Finally, Sami placed the last dish—a tureen of soup—down on the table in front of my mother.
“Sami,” Mother’s voice broke through the quiet, and I flinched, expecting her to give her an order of some sort. Instead, she said, “Please, sit and join us.”
“Oh, madam, I couldn’t—”
“Sami, I insist. You’re part of this family, and you deserve to be part of this discussion.”
My eyes widened. The Paladin who had never known the mother I’d been raised by didn’t show any sign of surprise at her invitation; my father nodded encouragingly. But Inara was astonished enough to glance at me, eyebrows lifted.
With a flush and a little nod of her head, Sami hurried down to the empty chair beside Sachiel and sat, her gaze lowered.
“Thank you for taking the time to prepare all this food,” my father said as he reached out and spooned some roasted potatoes onto his plate. Everyone followed his cue, the next few moments filled with the sounds of cutlery and dishes clinking as everyone served themselves, though I wondered if they, like me, only did so not to offend Sami. The last thing I wanted to do was eat. Not when my grandfather still awaited burial tomorrow at sunset; not with the hole in the hedge still gaping wide, a wound the previously impenetrable plant seemed unable to heal; and Barloc still out there somewhere—powerful and dangerous, somehow managing to disappear into thin air, according to the Paladin who had gone after him and returned without news.
I glanced over at Inara and noticed her hand trembling as she spooned one tiny portion of steamed green beans onto her plate. The sanaulus from healing her enabled me to sense the tumult within her—a volatile mixture of hopelessness, pain, and fear. But she sat tall, her spine straight, expression benign, hiding her suffering as best as she could. Only that tremble in her hand, which she quickly folded back into her lap without taking a bite of the beans, gave her away.
A separate tug of awareness pulled my focus. I glanced up to see Raidyn watching from across the table, eyebrows pulled down over his brilliant blue-fire eyes. His concern was palpable even with the space between us. The sanaulus from when he’d healed me had grown even stronger after we saved Inara together, nearly draining us both. No one had ever been healed after having their power ripped from them before; she was the first known Paladin to have survived it—because of us.
After living my entire life believing Inara was the only one who had inherited our father’s power, it turned out we’d been wrong.
In the hours that had passed since that death-defying act, Raidyn’s eyes had grown brighter and brighter as his power rebuilt within him. There hadn’t been time to ask why my eyes didn’t glow, when it turned out I did have power after all. Though I really wanted to know, glowing eyes—or the lack thereof—was low on the list of questions that needed answering at that moment.
“So, what do we do now?” Loukas finally broke the silence. He sat stiffly, skin pallid and his temples damp. Raidyn had only partially healed his wound—sustained while fighting Barloc beside my grandfather—just enough to keep him alive. Raidyn and my father were hesitant to use any more power than absolutely necessary, needing to reserve as much as possible in case Barloc did make another appearance. But though Loukas was still in pain—at least until Raidyn finished healing him later tonight—he’d insisted on coming to dinner.
“How long will the jakla’s ability to absorb our power last? At what point can we fight back?” one of the two Paladin I didn’t know asked. He was young, maybe only a couple years older than me. We weren’t sure how many more had come from Visimperum; it had all been so chaotic. I had been so intent on my sister, I only had vague recollections of Paladin and gryphons coming through the gateway before it had shut again, trapping us all here. Not all of them had returned yet; we knew that much.
“There’s no way to be certain, Ivan,” Sachiel responded. She’d cleaned the blood off the side of her shaved head, but she still looked more worn than I’d ever seen her; there was a tightness around her eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there before the events of this day. “His ability to continue to absorb our power could last through the night … or even for a few days. It depends entirely upon how much power he already stole and how his body responds to the change.” Her glance slid to Inara, then back to her plate.
My sister stiffened beside me; I sensed her misery intensify at the reminder of what had been done to her—what had been ripped from her. Raidyn and I had barely managed to save her life. The memory of that gaping hole within her, roughly patched together by our joint power, sat heavily in my belly, leaving no room for any of the food I’d put on my plate.
“Is there a chance he won’t survive it?” The young Paladin—Ivan—sounded so hopeful.
“If he were fully human, there would be a possibility of his body being unable to handle it,” my father answered this time. “But if, as he claims, he had a Paladin grandparent, the chances of him surviving the change are much higher.”
“He claims to have had a Paladin grandparent?” Sachiel’s eyebrows rose.
My father sighed, using his fork to push his half-eaten potato around his plate. “Yes. He said there have been other Paladin who have opened the gateway and traveled to Vamala at different times, and his grandfather was one who came with a small group about a hundred years ago. He didn’t tell us why they came—but based on what he wants to do with the Paladin power he’s claimed, I don’t think it was anything good.”
“What does he intend to do?” Sharmaine, who had remained silent the entire time, finally spoke. I tried not to think of Raidyn running out to her when she and Sachiel had returned, how he’d enveloped her in his arms.
“He said he was going to find other Paladin who feel the way he does. He believes we deserve to rule over the humans because of our power and strength. He intends to bring an army back here and show Vamala what the true might of the Paladin is, and he will be the one to unleash it on them.”
Sachiel and Father shared a grim look. “You don’t think he’s part of the Infinitium sect … do you?” she asked.
The unfamiliar phrase sent a shiver over my skin, raising bumps on my arms, as though some deep, visceral part of me understood the direness of his speculation, even if my mind didn’t.
“I don’t understand how he could be … having lived here his whole life. But the fact that he knew how to steal Inara’s power and the things he was saying—wanting to gather an army to rule over the humans—it’s deeply concerning.”
“That’s an understatement,” Loukas muttered.
Everyone fell silent. Who knew where he’d go or what he’d do now that so much of his plan had failed. But my guess was that he wouldn’t stay away from the gateway for long. Not if an army was what he was after. I didn’t know what the Infinitium sect was, but it didn’t sound good.
“Halvor, he is your uncle. You knew him best.” My father turned to Halvor, sitting beside Inara. He flinched at the reminder, his plate as untouched as the rest of ours. I wondered if his stomach was cramping, sick, like mine. “What can you tell us about him?”
“Nothing,” he answered quickly, too quickly, his neck flushing. Some of the Paladin exchanged glances with eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t know about any of this, I promise. He kept some of his books hidden from me—locked in his office. He said he would let me read them when I had proven myself a better scholar of their ways. But now … after…” His eye flickered to Inara, then away again, the flush spreading to his cheeks. “I wonder if he didn’t want me to know what he was really researching.”