Rise (War Witch Book 1) (34 page)

All of which meant, a betrayal of her own heart could only serve to bring another happiness, and that, she supposed, was what really mattered. Her life could serve some purpose at least. For Esteban, if not herself.

"Chara?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"Dinner is ready."

Pushing off from the wall, she turned, accepting the plate he offered. "Sorry. My mind was elsewhere."

He nodded slowly, picking at the food on his plate. "I know. Today has brought nothing but ill news."

"I thought it best if I, if we, didn't stay with her… But now…” She shook her head.

"If for no other reason than to be there, as friends," he nodded.

Chara mulled that for a moment. As friends. She thought of the way Ramora had touched her, held her, the first day they had arrived at the keep. The word “friends” felt bitter in her mind. Where had it all gone wrong? How had it managed to spin so horribly away from her?

"Yeah," she said. "As friends."

Esteban considered her for a moment. "You disagree."

Chara shook her head, feeling exhausted. "No, not at all. I know we need to go with her, as far as we can, anyway. It's just, I don't know what good we can possibly do. A guy like this, to beat him, she'll need an army, and in case you haven't noticed, we aren't one."

"I suppose we aren’t," he agreed. "Though, everyone needs people to be there for them. We may not be able to help her fight, but we can support her in other ways."

"Is that what you want to do?" she asked. "I mean, really, is that what you want to do?"

The big Cat pushed his plate aside, the meal not appetizing to him. "What I want is to make my life count for something. All of it I’ve spent here, helping father, and it’s been good enough for me. Now, though, I face an uncertain future, one I’m not well-prepared for. If I’m to continue living in a way I can be proud of, then I see no other choice but to do it aiding those who serve as the hand of the High Gods on this world."

"When you put it like that," Chara muttered, stabbing at her carrots in a savage manner they didn't entirely deserve.

"Is this not what you want?" he asked, tugging her plate away before she could mutilate the vegetables any further.

Chara groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I don't know what I want anymore. Every time I think I do, things get all crazy, and I lose sight of it, or feel like I can't reach it."

"I see," he said, ears twitching. "Perhaps it’s not the obtaining of your desires that matter, but the reaching for them in the first place."

Chara gave him a tired look. "Is that something Imicot told you?"

"It may be," he admitted.

"Figures," she sighed. "Smartest person in the room, that guy, all the time."

"Age has its benefits, it seems," the Cat replied with a soft smile. "Though, it’s something worthy of thinking on."

She nodded, making a sour face. "Me and thinking don't usually lead to good things, ya know."

"Only because you overthink them," he replied as he gathered their plates. "When you played Masters with father, you didn't over think, and you nearly bested him."

"I got lucky."

"Luck isn’t the same thing as natural talent, Chara," he chided. "Perhaps you sell yourself short."

She sank down on the counter, staring at him morosely. "You think so?"

"I’m certain of it," he told her, resting his elbows on the counter as well. "I’ve come to believe that you are far greater than you allow yourself to believe. You limit yourself, thinking that where you come from marks how high you can reach. If you allowed it, you would be able to do far more than you suspect."

She returned his smile, her own tinged with sadness. "Maybe. I guess we're going to find out, aren't we?"

"I think we should," he said.

"How can you always know just the right thing to say?" she asked, reaching out to toy with his ear.

"I speak from the heart, nothing more," he chuckled, purring softly at her touch.

Standing, she walked around the island and nestled against him, savoring the feel of his fur against her, the strength and smell of him soothing her troubled mind and heart. Maybe, she felt, there really were worse things in life than letting herself be loved by someone she wasn't sure she loved fully in return.

Or maybe
, she thought,
I just don't know how I really feel.

She helped him tidy the kitchen before they headed back upstairs, the night growing late. Outside the door to the room she’d meant to share with Ramora, she paused, knowing the Blessed was inside. Her hand felt too heavy to reach for the knob, leaving her standing there, staring at it in sorrow and loss.

"Are you all right?" Esteban asked, having hesitated a few feet from her as he made his way to his own rooms.

"No," she said softly. "I can't face her. I just can't. I can't explain it, but I know I can't."

Moving back to her, he rested a hand on her shoulder. "I can make up another room for you downstairs, if you like."

"Can I stay with you?" she asked, surprising even herself.

Esteban fumbled for a response. "I guess, I mean, if you want, that is, to be there, and uh... um..."

"I didn't mean stay with you for uh um," Chara told him. "I just don't think I can look her in the eye right now and be the friend she needs, after the way I've acted. So, no uh um. Unless you want uh um."

Closing her eyes, she counted to ten as she flushed furiously, unable to believe she’d just said that.
And they say men think with their crotch
, she admonished herself.
Look at me, doing no better!

Esteban struggled for words for a bit. "It does sound really great, but I don't want you to feel like you have to."

"Oh, I almost always feel like I have to," she said, and then wanted to turn and slam her face into a wall.

"Ah, um," the big Cat stammered.

"What I mean to say," she managed without humiliating herself any further. "Is that I want to not be alone right now. If all we do is hold each other, fine. If more happens, that's fine, too. I just know that I can't be in there, with her, while she's hurting, after the things I've said, and the way I've acted. Does that make sense?"

"It does, yes," Esteban said, reaching down to take her hand.

"Good, cause I've not been managing that well lately."

"I've noticed."

"Shut up."

She wished she could’ve explained it better, but somehow, she couldn't get what she felt to come out as words. When she thought of Ramora, alone in that room, no doubt suffering under the reality of what she faced, Chara felt a wave of shame that undid her completely. She’d been so cruel to her, said such hurtful things, for the stupidest of reasons. She felt like she couldn't go to her, comfort her, and be the friend she needed. She wasn't worthy of it.

