Chapter 46: Emberwings

I made my way down from the church and across the town square, my gait awkward and stilted.

Walking had never required this much thought before.

I tried not to think about it.

That only made me think about it harder.

Ezkyrath had spent the morning drilling Lucarion in what she called a lord’s walk. My feet had to land with purpose. My shoulders had to remain level. My head could turn, but my body was not supposed to follow unless I intended to give someone my full attention.

According to her, a lord never hurried, wandered, shuffled, or stepped aside without first deciding what the movement communicated.

Now I couldn’t remember how to walk normally.

It didn’t help that I was being stared at.

The general store faced the square, its front doors propped open beneath a wide cloth awning that had not been there before the knights arrived. Usually, the space outside was crowded with barrels, delivery crates, and baskets. Several tables now occupied the space beneath the awning, and knights occupied nearly every one.

Some sat with their helmets and gauntlets piled beside their cups. Others leaned against the front wall, boots planted among the crates. Two stood beside the awning posts with cups in hand, talking over everyone else.

A few of the tables had spread beyond the shade. Chairs stuck out into the road, forcing anyone crossing the square to go around them.

There were villagers among them, but not many.

I had noticed that since Norman confronted the knight. The Grovekeepers and the crown’s men used the same roads and entered the same buildings when they had to, but neither group stayed close to the other longer than necessary.

The knights had nowhere else to go.

Norman had forbidden them from entering the forest without an escort, and the Grovekeepers didn’t seem keen on escorting them. They filled the square, the church, the training grounds, and now the general store.

I gave them a wide berth anyway.

Talla said they had taken over the store because Tillshade did not have a pub. Apparently, knights required a special building to sit around and drink properly.

I wasn’t sure what sort of drinks a pub served, but one of the men beneath the awning raised his cup and complained loudly enough for half the square to hear.

“I swear, if I have to drink another cup of this berry wine, I’m going to start chewing my own boot. Don’t they have anything harder?”

The knight across from him laughed. “This is the hard wine.”

I glanced at the dark liquid in his cup as I passed.

What would make a liquid hard?

Would they have to bite pieces off it? Maybe it came frozen on a stick or was thick enough to chew.

Of course, the drinks weren’t the only thing they talked about.

The knight sitting closest to the road turned in his chair as I approached. I was still several arm lengths away, well beyond any reasonable grabbing distance, but my shoulders tightened anyway.

“Isn’t that the girl?”

The man across from him glanced over the rim of his cup.

“She’s the reason we’re stuck in this dumb town.”

“Nah,” someone called from near the store entrance, his tone plainly cruel. “That’s Sir Loren’s fault.”

A few men laughed.

I kept walking.

Ezkyrath’s instructions echoed through my mind.

Do not hurry. A lord does not hurry.

But Olive was not a lord.

Olive could hurry as much as I wanted.

I tried.

My foot landed too far ahead of me, my other leg clipped my heel, and I had to throw both arms out to keep from falling.

More laughter came from beneath the awning.

“Little knight-slayer over there.”

“The one who humiliated Loren?”

A knight leaning against one of the posts snorted into his cup.

“The princess’s pet doesn’t need any help with that.”

Someone at the table muttered, “Keep your voice down.”

“He isn’t here.”

“That has never stopped a dog from hearing its name.”

The laughter followed me toward the side of the building.

I reached the narrow wooden stairs running up the side of the general store. Jorren, Dain, and Talla were crowded around the bottom, trying to maneuver a juice cask onto the first step.

Jorren had both hands beneath it. Talla gripped the rim. Dain stood behind them, offering instructions while touching almost none of the weight.

My eyes met Jorren’s, but he turned his head as if he hadn’t spotted me.

“Lift your side.”

“I am.”

Talla looked past the cask and spotted me.

“Olive, grab the chairs, please.”

I looked at the cask.

Then at the chairs resting beside the stairs.

“Okay!”

The stairs were barely wide enough for one person. The chair legs caught against the railing halfway up, and I had to tilt it over my head. Below me, Dain yelped as the cask shifted.

“Stop pushing!”

“I thought we were lifting.”

Their arguing mixed with the knights’ voices below and the brighter chatter drifting from the roof. By the time I reached the top, the laughter beneath the awning sounded farther away.

The roof was broad and mostly flat, sloping only slightly toward the back of the store. A wooden railing ran around its edge, high enough that even Mira would have to make a determined effort to fall over it.

I set to work helping the others prepare the space.

