CHAPTER 82 – Unaccountably Sick, and Tired

A small mountain of gifts awaited Saphienne when she returned to the guest room, as did Laelansa, who perched barefoot and cross-legged on the bed with the enchanted tray of tea and chocolates levitating beside her.

Yet Saphienne only shut the door and walked to the windowsill, studying the soil of the plant pot in which Hyacinth rested.

“…Saphienne?”

She wished Hyacinth was well enough to speak…

“What’s happened?”

…But she wouldn’t even know what to say. Rather than try to put what she felt into words, Saphienne drifted to the foot of the bed and sat on the floor with her back against it, gazing out the window into the brilliant daytime sky and thinking about when she had walked from the woodlands and into the protectorate.

How free she had felt, with Hyacinth; free from all that suffocated her; free of herself.

Laelansa crawled over to peer down at her. “Please talk to me…”

Her eyelids were heavy.

“…I just want to help you.”

She let them fall.

For all the life within it, the bedroom remained a desert.

“Laelansa,” she murmured, “can you keep a secret?”

“Of course!”

“Not like a child keeps a secret.” She thought of her friends. “Can you keep a secret even if it hurts? Can you keep it even if you should come to hate the one who told you? Can you–”

“I will never hate you.”

Saphienne looked up; Laelansa’s grey-green eyes were unblinking. “…Even so. Can you keep it from the whole world? Forever? Even when tired or angry or unfathomably sad?”

“I can.” She was sure. “My goddess will keep it for me; I swear before Her.”

Again she envied the novice her faith. “…Sit with me?”

Tumbling forward off the bed without fanfare, Laelansa landed beside Saphienne.

She snorted. “I see where you get all your bruises.”

“‘Tis only flesh, and time healeth all wounds.” Her lilt and cadence matched the way Ruddles spoke archaic Elfish. “I don’t really notice them, anyway.”

Saphienne lowered her head. “I can’t tell you what happened — not exactly. All that matters is… I did something the ancient ways say I shouldn’t have, but I’d never really been told what the ancient ways were. I still knew the spirits wouldn’t like it when I did it.”

“Why?”

A very good question. “…Because I believed it was the right thing to do. And yet,” she said as the twinge in her chest objected, “that wasn’t all. I did it because I was thinking about my… my best friend. You know who she was, what she was.”

Laelansa only listened.

“Were I an adult,” Saphienne continued, “I would be an apostate. The matriarch who arrived declared me an apostate, but Hyacinth objected, and she said I was too young to really know what I had done — or at least too young to be held accountable. She said I had been forced into it, either by unknown means…”

“…Or the gods?”

Saphienne nodded. “It wasn’t the gods, Laelansa. That doesn’t matter, though, because half the spirits decided I’m so wicked I’m beyond redemption, and the rest believed I must be what Ruddles tells you. There wasn’t any way to be sure which, or they didn’t want to decide then and there, so the matriarch decreed I would be corrected by being denied the blessings of the woodland spirits until I’m– until I’m an adult. Then,” she concluded, “since they couldn’t be certain of my virtue, Hyacinth was appointed my guardian spirit… and now my conduct is being judged.”

The novice dwelled on her story. “…It must have been something important. Did you hurt anyone?”

“No…” Again, her friends came to mind. “…But I scared some people, very badly.”

“And was it the right thing to do?”

No spirits but Hyacinth could hear her, she knew, in that grand and warded house. She nevertheless needed her every courage to face Laelansa. “That’s the secret I need you to keep: it was. And if I could go back, despite everything that’s happened since? I’d do it again.”

Yet the girl didn’t turn away. “…Ruddles is right about you. It was the gods, Saphienne, whether or not you believe in Them. And you don’t, do you?”

“No.” She was surprised by how forlorn she sounded. “I am an apostate. I don’t believe in any of it. None of it is–”

Laelansa hugged her.

Saphienne leaned into her embrace.

“I don’t know why,” the girl whispered in her ear, “the gods don’t want you to believe in Them. Do the gods believe in Themselves? I don’t think even Ruddles knows that, but if you’re being made like Them, this has to be part of it.”

“I’m not–”

“Then I’m wrong.” She leaned so close that her breath was in Saphienne’s ear. “Prove it.”

Saphienne shivered.

