And when she looked to the dark night sky, she knew it was all for nothing.
“You asked for me?” Darius said, his heavy boots thudding atop the wooden planks.
Valessa nodded, not bothering to turn around. At her silence, Darius closed the distance and sat beside her. His feet dangled off the dock. Beside him he put his enormous sword, which glowed for a moment at his touch. Though its light still caused discomfort, it did not burn her.
“Well,” Darius said when she didn’t speak. “I’m here. Care to talk?”
“I’ve prayed to Karak,” she said, blurting out the words. “And I’ve prayed to Ashhur. Neither hear me. I’m lost to them both now, aren’t I? A blasphemy against the two gods, that is what I am. That is what you created.”
“You’re a fool if you think I created you, Valessa. I’d give that credit to your parents.”
She glanced at him, saw that he was smiling. She rolled her eyes.
“Wipe the smile from your face. That wasn’t particularly funny.”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“To each his own. Or her, I suppose. If you feel abandoned now, I assure you, it’s a fairly normal feeling. As a gray sister you were used to Karak’s constant presence, for he is a jealous god, and protective of his powerful servants. But most of the farmers and laymen I preach to hear only silence whey they pray, yet still they believe their prayers heard, and often answered.”
“Then they’re dogs used to scraps that fall off the table. I was better. So were you. Or are you so much better now?”
Darius sighed.
“I’d like to think so. I’m not dead, at least, and I sent Cyric running the last time we met. Can’t do much better than that.”
“You could have killed him,” Valessa said, staring at the water.
Beside her, she heard Darius shift uncomfortably.
“What is it you see?” he asked her. “Something more than this weighs on you. Tell me what it is.”
Valessa looked up to the sky. High above, amid the rest of the stars, she saw two separate from the others. One was a red star, still showing her where Darius might be. It seemed a mockery now, a call to kill a man she had no desire anymore to kill. As if killing him would change anything. The other, like a scar in the sky, was different. It gave no color, only absorbed it all in. That black star was further away, and over the past hours, it’d been steadily moving, like a comet.
“Cyric’s crossed the Gihon,” she said. “Whatever his delay, it’s over now. We need to flee south as soon as possible, before he can reach us.”
“Flee?” asked Darius. “Wait a moment now. In case you haven’t been paying attention, I kicked his ass at Willshire. I don’t see any reason why that might change now.”
“Do not play pretend, not with me,” Valessa said, feeling her temper flare. “I can see the fear of him deep in your heart, no different than mine. He’ll be stronger now, more furious. The time in the wild has done something to him. The black star has grown larger. I can only assume it grows with his power.”
“A pleasant thought,” Darius said. “But that doesn’t mean we should run. Don’t you still desire to kill him? That’s why you came to me, wasn’t it?”
At the time she thought it was. Staring at the black star, she once decided the mad priest’s murder was her purpose, and part of her still believed it. But why had she gone to Darius? Was it because she thought him the only one who could stop Cyric? Or was it because she’d desperately needed some sort of order, some sense of worth, after her near-death and banishment at Cyric’s hands?
“Why did he delay?” she finally asked. “Why did Cyric remain in the Wedge instead of coming back to the tower with Lilah and his men? He wanted something there, and at last he’s found it.”
“Perhaps he needed some solitude, maybe a chance to meditate after I humiliated him and his claims at being a god.”
Valessa shook her head.
“No, that’s not him. Cyric would never have the humility for such a course of action.”
Darius shrugged.
“Well, what else is there but orcs, goblins, and wolf-men beyond the river?”
“All that once served Karak.”
She saw a flash of recognition cross Darius’s face, and then he immediately quashed it.
“No,” he said. “No, that’s not right. That’s not right at all. If he rallied an army of orcs, or wolf-men, or even those strange hyena creatures…”
“There’s no way to know,” Valessa said. “Not until it’s too late. Cyric wants to conquer all of the North, perhaps all of Dezrel, to force his faith upon every last man, woman, and child. We can’t stop him, not with the few we have. We must flee south until we have a proper army.”