Page 47 of The Truth-Teller's Bargain
“Mika,” Nakir groaned, halting his efforts.
The scholar stiffened, taking a step back. “Sorry! I only meant to say, you probably want to be careful.”
Nakir narrowed his eyes as he continued to chip away at thestone. With both Balthasar and Mika looking over his shoulder, it was incredibly difficult to work efficiently.
“Can you just... go look at the stag or something?” he finally asked Mika, who stepped back eagerly. Even now, the kid seemed perfectly happy to just be along for the ride.
“He’s been studying this for years, Nakir. He’s just excited. Cut him some slack,” Balthasar chided.
“He knows the deal. And he’s pissing me off.” Nakir resumed his efforts, gently tapping away at the stone surrounding the amulet. Minutes ticked painfully by before he even began to make progress, but the Dreamseeker finally wiggled free, slipping into his open hands.
Trepidation buzzed through Nakir’s veins as he inspected it carefully. Silver tendrils snaked around a mysterious blue stone, which glimmered in the faint firelight. The amulet in his hands represented the possibility of a future where the Hasan name was respected and honored once more; where he could finally stop hiding, checking all his meals and drinks for poison, or looking over his shoulder for the next assassin. The Dreamseeker would bring him to his future. To Lenorea.
To home.
“Do you know what you’re going to ask for?” Balthasar asked, his quiet voice barely echoing in the small room.
“I’ve thought of nothing else since we learned about it months ago.” Nakir studied the Dreamseeker, both hands holding the precious artifact. “There are so many things I want to wish for.” For his parents to be alive again. For his father to be king. For Aikat to have never taken the throne... To have been born without the horns of an Aeshlien. To have his magic back... “But there’s only one thing that will get me what I want.” Nakir took a deep breath, closing his eyes and focusing his entire being on the Dreamseeker. Though he no longer had access to magic, he still remembered what it felt like as if it were a phantom limb.He reached for that again, imagining it wrapping around him and guiding him forward.
“I seek the Truth-Teller. Reveal it to me.”
Nakir waited in the darkness, eyes closed. He expected some vision to flash behind his eyes, or for the walls to shift and reveal the answer to his request. Everything stood still as he waited for something to happen.Anything.
Minutes crept by.
There was only the three of them, standing in the ancient, decrepit temple of Nehalennia.
Something wasn’t right.
“What’s wrong with it?” Nakir asked, desperation clawing at him as the thought crossed his mind that they had come all this way for an artifact thatdidn’t do anything.“Mika! What’s wrong here? It’s... It’s not working.” Had the magic already been used up? Were the texts wrong about what it did?Hadthey come all this way for nothing?
“I don’t think you’re doing anythingwrong,” Mika replied from across the room.
“It didn’t work,” Nakir whispered, shaking his head. All of this... for nothing.
“I... I don’t understand. You did exactly what the texts?—”
But Mika’s words were cut off abruptly by a sickeningcrack.
Nakir’s gaze shot up to see three arrows protruding from the arcanist’s neck. All the air left his lungs.
Mika had stepped on a stone exactly like the one they’d passed earlier. Nakir could see a hole had opened from one of the smooth walls by the entrance, but it was too late.
Mika’s body hit the stone floor with a thud.
“Fuck!” Nakir rushed to him, rolling the arcanist over onto his back, as if there was anything he could do. “Mika! Mika, listen to me.Mika.”
The light had already left his eyes.
“Don’t,” Balthasar said quietly, his voice a trembling whisper. “He’s gone, Nakir.”
“No!” Nakir swore, shaking Mika’s limp shoulders as blood soaked the stone floor under his knees.
Every ounce of frustration he’d felt at the kid came rushing back up in direct confrontation. Mika had done nothing but ask curious questions and guide them exactly to where he had promised. In doing so, he’d given up his future, his life, for atrinket.
Nakir had failed him in every way possible.
Wasthiswhat it took to get Lenorea back? What throne was worth this? All Nakir had done with his entire life wasruin. How many lives would be lost in his quest for vengeance and retribution?