“I think you’re ceaseless, and you try to balance the scales. The gods are alive in you, Saphienne. Whatever you did, I won’t believe They didn’t want it to happen. And even if I’m wrong, and there are no gods? You can’t prove it.” There was smug satisfaction in her voice. “So as far as I’m concerned, you’re not an apostate — which you aren’t, because you’re too young to be one. So there.”

The novice was the most naïve person Saphienne had ever met… and that made her among the most wonderful.

Letting go of Saphienne, Laelansa held her good hand. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll forget everything you said. Would you like to open these gifts? Or have some tea? What do you want?”

What did she want? Not to think. Not to be herself. To walk with Hyacinth, were that not impossible.

Saphienne bit her lip.

“…Saphienne?”

“I’d like you to kiss me.”

Delighted, Laelansa grinned and briefly did as requested, beaming after.

Why did she feel so sick, and yet so thrilled? “I mean really kiss me.”

Her girlfriend blushed scarlet, and she giggled, looking down. “…I was wondering if you would like that…”

“I woul–”

Laelansa shocked Saphienne by straddling her lap, full weight upon her as she combed through her hair and gazed down into her eyes. As the apprentice wizard felt her heart race in dread, the novice pressed against her mouth, and the kiss she received made every other they had shared seem merely friendly, tame when compared to the passion that was loosed.

Too stunned to resist, too afraid to kiss back, Saphienne simply assented.

Eventually, Laelansa pulled away. “Was that good eno–”

“Again.”

The second time, Saphienne did her best to reciprocate, fighting down the urge to throw Laelansa off herself and flee, pushing through whatever she dimly felt certain was trauma but had no will to contemplate.

Pleased, Laelansa caught her breath. “So you liked–”

“Again!”

Laughing loudly, Laelansa threw caution to the wind, and she grabbed Saphienne by her tall ears and kissed her with every hunger, slipping her tongue between her lips in nervous foray–

Saphienne groaned, unsure whether in pleasure or pain, and pulled her girlfriend tight against herself.

 

* * *

 

So that was lust.

Saphienne had experienced something like it before — only far milder. What confused her then, as it did now, was that the desire she felt was not attached to anything in particular. She didn’t yearn for a person – or the fantasy of one – like she had read she ought to, and what Laelansa made her feel was not for Laelansa.

Still, as they slowly and and firmly kissed, growing more familiar with each other’s rhythms, Saphienne reasoned that she did like Laelansa in a sexual way, it was just that something in herself was broken. She vaguely recollected how she had felt when her girlfriend nearly kissed her on the first day of the festival, and though the memory was coloured by the present, she was sure she hadn’t felt the same horrible sensations as now.

Sensations that, gradually, as the kiss softened and the caressing of her ears grew bolder, lost their terror and diminished. That suggested it was anticipation–

Moaning, she broke away with a gasp. “Laelansa… I want to try something…”

Thrilled to hear those words, her girlfriend giggled. “Yes?”

“Promise me that we won’t fuck until we’re older.”

Never had Saphienne imagined someone could be stricken, flustered, and relieved in the same instant, but Laelansa succeeded. “I wasn’t– I hadn’t planned to do anything more with you–”

“Please, promise me we won’t?”

Where she scrutinised Saphienne, a brief pang of disappointment shone in Laelansa, then faded into gentle acceptance as she recognised the vulnerability she was being shown. “…Are you afraid?”

“I don’t know.” Saphienne swallowed. “That’s my conjecture.”

Laelansa slowly grinned. “And you trust me enough that my promise will make a difference?”

“I think it’s poss–”

“I promise.”

Saphienne blinked.

Laelansa solemnly held up her hands. “I swear before my patron goddess, Our Lady of the Proven Merit, that I, Laelansa of the Vale of the White River, will not fuck you, nor attempt to fuck you, until we are older, and you are ready. So may the gods help me.”

Saphienne blinked again.

Laelansa pressed her forehead to Saphienne’s. “Did that–”

Alas, whatever Laelansa was going to say not even she could know, for fury of the kiss that followed consumed them both.

 

* * *

 

By the end they lay on the floor in each other’s arms, their clothes soaked in sweat, burning in their embrace. Oblivious to the passage of time, Saphienne’s only reference was that the sky outside the window had yellowed.