More than that, she felt small against what they’d learned, the monster Ramora hunted. She felt so very tiny, and wanted to feel safe, for at least a little while. It was selfish, but she couldn't ask Ramora to give her that, not at the moment. With Esteban, she could have at least the illusion of it, and that she would take, while she could.

Soon, she wouldn't even have that, she knew. When they left the tower, there would be no safety. Just a cruel world full of evil. For tonight, she wanted that as far from her as possible.

She looked back as she followed the Were to his room, the door to Ramora's growing smaller. She hated herself for not being the person she wanted to be. She was weak, she knew, and small. She was frail, and human. She wasn't enough for a Blessed, a warrior, and a hero. She couldn't possibly be.

Esteban's room was similar to the one she’d been staying in for weeks, with only minor touches showing it as his own. Small things, possessions he treasured, were scattered around, a life lived in solitude. She looked at them, committing herself to the only path forward she could find.

Shrugging off her boots, she eased herself down on the bed, staring at nothing as the Were picked up some scattered clothes. It felt normal, a scene she’d played out before, more times than she wanted to admit. Scooting back on the bed, she laid down, wondering why it always came back to this.

She’d wanted to be more, only to find she had no more to give. She would’ve cried, but she didn't have the tears. She could only wish she’d done things differently, from the very start.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" he asked.

She nodded. "I am."

Why was it so easy to lie? When had she become that kind of person? Was it too late to change course, and set her eye on a different horizon? Would it offer a port any different than the one she found herself in now?

As he tugged off his shirt and sat next to her, she knew the answer. It had been too late long ago. She had made herself what she was. There was no other road, and hadn’t been for a long time.

Rakiss left the room, stepping through the wall with ease. He’d done it. She would commit herself to the Cat. Everything he’d fought so hard for was coming to fruition.

Alone, unseen, he slid down the wall and wept at the horrible thing he’d done, and the merciless fate he’d locked them both into.

Behind him, she gave herself to Esteban with ease, her thoughts always of the woman who lay so close by, yet was miles away.

Ramora sat on the floor, back against the foot of the bed, turning the ceremonial dagger of her priesthood over in her hands. Talbor had held her until she had no tears left to cry, then departed, allowing her to be alone. She’d always needed that, he knew, after she expressed her grief. It’d always been her way, to think on it after the tears.

Still, he lingered, watching over her, invisible to her eyes. Even a demigod can feel pain, and as he watched her, he knew nothing but. Her life had been unfairly cruel, and it never stopped. He wanted nothing more than to make it stop, to give her happiness that never ended.

"We can only do so much for them."

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Adalynn, and nodded slowly. "It's not fair, though."

"Such is life," she replied.

"It wasn't meant to be this way," he said.

She gave a rueful smile. "Many things were not meant to be the way they are."

"You mean Chara." Not a question, but a statement as he turned. "What do you know?"

"Only that Rakiss has some plan for her," the other Ascended shrugged. "One that prevents her from being here, where she was meant to be."

"Meant to be?"

Adalynn hesitated. "I'm not sure I should speak of it."

"Why not?"

"Fate has changed." She shook her head. “Twice now, actually.”

Talbor frowned. "What do you know?"

She sighed as she moved to stand by him, watching the Blessed chart her way through the broil of her emotions. "I spoke with Creta."

An Ascended of Terris, the Goddess of Time. "What did she say?"

"Not much," Adalynn shrugged. "You know how she is."

"A little too well," he admitted.

"She confided in me that the girl had two possible paths once she left her home, one stronger than the other," she said at length. "The first, the most possible, was to stand by Little Sister as her anchor to this world."

"And the second?"

"It was clouded, or so she claimed," Adalynn admitted. "But she said she saw great pain and sorrow in her future. Darkness, as well. She wouldn't tell me more than that."

Talbor weighed that for a bit. "So, since she’s not here, and Little Sister suffers alone, I guess it's safe to say that Rakiss has been maneuvering for that second path."

"Indeed," the other Ascended nodded. "Though I cannot guess why."

"Nor can I, but it bothers me greatly."

"I saw him twisting her aura," she said after a minute. "Adding darkness."

Talbor started. "Rakiss?"

"Yes," she said. "He threatened me."

Shaking his head, he faced the thing he didn't want to. "It may be time we speak with the Gods about his actions. This goes beyond what we’re allowed to do by a great deal."

"I don’t think it will avail us," she replied. "I’ve already spoken with Terakus, and she advised I leave the matter be."

"Why?" he blurted, taken aback by this.

Adalynn shrugged. "I cannot say."

Confused, Talbor tried to think it through, but nothing about it made sense. "Did Creta say anything else?"

"Just one thing," she admitted.

"Which was?"

"Little Sister may live longer now."

Talbor's face darkened. "May?"

Adalynn nodded. "That's what she said."

"What should we do?"

"I can do nothing," she admitted. "These matters don't actually concern me. I only looked into it because of what I saw Rakiss doing, and because Little Sister is precious to me, as she is to you. Beyond that, I cannot get involved."

"What should I do, then?" he asked.

"Watch yourself," she advised. "Rakiss is playing a dangerous game, one with stakes higher than we’re used to."

Steeling himself, he asked her the most unbelievable question his mind could fathom. "Do you think he’s turned against us?"

"Rakiss?" she asked back, stunned. "No, of course not. Never him."