NOVEL NEXT Chapter 67: A Truth
"We cannot catch a break today," Kess mumbled. Rowan went for his sword immediately, but Kess didn't bother with her staff. Some part of her knew it would find no purchase. Indeed, Rowan swung at it to no avail as it crept towards them. She moved past Rowan, Fulminancy crackling in her hands.
"Let me try to just blast it," she said. Rowan nodded, inching away from her. She wouldn't need to use much—she never did. But whatever this was, it wasn't of this world. So Kess dredged up more Fulminancy than she normally did—not enough to destroy, but enough to frighten and discourage.
At first, it was familiar and warm—much the same as it was during her practice sessions. But as the lightning crept out of her hands, Kess felt herself simply…snap.
Gone was the control she fought for on a daily basis. Gone were her limits. Gone was her sense of self preservation. Miles above, she felt a storm swirl and gather, the noise audible even inside the mountain itself.
Kess gritted her teeth, straining against that pull as her Fulminancy flooded the room, leaving nothing inside.
You're still holding back, the voice boomed across the room. From the corner of her eye, Kess saw Rowan jump at the noise. You have to release it. Remove the dampers on it.
"No," Kess said, squeezing her eyes shut. "I already gave so much." She fell to her knees in front of the shadowy creature as Fulminancy crackled throughout the room. It was then that she recognized the voice—Fanas, the Ashfall itself. She swore by Fanas's name only because she remembered hearing her voice once—the night she'd been forced into the Seventh Seat. "Have I not paid my price to you?"
You have no price. You belong to me, as all Seats do.
"I didn't make that choice," Kess screamed at the voice. "You saw what happened! You know how my Seat was given." Kess pulled on her power again, reining it in against the creature.
And yet you took it all the same. Power unused languishes. It festers and ferments. You rot from the inside out, yet you worry about that power corrupting you.
"It does corrupt," Kess whispered. "It always does."
Mariel designed it to be used. If there was one thing she got right, it was that. Refuse it if you wish, but know that it's just as much a part of you as your fighting. More so, even. Fulminancy wraps itself with your very soul.
"And why do you think I took up fighting in the first place?" Kess screamed into the cavern as wind rushed into it. The shadow creature in front of her simply stood there, bathed in Fulminancy, blinking at her from those strangely lit eyes. Was it supposed to be a representation of her?
The voice tried to approximate a laugh comprised of a strong gust of wind and a few snaps of lightning. We have a few ideas. And yet, how would you have fared without your Fulminancy, Kestril? A small girl, with no physical talent to speak of besides that staff you twirl around so much. How long do you think it would have taken you to be killed or gravely injured in Whitering?
"I worked my way into those rings," Kess whispered, her words dying on the wind. "I learned how to fight. I did it all without Fulminancy."
The voice seemed to laugh again. Did you?
Kess felt her stomach sink. She knew the truth now—she'd known for some time, though she'd chosen to ignore it. Fulminancy had saved her. The very thing she'd been condemning had been her source of safety, income, and pride for years after she'd left the Uphill. She was a fraud—a sham.
A monster.
Blearily, fighting against her own Fulminancy, Kess saw Rowan watching with wide eyes. He's never looked…afraid of me before, she thought. That alone sent her mind spiraling out of the room itself, to tangle with Fanas. The longer she fought, the more she lost her sense of self, and the more of her Fulminancy left her body. She had to do something.
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Her eyes snapped open, and she looked at the cloud-creature leaning over her. Kess's limbs were heavy and thick, but she raised her arm, inch by agonizing inch.
She plunged a fist into the creature. Her Fulminancy poured into it, eager to leave its host, but Kess desperately grabbed at a tiny rope and held on.
Maybe she was a monster. Maybe she had advantages others didn't. But she'd worked with desperate tenacity to survive in the rings. Even if her Fulminancy had helped her, did it erase who she was? Did it erase those years of backbreaking work?
Kess didn't think so.