Saphienne sniffed herself. “I need a bath.”

Laelansa smiled teasingly. “I need more than a bath.”

Choked, Saphienne gently poked her in the ribs. “…You promised!”

“You’re not invited.” Laelansa stuck her tongue out. “But I’ll be thinking about you, all the same…”

Ice cut through her belly — and this time, Saphienne was sure what had caused it. “…I am afrai–”

A knock at the door interrupted them.

“Saphienne?” Celaena called. “Can I co–”

“No!” both girls answered, and then glanced at each other, erupting into giggles.

A pause followed. “…Do you need fresh bedsheets?”

Saphienne tried to cover her face with both hands, half-succeeding. “Gods! Celaena!”

Muffled, wicked laughter carried through the door. “Are you both dressed?”

Before Saphienne could stop her, Laelansa replied, “Yes?”

The door opened, and Celaena gazed in — then flushed red. “I didn’t– I thought you were just being–” She quickly shut the door again.

Saphienne looked Laelansa and herself over, seeing that they were dishevelled and obviously amorous, but not indecent. “We were only kiss–”

“I’ll bring the Wand of Cleansing and run a bath,” Celaena cut her off. “I’m happy you’re feeling better… gods…”

As the older girl retreated, Laelansa stood, stretching her legs… and sagged.

Saphienne stared worriedly up at her. “What?”

She pointed to the floating tray. “The tea will be too steeped… and cold. I’ll go make a fresh pot.”

Seizing the hem of her dress, Saphienne tugged. “Stay? If you bribe Celaena with chocolate, I’m sure she’ll brew us another.”

“You don’t care about the tea; you want more kisses.”

“Only one more. Before she comes back? I need to substantiate my the–”

 

* * *

 

When she returned, Celaena was more composed, though she still blushed as she handed Laelansa the rod and sent her to the guest bathroom. Saphienne was surprised when she left the door ajar, strode in, and opened the window.

The breeze was cooling. “I’m sorry we–”

“My fault.” Celaena was visibly torn between her usual embarrassment and a wry smile. “Laewyn told me she caught you two kissing, but I didn’t think you were… I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Reflecting on what she knew, Saphienne sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m not sure I do… not like everyone else.”

Her friend shrugged. “Who knows how everyone else really is? I don’t show that part of myself to anyone but Laewyn. She and Thessa are comfortable being obvious, but… it seems undignified.”

The mention of Thessa made Saphienne think about her brother. “I feel Iolas would call that ‘being uptight,’ but I can’t imagine him being like his sister.”

“They do seem very different.” Celaena turned around, careful not to knock the plant pot as she leant against the sill. “Faylar lacks confidence, but Iolas? He’s just… so polite about it he’s bashful. Laewyn is convinced he likes girls, but who knows? I don’t think anyone he was interested in would even know.”

They lapsed into silence, Saphienne pondering Iolas and Thessa, wondering whether he would become more like his sister as he aged, or whether she would become more like her brother, and how it was they were so different in some ways, and whether it was down to nature or–

Shaking her head, Saphienne let the future be. “Are there priests outside?”

“Iolas was talking to the last one when I came in.” Celaena’s expression grew concerned, and she lowered her voice. “He told me the gist of what happened. Saphienne… Iolas believes it was a spirit who tried to kill you. He’s sure of it, now. More than one of the priests had the same worry.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Sighing, Saphienne threw herself back on the bed, draping her sleeve across her eyes. “Ever feel like every day brings something worse than the day before? Almon will–”

“–Hear about what happened, and he’ll be convinced of Taerelle’s theory–”

“–And when the spirits won’t cooperate, he’ll start digging.” Saphienne had foreseen everything spiralling out of control. “He’ll start by trying to find out why not, then who they have told, and when that goes nowhere, he’ll sit down with what he does know — and ask himself why I have a guardian spirit, and who she is, and when after our lesson Hyacinth became my guardian spirit, and he’ll line up the timing with the clearing, and remember everything that happened…”

Celaena sat heavily on the foot of the bed. “…He’s going to figure it out, isn’t he?”

“I,” Saphienne agreed, “am completely and utterly fucked.”

“Will the Luminary Vale help?”

