Perhaps it could’ve been that simple when he first landed. Not now, after he’d started laying roots.
“I won’t lie to you, Sylina,” the Sightmother said quietly. “This will be a dangerous and unpleasant task.”
“All tasks are dangerous and unpleasant.”
At least this one meant something.
She nodded, understanding me exactly.
“Go now,” she said. “Travel through the pools. He moves to the southwest tonight.”
I didn’t argue. I didn’t ask if I could say goodbye. The threads connected us all, anyway.
I bowed my head. “Thank you, Sightmother.”
I started back to the Keep. I’d gather my things and go within an hour.
The Sightmother did not follow me.
“May she weave in your favor,” she called after me, her voice lost in the ocean wind.
4
I used to paint, sometimes.
When I came to the Salt Keep, I’d had a few of my paintings with me—little doodles I’d done in my notebook to pass the time. I did one that night, of the sea and the cliffs, the sight so beautiful I couldn’t resist capturing it however my little hands could.
The Sightmother had found it the next day, as the Sisters went through my belongings before I began my tests. She had held that notebook for a long time, staring down at the paper with her blindfolded gaze.
“What is this?” she asked me.
“It’s the ocean,” I said.
“No,” she said. “It is paper.”
Her magic shredded the parchment in seconds. I hadn’t known then that the sight of those shards of paper swept away into the ocean was one of the last things I would see with my eyes alone. Maybe that was why I still dreamed of it, sometimes—those painted scraps of color, fluttering away like butterfly wings, so easily consumed by the world.
Nothing but paper, just like the Sightmother had said.
I came out of the water gasping. The rush of cold air was a slap across the face, making what was already disorienting a shock to all senses at once.
Some Sisters claimed that they didn’t mind the sensation, but I was sure they had to be lying. After fifteen years of traveling through the pools, it still never got any less nauseating. Or maybe I just hated the way that it yanked me into my past in the moments between threads.
I took a moment to right myself against the rocks. I dragged my fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my face. I rose on shaky legs and tried to take stock of my senses.
It was hard, because there were so many of them.
Crowds could be difficult for those of the Arachessen. With eyes, one could only take in so much information at once. Without them, we had no such limitation. We felt everything at the same time. And here, it was overwhelming.
The Sightmother’s instruction had been remarkably accurate. I had arrived not far from their encampment. I was several miles north of their last target, Vaprus. Since much of Glaea’s land was harsh and the Pythora King’s warlords were more than happy to hoard resources for themselves, civilization tended to cluster in city-states with long stretches of empty wastelands between them. In the south, that land consisted of rocky, barren plains.
I followed the sensation of the crowd. I crept to the edge of the rocks, where cliffs began to give way to flat earth.
Just beyond the rugged stone, the conqueror’s encampment spread out before me.
There were so many of them that for a moment, the sudden existence of so many auras overwhelmed me. How many—hundreds, thousands? Thousands, I settled on. Every one of them vampires. They felt different than humans, like a chord struck at a different tone, a minor note against a major, every shade of color just a little off.
Immediately, I knew the encampment was extensive. I reached through the threads to examine it and found tents that were elaborate and firmly rooted to the ground, meal carts that had been spread out, soldiers that appeared to be quite content to stay where they were. Their exhaustion was obvious, even from this distance, as they continued to erect tents at the edges of the camp.
They’d only just gotten here. And it seemed like they intended to stay, at least for a few days. Why they would do so here instead of remaining in whatever city they had last taken over was beyond me, but I was grateful for the time. I needed to find this seer, remove them, and insert myself.
I crept down closer to the encampment, remaining in the rocks for cover. Vampires had fantastic eyesight and even better senses of smell, so I was careful to stay far enough to avoid either my movements or my scent giving me away. Still, I managed to get close enough to map out the boundaries of the camp.