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She sinks into the same spot on the sofa she inhabited nights before, and I sit beside her, this time leaving ample space between the two of us.
With a long pull of the mead, I begin the story I have dreaded telling since she came down that elevator.
“Link found the elevator. Stone and I were dumbfounded. As you discovered, it would take someone with considerable Winter magic to navigate to it and get the hatch open. So imagine our surprise when the gate opened, and Link, freshly a man in his Ascension year, stood there.”
Viola’s eyes are wistful, no doubt her mind on the memories of that year with Link. Jealousy for a long-gone moment pinches my chest.
“We believed he must be the vessel. After all, he found the elevator.” She nods her understanding, drinking slowly from the mug I made her. “But, and I’m sorry to tell you this because I know you’ll find it distasteful, we had been keeping an eye on you for years by that point. And we knew the relationship you had with Link.”
She flinches, the impact of my words a shock to her system. “You were watching me that closely?”
I smile ruefully. “You must understand, Viola, to find the vessel, we had to track the original four families. As I told you, the more removed we became from the initial banishment, the harder it was to keep track of the members of each family. Eventually, we just had to put eyes and ears in each town in hopes of seeing something.”
Confusion crosses her face, then realization. “The night I stole from Jaz.” It wasn’t a question. I just met her gaze. “I was under her window, and I heard someone coming. I hid in the shadows. They passed by, and nothing else happened. Was that...”
“One of my men, yes. I have always believed that even if you weren’t the vessel, you would lead me to them, so I have kept tabs on you.”
She groans and shakes her head at me. “You’re such a fucking creep.” A light laugh coats the words, and warmth runs through me, displacing some of the worry that is making itself at home.
“I guess you’re right about that.” I chuckle, turning to face her on the couch. “We questioned Link about you and your powers. He, of course, knew nothing. He described to us a strong girl who kept his deepest secret. He told us about how much he loved you and how you were going to change the world. He also spat at our feet and swore you’d be there to slit our throats in three years.”
Viola tries to disguise a laugh with a cough.
“Eventually, Stone grew increasingly frustrated with Link’s lack of magical prowess. He could not call any magic towards him. Still, Stone insisted on performing the ritual with him. I told him it was a bad idea; the boy was clearly not the vessel.” Her face is pained, her hands tapping a light pattern on her thighs. I hold my hand out for hers, and she takes it quickly.
“If you’re amenable to it, Viola, I could influence some calm to you. Unfortunately, you may need it.” Without speaking, she nods, and I set my intention solely on her, pushing out the slightest wave of calm I can muster. Immediately, her fingers still in my own.
“The ritual is a complex spell, requiring the vessel to participate. When Link attempted to participate in the spell, his body… well, his body revolted, Viola.”
The quiet of the room is punctuated only by our beating hearts.
“He didn’t make it, Viola. The ritual is meant to create the body of the Frostweaver, Himureal, out of the vessel’s magic and life force. His body could not spare what was taken for the spell.”
She lets out a choking sound and doubles over, her grief fresh and raw on her face. When her eyes meet mine, hot, angry tears pour from them. “Everyone told me he died during the Race. Everyone. I convinced myself he had reached the elevator. It was better for my soul and gave me something to work toward.”
I sit in silence, giving her space to process and react to the earth-shattering news I gave her.
“And now you’re telling me that he found the elevator. He did what he promised to do when we were but children, and he… he died a horrible, pointless death? And you participated in it?” She snarls at me, red-rimmed eyes laced with fury.
I wish I could tell her I know how she feels, but I can’t. To hold that hope for a decade to have it shattered must be impossible to deal with.
Her hands have long since left my own, finding a place upon her shins as she pulls her knees to her chest. “I need to see my parents, Mace. Take me to the human village.”
Fuck.
Tulip had told me yesterday that if I held any more secrets, I better get them out, but this was one I was hoping to not have to address right now, on top of everything else she’s suffered tonight. “I can’t do that, Viola.”
She looks at me, lip curled in a snarl. “And why not?”
I reach for my forgotten mug of mead and take a deep sip. “Have I told you why we want to bring the Gods back?” For a moment, she looks confused at my change of subject.
“You said they’ll bring prosperity for everyone. What does that have to do with my parents?”
I hold up my hand, “Humor me, please.” Surprisingly, she nods and grabs her own mug to sip. “When my parents died, I was quickly elected to lead the Patricians. I was unprepared and unwilling, but Stone, my father’s closest advisor, insisted I could do the job and do it well. Once I was settled in my role, he informed me about the banishment of the Gods.
“I was devastated. I was quite pious, you see. It took me a long time to recover from the fact that the Race was not for the Gods enrichment but for the search of a vessel.”
Her nose wrinkles, confusion knotting her brow. “What do you mean?”