By the end, crates had been turned onto their sides to serve as small tables. Mismatched chairs formed a loose half-circle facing west, toward the forest. Some had cushions tied to their seats. Others had folded blankets thrown across them for whoever reached them first.

Bowls of berries and little pastries crowded one of the crates. Empty cups waited beside the space prepared for the juice cask.

Mira was finishing decorating.

Bright strips of cloth fluttered from the railing. Some were proper ribbons, narrow and even, but most were scraps from the tailor shop. I recognized pieces from dresses and tunics I had seen being repaired. One strip still had half a flower embroidered along its edge, the rest of the petals cut away with whatever garment it had come from.

Mira stood on the tips of her toes, stretching to loop a yellow strip around one of the taller posts. Three pins were held between her lips.

“You missed a spot,” Dain called as he reached the top of the stairs with the last chair.

Mira turned slowly.

“I know,” she said around the pins.

Dain pointed to a bare section of railing. “That one too.”

She reached for another pin.

Dain wisely retreated behind the cask.

Ours was not the only rooftop gathering.

Families occupied the roofs around the square, sitting on blankets or rows of stools. Grovekeepers lounged near chimneys and railings with cups in their hands. Food baskets traveled from one roof to another on ropes.

Tillshade did not have a bard, but that wouldn’t stop us. Someone had brought a drum, and a man across the square was attempting to play a flute. He missed several notes in a row, stopped, and started again from the beginning.

Nobody seemed to care. A few villagers sang along, each choosing a different version of the tune.

From the ground, the knights’ shadows had stretched across the square, making it seem as though they occupied every inch of Tillshade.

From the roof, I could see the truth.

They were clumped beneath the general store’s awning, crowded into the open space between buildings. Villagers watched from every surrounding roof. Grovekeepers sat above the roads leading out of the square, talking and drinking as though they had not noticed the knights below.

The knights had looked like a pack closing around me.

From up here, they were the small pack trapped in the clearing.

“Olive.”

I turned.

Emma had changed out of her ceremonial robes, but her white tunic still had gold trim along the collar and cuffs. She held two cups of juice in her hands.

She lifted one toward me.

I took it gingerly, my fingers barely grazing her thumb.

“Thanks,” I muttered, then hastily looked anywhere but at her.

Jorren was turning away from me, carrying two cups as well. He walked over to Mira and gave one to her.

I looked at Emma again while taking a drink. I didn’t really know what to talk about with her in this setting. Normally, we had just been talking about religion and demons. I’d been trying to get information from her about what she said in the forest, and I thought she understood that, but with the knights everywhere, we couldn’t exactly talk freely.

Emma turned toward the forest.

“Could you explain more about these Emberwings?”

I took another sip, as my throat was very dry all of a sudden.

I cleared my throat.

“Forests need to be sort of renewed every few years, as old trees, diseases, and even dead animals can remain, sort of taking up space. That happens especially often here because so many of our plants and creatures came from other parts of the continent. Highbough doesn’t have a proper natural cycle.”

Emma looked toward the brown patches.

“And the Emberwings solve this how?”

“Well, normal forests typically deal with this with fire.”

Her head turned back toward me.

“You’re going to set the forest on fire?” Her face clearly showed concern.

“Not all of it.”

She continued staring at me.

I pointed towards the forest, to a patch of dead trees and overgrowth.

“We set up a bonfire now, before the dry season. That way, the rest of the forest doesn’t catch on fire.”

That was the simple version. My father would have spent an hour explaining moisture, root depth, wind direction, the age of the brush, and how much ash each part of the forest needed.

I could have explained all of it.

I quite liked Emma asking me questions, and too detailed a answer tended to get people to stop asking questions.

“The fires create the Emberwings,” I continued.

Emma’s concern shifted into interest.

I am so glad Ezkyrath taught me about faces.

“It makes them?”

“They’re insects. Sort of. Whenever we light a large enough fire, they appear. We assume they lay eggs somewhere, but nobody has ever found one.”

“Sort of insects?”

Her head tilted to the side, and my eyes were drawn to her collarbone.

“Their bodies are made of fire, so they’re mostly just wings.”

Emma smiled.

I pointed at her with my cup.

“They then fly around consuming everything unhealthy or dead.”

She looked toward the trees again.

Emma considered that. A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

“So you do let them set the forest on fire.”

I smiled into my cup.

“We don’t let them do anything. We just encourage them to start while we still have control.”