A crack rang out through the chamber as Kess's Fulminancy snapped back into her arm. The creature evaporated, the room went dark save for Rowan's torch, and Kess collapsed to her hands and knees, breathing hard. She let her Fulminancy flare in one hand as she heard the click of a claw against stone. Rowan appeared at her side, and they both gasped as shadowed creatures the size of bears streamed down the cavern wall towards them. Kess flared her light again, trying to see to the top of the cavern, but there was no way to count all of them as they oozed down the wall like a thick syrup. Each head out of those thousands snapped towards her.
Rowan grabbed her, pulled her to her feet roughly, and put his arms around her. Far from being romantic, Rowan's embrace hit her Fulminancy like a heavy rock, and Kess felt a sick weakness flood through her body as that odd, muffled sensation flowed from Rowan into her. She leaned into him, breathing hard as the creatures hesitated, their heads in the air as if looking for something.
"I think they see by Fulminancy," Rowan whispered. Kess flinched, expecting the hoard to turn towards them, but the creatures simply paced slightly, disappointed.
Kess didn't move, stiffening as one creature sniffed at her lazily, then pawed away. For a moment, the only sound was a series of muffled thuds as the creatures padded about the room. Rowan finally broke the eerie silence.
"I assume we're going to have a lengthy conversation about what just happened," he said. His voice was steady, if a bit overwhelmed. "But for now, we might as well keep going. If this is what was guarding all of those old texts, I'm inclined to believe that Niall got the better end of the deal." Kess felt that she'd forgotten how to smile, and instead turned towards the doorway that stood across from where they'd entered. Rowan followed her gaze. A text adored the top of the door—this one written in plain language without glyphs.
A truth is required to pass.
"A truth?" Rowan asked, frowning. Kess shook her head. She extracted herself from Rowan and crept around the creatures until she stood in front of the opposing door.
"A personal truth," she whispered. "A deep truth." She looked at Rowan as he approached, staring at the door. Truth would destroy whatever this was between them.
Trust requires truth. Her own words bubbled up from somewhere deep in her memory. But could she really say this truth, here and now? Could she speak something she'd spent so many years running from, and in front of Rowan no less? She looked at him then, and saw something earnest—if a bit frightened—in his expression, layered with some desperation. Whatever was behind this door—that was important to Rowan. She could expose herself for him, even if she lost him in the process. Kess took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, then looked at the door and spoke her truth.
"I'm the Seventh Seat. The coward Mariel who abandoned the Uphill after killing my family and two Council members."
The statement rang in the stale air. Kess fought back the memories as they assaulted her. A high room above the city. Her parents, battered and broken. Crackling blue light, wildly out of her control. Lockets lying in a puddle of blood, even the rain shying away from the gore.
Something clicked behind the door, but it didn't budge. Rowan gaped at Kess, but quickly shut his mouth, glancing at the door again.
"It must need two," he said, studying it. "Judging from the mechanism, anyway." Kess could barely look at him, though she supposed it had only been a matter of time until he found out. Better here in this dark crypt than Uphill when the Council or her brother decided to make good on years of information.
Rowan's shoulders rose and fell, and his jaw set as he looked at the door. Finally, he spoke, his voice echoing strangely off the shadowed creatures behind them. "I studied the sword so that I could kill my father one day."
The door clicked open, the stone grinding against years of dust and dirt. Kess met Rowan's eyes, a little stunned, and he tried a halfhearted smile that did nothing to dampen the dark mood. "Everyone has secrets, Kess. A storm brings just as much mud with it as rain. But do you know what else it brings?"
Kess shook her head, suddenly exhausted. Rowan took her hand and smiled, which turned into a broader grin as the creatures retreated up the sides of the wall, driven away by the faint patch of light on the floor—not sunlight, exactly, which Kess had only read about, but rather, the brightening of a recently finished storm.
Rowan met her eyes and squeezed her hand, pulling her through the doorway.
"A better tomorrow."
The storm rumbled overhead, as if in agreement.