“Getting past the fog is only the start of our troubles,” Carrac said. He stroked his long white beard.
“Which is why I vote we stay,” Udor said. “If people want to go out there and get themselves killed, let them. Hutton’s Bridge should stay as it is. Leave the guardians in their place. Someone put them there for a reason.
“To hide us,” Bastian said.
“To protect us,” Udor countered.
“Truth lies in perception,” Carrac reminded them. “You,” he pointed to Bastian, “want to conquer the world. To you this is a prison. You,” he pointed to Udor, “are a content, fat, old man wanting to live out his days in peace. To you this is a haven.”
Neither Bastian nor Udor replied.
“You both have salient points,” Carrac continued. “But you need to realize your perceptions are only a product of your desires and experience. Had Udor been the one to leave the fog, he might feel differently about staying.”
Udor snorted in response.
“Bastian, did you always want to leave the fog?” Carrac asked.
“Yes.” It wasn’t entirely true. Until Tressa had been forcibly pulled away from him, he’d had no interest in leaving the village. Once he realized his life wasn’t his, he wanted nothing more than to start a new life somewhere else. But it overshadowed the bulk of his adult life and those opinions were the ones that mattered most.
“Both of you need to realize Hutton’s Bridge is at a crossroads. Neither of you can stop change, but you both have the ability to influence it. This is your mantle of power. Wield it wisely.”
Bastian felt the responsibility heavy on his shoulders as if he’d put on a heavy fur in the dead of winter. “I’m not the right person to represent any course of action. I simply wanted to speak my truth and let others decide for themselves. I can’t speak with authority. That was Connor’s job.”
“Sometimes leadership is thrust on those who are not ready for it. Few choose the responsibility.” Carrac glanced at Udor. “Some steal it for no reason than to advance their own desires.”
“I love this town,” Udor insisted.
Carrac held up a hand. “I know you do. However, that hasn’t stopped you from manipulating everyone into agreeing with your thoughts.”
“Everyone but Sophia.” Bastian interrupted them. “She was the only vocal detractor of yours.”
“And look at what she’d been hiding from us.” Udor shoved the book at Bastian.
He rested a hand on the old leather, stopping it from ramming into his chest. “We don’t know why she had the book and it’s too late to ask her.”
“She died too soon.” Udor grumbled, wringing his bear-like hands together.
“Too soon? Was there a choice?” Bastian stared the man down. “Do you have a story to tell us too?”
Udor stood up and stalked over to the window. “Of course not.”
Bastian leapt from the bench, grabbing Udor’s furry collar in his hand. “Do you have a story to tell us too?” He twisted his wrist, bringing Udor closer. Their noses were only inches apart, but this time Bastian had the upper hand.
“Now, now,” Carrac said, “Udor had nothing to do with Sophia’s death. ‘Twas a plague that killed her. It’s killing people in town. That is out of Udor’s hands.”
Bastian yanked Udor even closer. Their breath mingled. Udor’s moist and rank, Bastian’s hot and angry. “If I ever find out you did something to hurt Sophia, I will kill you.”
“You’re just a boy. You couldn’t kill a fly.” Udor’s words were brave, but the wavering in his tone told Bastian they were uncertain.
Bastian let him go. Udor shrugged and stood up straight.
“The blood on my blade is not my own.” Bastian unsheathed his sword. “Did you see it when I displayed it outside? Perhaps not. Maybe you’d like to examine it now?” He held it out for Udor to see, the tip only a hair’s breadth away from the delicate skin of Udor’s neck.
“Stop threatening me, boy. I have allies here who wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.”
Bastian’s upper lip curled and he bared his teeth. “After what I’ve seen, I fear no man. Let them try.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Ready for your first lesson?”
Leo bowed with a flourish. He was back to the way he’d been when Tressa first met him a few days ago. Bald, goatee, totally recognizable. Yet somehow he’d completely disguised himself the other night.
If he wouldn’t have called her chouchou, she wouldn’t have thought him the same man. So tall and proud now. Unlike when his back hunched over and his eyes glinted with terrible malice from within his hood.