would ever be able to kiss him again, and she intended to make the most of the moments they had left together before the draught wore off and Vazuil returned and she had to leave the Empire and Riece behind, likely for good.

“I’m not going to kiss you, Clio,” Riece said, amusement lighting his eyes.

She leaned back to study him, frustrated, refusing to let her lips pull down into a pout. “There’s no saying how long we could be apart.” She pushed her hips into his. “You truly don’t want to kiss me goodbye?”

He stepped back and grinned. “I truly don’t. You think this goodbye is final. I don’t. This is
not
the last chance I’ll have to kiss you. I promise you that.”

“But—”

He traced his thumb along her lips. “Stay and I’ll kiss you as long as you like.”

“You are impossible.” She turned away. Her eyes were blurring in the way they always did before Vazuil forced a Vision on her. She swallowed hard, willing him to stay away just a few moments longer.

“Yes, between the two of us, I’m the one who’s impossible.” Riece laughed as he walked back to the entrance. “I’ll see you again, Clio. You can look forward to that kiss.”

She watched him as he walked outside to the road, knowing she
would
look forward to it, even if coming back to Morek to be with him was something she could never do.

CHAPTER SIX

Clio drank enough of the draught to allow herself a dreamless sleep. She woke with the sun and found Ixie and Ashira preparing a light meal over the fire.

“Did you get everything?” Clio asked, sitting up and feeling more tired than when she’d lain down on her mat to sleep.

“We did.” Ashira spooned out porridge into a bowl and handed it to Clio.

The thought of putting something into her stomach made Clio want to shudder and turn away, but if she was going to have the strength to make this trip on her own, she would have to eat something.

She tipped the bowl to her lips, not tasting the meal as she finished it quickly, and stood to roll her mat up and tie it to the strap of her bag.

“I’m going to wash before I leave. Feel free to do whatever you want with the furniture. The chest could fetch a decent price in Sheehan.”

Ashira glanced at Ixie nervously, but Clio couldn’t face the prospect of more goodbyes yet. She would wash, then she would face her Vessels.

By the time she came back inside to collect her bag, Ashira and Ixie had snuffed out the fire and cleared the room.

“Did you find a place to stay in the city?” Clio asked, looking at their suspiciously small packs.

“We’re coming with you,” Ashira said, standing and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“No, you aren’t.”

Ixie sighed, her eyes tired. “Give it a rest already, Clio.”

“We go where you go. We always have, and we always will. We’re your Vessels,” Ashira added with a small smile.

“I’m not the Oracle anymore. I don’t need Vessels.” Clio made for the entrance.

She heard the shuffle behind her but her arms wouldn’t move fast enough, and suddenly she was forced up against the wall, Ixie’s staff pressed into her chest.

“You’re in no state to make this trip on your own,” Ixie said, holding her staff firm.

“I can manage.” Clio dropped her bag as she worked to free herself.

“You can’t.” Ixie pressed harder, and the breath was forced from Clio’s lungs. “I’m not even trying yet.”

Clio glared at the girl and ceased her meager struggling. “It’s your choice. I won’t make it for you.”

Ixie lowered her staff, allowing Clio to regain her breath as Ashira came to Clio’s side, taking her elbow and helping her stand upright. “Where are we headed?” Ashira asked, excitement making her dark eyes bright.

“South until we leave the Empire. But we have one stop to make first.” Clio picked up her bag and walked out of the hut without looking back.

The fields to the north of the city hadn’t been replanted yet. They stood barren and burnt from the war with the Untouched. Each step they took kicked up ash and memories of battles fought in flames.

In the distance stood a row of black ruins, once homes for the Sheehan farmers who lived out in these fields. The clay had cracked in the heat, the straw burnt away, leaving a spattering of broken and crumbling structures that weren’t worth rebuilding. Not even the Untouched had been willing to move out here to live among the barren and the dead.