Emma watched the distant smoke.

“It still sounds dangerous.”

“It is,” I said before continuing. “If the Emberwings didn’t, the dead growth would keep building until lightning started a fire we couldn’t guide. This way, the forest loses what it doesn’t need anymore.”

“Most useful things in the forest are dangerous if you treat them stupidly,” I said. “Water, fire, mushrooms, large frogs.”

She bumped my shoulder.

“Shepherd Maws and Vulpiquills.”

“Us,” I said quietly.

Mira called Emma over to show her the outfit she had made.

“Olive, get over here,” she said, waving me over.

I walked across the roof, ready to praise Mira for her hard work, but she was the one who wanted to do the praising.

“I made Olive’s clothes too! Look how pretty she looks. Olive, turn around. She makes a great model.”

I looked down at myself.

The overalls were made from soft forest-green fabric. The straps crossed over a pale cream shirt and fastened at my chest with polished wooden buttons.

Mira had added the vines after meeting my pet Guttervine, curling them around the pockets and cuffs with tiny yellow flowers between the leaves. The stitching was small enough that I barely noticed it until I looked closely, but once I did, the vines seemed to curl around the fabric whenever I moved.

She had even added extra pockets along the sides.

Those were my favorite part.

I turned slowly, mostly because Mira was staring at me and would complain if I didn’t.

Emma beamed as they both ignored how embarrassed I was.

“She does look adorable!”

“maybe I could make one for you!”

“that would be amazing, but I wouldn’t want to give you to much work.”

“oh! That’s no worry, I’ve practically made Olive’s entire wardrobe” she puffed her chest out. “and you’ve seen how pretty she looks”

Luckily for me Reed decided at that moment to start tapping two wooden spoons against the side of a crate, trying to follow the music drifting from a neighboring roof. Olivander joined him by drumming his fingers against the juice cask.

I started clapping along and Mira joined me, Talla began singing along.

The rest of us joined wherever we knew the words. Emma listened through the first verse, then began laughing.

I laughed with her. Before joining in the song.

None of us sounded particularly good.

Nobody cared.

Dain passed the pastries around while Reed continued playing his spoons.

For a while, it was easy to forget the knights below us.

Talla helped Emma learn the parts of the song she had missed. Olivander began adding his own verses whenever he forgot the real ones.

Even Jorren eventually joined in.

When the song ended, I moved toward the chairs facing the forest.

I looked toward the empty chair next to mine, unsure whether inviting her would make it seem as though I had planned for us to sit together.

Before I decided what to say, Emma sat down.

I tried not to look too pleased.

The sun had lowered toward the forest, turning the sky orange where it met the canopy. From the roof, we could see beyond the outer houses and across the western edge of Highbough.

Olivander passed behind our chairs with the pastry basket balanced against his hip. He stopped between us and lowered it within reach.

“you can’t just walk away without taking some with you.” he said warmly

Emma looked over the different fillings. I reached for one as she seemed was hesitating to decide, but she reached as soon as I did and our fingers bumped above the basket. I pulled mine back, letting her choose first.

Olivander looked between us. He wasn’t smiling but his eyes were.

I took the closest pastry and bit into it.

The pastry was filled with mashed berries and sugarscales.

Mira called to Emma from beside the railing, holding up one of the brightly colored cloth scraps. It was sun yellow, “this would be a great color for you.” she shouted.

Emma turned away from me to looked, I couldn’t see Emma’s face but she nodded in agreement.

Mira beamed and returned to securing a loose strip before the breeze could pull it free. Olivander continued around the half-circle, passing the basket to Dain and Talla.

Emma took a bite of her pastry and turned back toward the trees.

Out of habit, I reached toward Lucarion.

He was fast asleep on his bed. His arms felt like they had been filled with wet sand.

Raven had spent another day teaching me stances, but this time he had me hold a sword and shield while doing it.

At first, the sword had felt right. The shield felt uncomfortable. Grovekeepers didn’t use shields, so it wasn’t something I could easily visualize, and I couldn’t bring myself to imagine Lucarion as a knight, not anymore.

By the end, both arms had been trembling so badly that I could barely keep the sword pointed forward. The shield had felt heavier every minute, dragging against my shoulder until even holding it upright became its own battle.

Lucarion had fallen asleep almost as soon as Raven dismissed him.

Now there was nothing from him beyond the faint pressure of the bed beneath his body and the distant rhythm of his breathing.

It felt strange.

