Page 27 of The Avowed
Dri and I both watch him make his way to the bar in silence. She turns back to me, her stare appraising for a beat before a resolute gleam enters her eyes.
“Your connection to the Altern means it’s probably right for you to know some of the history, no matter how much others may wish to bury it,” she declares, taking another sip of her meade and scooting closer to me.
She runs a hand over her short cropped hair, and her deep purple eyes look around the room once before deciding we’re clear. Eager interest sparks through me as Dri leans closer. I know I’m about to be let in on some grade A juicy gossip, and I’m so fucking here for it. I clear my throat and try not to look like some excited psycho as I play with the handle of my cup and wait for her to spill the tea.
“Sice’s family was very affluent. He grew up rubbing wings with the Syta’s family, the Commander’s family, and the family of the leader of the rebels we’re currently at war with,” she tells me on the faintest whisper.
I lean in slightly to hear her better and ignore the goose bumps that rise up on my arms. My white hair falls forward, curtaining us and giving us even more privacy.
“They were the best of the best of our kind. They practically bled magic and ability, and were the hope of our people after thousands of years of slavery.”
Dri pauses to take a sip of her drink, her eyes far away and her tone hollow.
“The problem was that over time, very different opinions of how to lead our people into the future took root, and a crack formed in the foundation of what we were trying to build now that we were free people again. The boys were young and more interested in their urges to fight, rut, and play, but their families were quick to destroy all of that.”
Loud laughter from a table in the corner catches both of our eyes, and then we settle back down into our whispers.
“Lazza and Treno’s parents struck out at anyone who didn’t agree with their way of thinking. No one saw it coming, but they must have been planning it for some time, because in just one night, anyone who wasn’t for keeping the vow mark was either dead or imprisoned. Many were left broken, Ryn’s family, and Zeph and his brother among them.
“The people for the Vow thought that would be the end of it. They expected the show of power to put people in their place, but they forgot who gryphons are in their core. Plans for retaliation simmered under the surface of the forced peace, waiting for the spark that would light everything up.”
Dri stops talking suddenly like the words in her mouth burn and hurt. Unease trickles through me, and I know the next part of the story won’t be sunshine and rainbows.
“Zeph’s brother, Issak, wasn’t the same after what happened to their parents. They would have been better off if they had been banished or something, but instead, they were forced to spend every day under the boot of the rulers who had destroyed everything they had. They weren’t imprisoned. They were beaten and forced to live life like nothing had happened. Lazza, Treno, Ryn, Sice, Zeph and Issak were tutored together, trained together, took meals together.
“It was as though the leaders for the Vow thought that their bond would erase what had been done to them. Then one day, Issak tried to kill Lazza. He snapped under the weight of it all and almost ended the Syta. In response, Lazza’s father had Issak publicly beaten and his wings sheared off. Our people were all forced to watch. No one was exempt from witnessing them mutilate a boy who had once been a representation of hope to our Pride...and then out of nowhere, they slit his throat.”
I bring my hands up to my mouth, shocked and appalled by what she’s saying. I thought it was bad when Zeph explained to me what had happened to his family, but to hear these added details...it’s infinitely more horrifying.
“Zeph fought to get to Issak, to hold him as he died, and that was the spark that set everything alight. It was too much, too brutal, too close to what we had just fought to free ourselves from. Battles broke out everywhere. There were gryphons fighting to protect Zeph, to protect what his family stood for, to return the violence that had been acted out on too many families in the dead of night.
“It was chaos, and everyone lost someone that day. The rebels fled when they couldn’t completely beat back the Marked. It was brothers against brothers. Families divided and fighting each other. There was never going to be a winner no matter what happened, but the Hidden were born, as were the Avowed. We’ve been killing each other ever since.”
Dri empties her stein and stares off at nothing, her gaze haunted. I sit there, silently reeling, and try to make sense of everything she just told me.
“But why the separate sides? What Lazza’s family did was wrong,” I state, not making sense of why anyone could have sided with them.
Dri chuckles humorlessly.
“If it were only that simple,” she states flatly. “You see, it started with people who cared more for power than for what was right or wrong, but it has morphed into more than that now. Atrocities have been meted out by both sides. Lazza and Treno’s family have been systematically slaughtered. Ryn lost his sister, and the rest of his family slowly took each other out too.
“Sice’s parents left to become Hidden, but he stayed here because his gryphon called to a female who refused to leave. Her family put a stop to the match because of his parents’ choice, and she killed herself a couple months later. There’s so much pain and anger wrapped around everyone now. There’s no hope of reconciliation. There’s no clear right or wrong anymore.”
Dri and I both jump as three more steins slam down on the table, and Sice sits back down next to us. We jump apart, our gossip session now interrupted and over. I try to hide my irritated huff, but there’s so much I want to ask about Zeph and Ryn, about this war. About Treno and the role he and his brother played. From what Dri is saying, it’s as though the sons are being judged by the actions of their parents. All of them were best friends at one point—do they not have any affection or respect left for one another at all?
“Your turn to toast, milady,” Sice exclaims, and I choke on the meade I just pulled into my mouth. I cough and slap my chest.
“What do I toast to?” I ask, wracking my brain for the toasts I’ve heard in my life. So far they’ve usually been to family or to the bride and groom at a wedding. Pretty sure I’ve heard one about sex, but none of that is appropriate right now.
“Well, do your people have a battle cry or something you say to get a warrior’s blood moving?” he asks casually, like that’s something everyone should have. I try to think through things people say in the military, but I can’t think of anything as Sice just stares at me expectantly. And then it hits me.
I stand up and slam my stein against his and shout, “Wakanda Forever!”
Sice and Dri both grunt, slam their own mugs against mine, and shout out the same thing. The next thing I know, the whole tavern is doing it. I chuckle, not able to help myself, and sit back down. Black Panther is the shit...no matter what world you live in.
10
Igroan and stretch, the cool sheets on the bed a balm to my sweaty and fevered skin.Fuck, I’m hungover.