“No.” Saphienne pictured the letter. “Reading between the lines? They were impressed I managed to stay on top of the situation, but they didn’t approve of what it implied about me. Taerelle is meant to fail me if she thinks I’m unfit to be a wizard. If I can’t manage this on my own, then I’ll lose the only thing they see as a positive.”

“Then…” Celaena clasped her hands. “…I see only two ways out. Admit the lies, and lose your apprenticeship–”

“–Or find a way to deliver the culprits to Almon.” Saphienne couldn’t fault her calculus; it was the same she had already reached. “But that’s not possible.”

“I know the lack of justice will hurt, but is your pride worth more than your apprenticeship?”

“That’s not…” Saphienne sat up. “…Shut the door. And close the window.”

 

* * *

 

Impassive, Celaena didn’t react as Saphienne shared what Taerelle had revealed, only clasping her fingers together as she learned about the covert justice that wizards delivered and the Luminary Vale pretended not to notice. She said nothing when Saphienne was done.

“…You see my problem?”

Celaena stared up at the ceiling, the blue in her gaze mirroring the false heavens it presently showed. “I see why you don’t want to. I don’t think it should be a problem.”

“But justice–”

“That’s not the issue.” The daughter of a wizard was pragmatic. “Justice would be that they’re punished. You’re concerned about the precedent — but that’s already been set.” She focused on Saphienne. “You don’t think it should be this way, I know. Yet it is. You’re not responsible–”

“I’d be complicit.” Saphienne crossed her arms. “And how can I trust it’ll be proportional? Almon has an awful temper.”

That latter argument gained purchase on Celaena. “…You’re right. And you’re a better person than me, Saphienne, because I wouldn’t care what happened to them, so long as it hurt.”

Her smile for Celaena’s honesty was bitter. “It has to even out. They shouldn’t be more affected than I was…” Her gaze drifted down to her useless hand. “…And not affected in the same way. I don’t want them afflicted. I just want…”

Sliding closer, Celaena murmured, “For them to be so afraid that they never treat a– that they never hurt anyone ever again.”

And for them to feel pain, Saphienne admitted to herself. “Close enough. But this is pointless… there’s no way to know they’ll be punished fairly. The only options are to accept my apprenticeship is going to end, or to hand them over.”

Finding no way around it, Celaena exhaled. “How long until he figures it out?”

Estimating that was very difficult, but Saphienne knew Almon, and so ran through the likely scenario as she hunched forward. “Right now, he’ll be absorbed by coordinating the magical investigation, because his peers expect him to lead, and his pride demands it. Travellers from the other vales would usually depart over the next week; the wizards and sorcerers helping him are all committed, so will probably stay until the end.

“Meanwhile,” Saphienne continued, “when he receives word about today he’ll want to know what happened. He won’t waste time with me — he’s an important wizard, so he’ll demand answers from the spirits. They’ll stick to my story, and evade the rest.

“He’ll end up asking the local elders, who know nothing, and then writing to the Luminary Vale, whom I expect will not respond quickly…” She asked herself why, then rolled her eyes at the obvious answer. “…Because the intelligent thing to do would be to see what conclusion he reaches, and to tailor their answer accordingly. So he’ll be left with nothing more to do while he waits, and it’s then that he’ll sleep, clear his head, and reconsider his assumptions.”

Straightening with a shrug, Saphienne was blunt. “My guess? Two weeks to exhaust himself, a night’s rest, and then maybe an hour — give or take.”

Celaena was wide-eyed.

“…What?”

She waved the question away. “Never mind… so we have less than two weeks to come up with a solution. Until we do, you need to act normally: do whatever you can to make clear that you’re unafraid of the woodland spirits.”

For want of another approach, Saphienne agreed. “Then, once I’m rested? I can’t just stay in here. I have to be seen.”

“And be seen confident.” Celaena gripped her wrist. “Lensa and the rest must know: they haven’t changed you. Could you act like you don’t recall?”

Stilling, Saphienne let her memories surface.

–The coin being pried from her broken–

She pulled away. “No. No, I can’t hide it from them if I see them.”

Celaena took a deep breath. “Then you’ll need to practice showing them that you remember it all, and that you’re unruffled…” Her smile was cruel. “…Because you know you’re going to fucking destroy them. Can you do that?”

Somewhere, within her heart, Saphienne felt her fury stir. “I think I can pretend.”

 

* * *