For one, though, one who had lived her whole life in isolation, the place had become a home.

Irime never showed much interest in speaking to anyone, but Clio came to visit her more often in the days following the end of the war. For a while Irime tolerated her niece’s presence. Then, one day Clio came and found Irime had chosen to hide in the ashes rather than come out to speak to Clio. Clio stopped coming after that. She would send Ixie to check on the woman, to make sure Irime had enough to eat, but even if Ixie left food out, Irime would let it rot rather than touch it.

Truth was, Clio didn’t much like coming here. Seeing Irime only brought back the pain of her revelations. Watching her aunt shake and rave in the burnt-out and hollowed wreckage forced Clio to face what the Deities had done to her family years before Clio was even born. And hearing her aunt mumble about what she and the Oracle of Morek had done to Clio’s mother made Clio sick with rage, allowing Vazuil the chance to break through her thoughts.

“Irime?” Clio called softly as she passed by some of the more preserved huts.

No answer came. She gestured to Ixie and Ashira to stay back. Irime didn’t like to feel outnumbered.

“Irime?” Clio repeated, stepping inside one of the huts and then immediately stepping back outside when the smell hit her. Something was dead in there, and Clio didn’t wish to find out what. Irime must have been hunting. Clio couldn’t imagine the woman taking down an animal, but after all, Irime had managed to survive on her own for a decade.

Clio’s aunt had never been strong. Irime’s mother, the Oracle of Morek, had known this about her daughter and had taken great pains to protect Irime from the dangers of being a Vessel. Still, there had always been something savage in the frail daughter, even before she had been forced to live on her own after her mother was executed in Morek.

Clio had never been able to forgive her aunt for the part she played in the Deities’ schemes. Perhaps it would have been different if Irime had shown any indication of remorse, just the slightest hint of regret for how she helped the Oracle steal a newborn babe from Clio’s mother Ires’ breast and set it out to starve or be killed by the Untouched. The child had done nothing wrong, and all Ires had been guilty of was falling in love with a mortal—the future Emperor of Morek. In the end, the child had survived and grown up to become Mannix, the man who would kill all of Clio’s family because he hated the mother he thought had abandoned him.

Irime had been a part of all the lies the Oracle of Morek fed to Ires. They told Ires her son hadn’t survived his early birth, and to make sure she never went back to the man she loved, the man she had chosen over the Deities, they told her about a Vision they had made up—a Vision that promised the Emperor would die for their love. Ires left him, thinking she was saving him. All the pain Ires went through, everything she did that hurt Mannix and the Emperor, was all simply because a Deity had been offended she chose to lie with a mortal over him. In the end, Ires did lie with that same Deity, never knowing how he had taken everything from her.

Clio walked to the end of the row and stopped in front of the final hut. Dried blood marked the entrance. A warning. Clio shivered and stepped inside.

The house had once been large. Clio could tell there had been three rooms all connected to the central space but one wall had crumbled away, leaving it open to the black fields beyond. A row of jagged sticks and branches had been stuck in the mud on the east side, blocking off the remaining room. Something rustled from within.

“I know you’re in there. Is it all right if I come in? It will only be a moment,” Clio asked, leaning so as to try to see through the crude fence.

Irime sat in the mud, staring up at the back wall. Her hair was thin and gray, and her shoulders hunched in on themselves. She wasn’t murmuring anything under her breath, which told Clio Irime knew she was there.

“I’m going away, Irime,” Clio said. She laid her hand on one of the longer branches only to find the backside wet and sticky. Her hand came away dark brown with stale blood.

“Going away? To war?” Irime asked, twisting around to see Clio.

“No…not to war.”

“War is coming, though. You’ll fight in it. The Oracle always has to fight.” Irime’s eyes slid off Clio and fixed on the broken wall behind her. “Your hair is a bad color, insulting, evil. They don’t like it. Father doesn’t like it.” She stood up and came over to the fence.