When this had first started, I had wanted one of us asleep whenever possible. Having both bodies awake meant too many sounds, too many sensations, and too much effort spent deciding which eyes to look through. Lucarion sleeping had once felt like relief. It gave me space to be only Olive again.

It didn’t anymore.

“Olive?”

I looked up.

Emma was watching me.

“Are you all right?” she had a slight frown on her eyebrows, concern?

“Yeah.”

My answer came too quickly.

I loosened my grip on the cup.

Emma smiled and turned back toward the forest.

I did the same, though I reached for Lucarion once more.

Still asleep.

The musicians tried another song. The flute began too early. The drum joined too late, and the singers chose a third rhythm entirely.

Someone on the next roof shouted for them to start over.

***

Olivander had claimed the place beside the juice cask, filling cups whenever someone held one out. Reed stood beside him, passing them along.

Reed gave a tremendous bow. “Lady Talla, may I interest you in a refreshment?”

Talla smirked. “Why, yes. Perhaps I should indulge.”

Reed raised his own cup to Mira. “And thank you to our glorious decorator for setting the mood.”

Mira gave a curtsy back, which was quite impressive given she was holding a cup.

Dain reached for the next cup before Reed could present it.

Reed quickly pivoted toward Olivander. “And will the future Hero be indulging as well?” he asked, his tone light.

Olivander laughed heartily.

“THE FUTURE HERO SHALL INDULGE!” he belted, pushing his chest out in faux arrogance.

I joined them beside the crates, with Emma close behind me. Everyone shifted without being asked, opening space for us among the cushions and remaining food.

“So, when Olivander becomes the Hero, which one of us gets to carry all his things?” I teased.

“I’ll carry my own things,” Olivander said.

“Heroes have always had squires,” Talla added sincerely. “They usually pick a young prince to establish better relations. It’s an honor.”

Dain jumped onto the crate.

“When I’m the Hero!” he announced before pointing at me. “You can carry my things.”

“Nah, Jorren could be your squire.” I threw him a look.

Jorren took a slow drink. “I would prefer not to be mentioned in the story of Dain’s heroism.”

Everyone laughed. Even Emma.

“What about you?” Mira asked Emma. “Would you want to be chosen?”

Emma lowered her cup. “I’ve always wanted to be a cleric.”

“Seems pretty boring to be stuck giving sermons all day,” Reed said.

“I said cleric, not priest!”

“What does a cleric do?” Mira asked.

But it was Talla who answered.

“The clerics are a military arm of the Church.” She said miming pulling out a fake sword “They help the Hero attack the demons, making up the bulk of the army.”

Emma looked down into her juice, but she was smiling.

“I suppose that’s partly true, but they do so much more than that.”

She sat down on a blanket.

“Clerics are busy all the time. They protect the will of Lumisiel, help cities with dungeon breaks, and hunt down monsters and aberrations that are harming towns,” she said, staring at something that wasn’t there with a dreamy expression.

“Shouldn’t you aim to become an inquisitor if aberrations are your goal?” Reed asked.

Inquisitors are terrifying. Why would anyone want to be one of those?

“Inquisitors only deal with important events, not even most aberrations. Most of their time is just spent training.”

I held in a sigh of relief. I didn’t know what I would do if Emma became an inquisitor.

Talla sat next to her and stretched her legs out across the blanket.

“Well, I’m going to be a Godsworn. It’s the best chance of marrying the Hero.”

Please don’t get her started!

“You want to marry the Hero?” Emma asked innocently.

“Yes! Every Hero has done wonders for society. Hero Alexander taught us about hygiene, and Hero Gabriel created our sewage system. Before him, we didn’t even have bathrooms!”

“Eww!” Mira and I shouted.

Reed turned the spoon toward Dain. “Well, we are all saying what we want.”

Dain sat straighter.

“I guess, if I can’t be the Hero, then I want to be the one who makes their gear.” His cheeks reddened slightly. “having a Hero wield a sword I made would be…”

“I can make their clothes!” Mira interjected bouncing of her seat.

Everyone spoke over one another after that, arguing about what weapons they would carry, what spells they might cast, and which of us would look best wearing a Hero’s cloak.

Even Emma joined in, though she continued insisting she only wanted to become a cleric.

I listened more than I spoke.

They were wondering whether Lumisiel might choose them.

I already knew she had chosen me.

I was going to become more than a Hero. I was Lumisiel’s next answer.

Becoming Godsworn was only the beginning.