Page 49 of The Truth-Teller's Bargain
Kerrigan refused satisfaction. “You really think we can win this war without bloodshed? What do you think happened today? Do you think we sent them back to their mommies? Do you know how many people your parents haveslaughtered?”
“Ker,” Emi chastised, her voice a stern plea for reason.
“We should have left her on the goddamn cliffs where we found her.”
But Nakir ignored Kerrigan and took a step closer, stooping down to be eye level with her. “What did you see that terrified you so badly, Alethea?”
Her voice was barely above a whisper as she tried to shrink and make herself small enough that no one would hurt her. “If you sieged the city, Kerrigan was going to die.” She remembered her mother’s order:“Kerrigan Arranil is to be killed on sight.”
No one spoke for a moment. Kerrigan’s fire winked out, leaving behind an unsettling emptiness in its absence. The shock was evident in the expressions of everyone present—Balthasar’s neutral mask faltering, Dawes’s brow furrowing with concern, Emi’s usually bright eyes clouded with worry, and Nakir’s features etched with a mix of understanding and pain.
“I’m so sorry,” Alethea promised again, guilt clawing at her. “I made a mistake.” A shiver crept down her spine, an echo of the trauma that lingered from her past, a reminder of the abuse of her powers by her mother, and the relentless fear of abandonment by others and, more hauntingly, herself. The dark sky seemed to close in around her, her abilities and the secrets they held threatening to suffocate her.
Nakir’s voice cut through her turmoil, his tone unexpectedly gentle. “Thank you for your apology. But I don’t blame you.”
A stunned silence fell between them. How could he say that?
“Wh-what?”
“I don’t—truly. Was I angry? Yes, at first. I wish you’d confided in me. After your vision, we changed our plans. We were meant to set off for Meseira in the morning.” He raised a dark brow. “Do I wish you would have felt safe enough to trust me with your fears instead of casting a Sending Ritual that had hundreds of people locked out of the city? Yes. But I understandwhy you did what you did. I would have done the same if I were in your shoes.”
The air left her lungs as she blinked up at him. Was this a trick? She’d expected him to express his anger with her, but his words were bordering on kind. She thought her suspicions were confirmed when his face set in anger once more and he turned to Kerrigan.
“Kerrigan. You’re in no position to lecture someone about costly mistakes.”
His fire mage’s face fell once more, twisting as if suddenly plagued by intrusive memories.
“If we called every person who erred a traitor, none of us would be here, would we?”
Whatever he was referencing had Kerrigan whiter than a ghost.
“How are we supposed to trust her?” she asked desperately. “What if she’s lying? What if she’s been lying to us thiswholetime?”
“She isn’t lying.” Nakir didn’t waver.
“You can’t possibly know that,” Kerrigan scoffed. “Don’t be blinded by your di?—”
“Alethea isn’t lying.” He turned away from the fire mage and lowered his voice for his court, his eyes locked on her own. “Because she can’t. Can you, Alethea?”
His words held a strange mix of reassurance and challenge, pulling at the threads of truth woven into the fabric of her being. Alethea inhaled sharply, eyes wide, her vulnerability exposed before them all. Kerrigan’s jaw hung open as she struggled to understand the implications of Nakir’s claim.
“How... how did you know?” Alethea’s face burned.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I never understood why you told me the truth the day we found you. You could have said you had no idea who I was, and we might have returned you to safety, but you didn’t. Every Oracle has a curse, a price to pay fortheir connection to the Weave, and the curse is often related to their specific ability. You can speak the truth of the Weave, but you canonlyspeak the truth.”
Alethea trembled with exhaustion from the day and from the knowledge he’d known her darkest secret and hadn’t weaponized it once.
“Damn,” Dawes swore, arms crossed as he regarded her.
“Nothing has changed for us.” Nakir regarded each member of his Dark Court, all of them now quiet and contemplative in light of what he’d shared. “Get some rest tonight. We leave for Aegea in the morning.”
Alethea stood dumbfounded, struggling to understand what had happened. Only total obedience had ever won her mother’s approval. Choosing her mother could have cost the lives of hundreds... or she could have trusted Nakir would listen to reason. She could have trusted Nakir would listen toher. She stared up at him, unable to believe this man, who was practically a stranger to her, would have any reason to trust her in return.
The idea of trust was a foreign concept—one she had never truly experienced. But in Nakir’s eyes, there was a glimmer of faith; a tiny spark that dared her to believe in his sincerity.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Emi suggested in her soothing voice. She gently led Alethea away from the group with a small, comforting smile.
The storm mage’s presence provided a sense of solace, a fleeting moment of respite in the midst of turmoil. Alethea was more than willing to follow the storm mage wherever she led her, unable to look back at the others they left behind.
