Troy Denning - The Sentinel

Malik accepted the weapon back and saw that the blade had turned as black as Cyric’s heart. “Indeed,” he said. “I shall cherish it.”

Don’t cherish it, Malik , Cyric said. Use it .

After three hours of work, the raft was coming along even better than Arietta had expected. Malik had floated ashore on a huge dead tree, which Kleef had hacked into a pair of pontoons that would provide enough buoyancy to keep them above water. Joelle was kneeling next to the raft, lashing the driftwood deck in place. Kleef was down at the river’s edge, using his dagger to put the final touches on a pair of oars. Arietta was atop the deck, peering down through a gap between logs as she tried to slide an oarlock post into place between two crossbars below.

For the fifth time in as many minutes, the bottom of the post missed the crossbars and dropped into the sand. Arietta sighed, then rose and turned toward a nearby tree, where Malik sat with his eyes closed and his back against the trunk. His sore arm was tucked back into its sling, but the elbow was no longer swollen, and twice Arietta had seen him use that hand to scratch his nose.

“Malik,” she said. “Didn’t you hear me ask for help?”

Malik opened a single eye. “And did you hear me agree?” He raised his sling. “I need to rest my elbow.”

“Perhaps you can rest it on the river.” Arietta had to fight to keep a civil tongue. “After the raft is built.”

Malik shook his head. “There’s no need for that. The satyr said we’d be safe on this island until the raft is built. Only a fool would rush to finish it.”

Arietta sighed in exasperation and started to pull the oarlock post back up-then saw Joelle rise and peer across the raft at Malik.

“Don’t be such a dolt, Malik,” the heartwarder said. “Theamont doesn’t know the Shadovar like we do.”

“And he doesn’t know about Kleef’s dreams,” Arietta added. Knowing how badly Kleef felt about revealing the Eye’s location to the enemy, she kept her voice low so it wouldn’t carry to the river’s edge. “If Yder can use them to discover the Eye’s hiding place, he can use them to find us.”

“Then we must use his dreams to draw the Shadovar off,” Malik said. “Take the oaf on the raft with you, and leave Joelle and me here to rest.”

“And you don’t think Yder would see where they left us in Kleef’s dreams?” Joelle asked. “You would only divide our strength, and the Shadovar would find us anyway.”

Malik thought for a moment, then conceded the point with a nod. “If the oaf has been tricked once, he will be tricked again.” He shot a spiteful glance in Arietta’s direction. “Do you see what you have done? Had you taken the oaf back to Marsember as I begged, the Shadovar would still be looking for us on the Lake of Dragons.”

Joelle’s brow shot up. “As you begged , Malik?” she asked. “You tried to make them leave-behind my back?”

“What else was I to do?” Malik answered. “You were convinced Sune had sent them to us-and if that is true, she did us no favors. Kleef is an oaf who cannot keep his own dreams to himself, and Arietta is a silly maiden who is no more a Chosen of Siamorphe than the orcs who have been chasing us.”

Too shocked to be angry, Arietta let her jaw fall. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because it is true,” Malik said, finally rising. “Joelle can charm with a smile and heal with a touch. I can always sense a lie and hide from those who wish me harm. Kleef can fight like a giant and tell when there are Shadovar near. What blessing has your god granted you?”

“Blessing?” Arietta could sense a trap in the question, but she couldn’t see its nature-or figure out what Malik hoped to accomplish. “Honestly, I give more thought to what I owe Siamorphe than what she owes me. I should think it’s the same with all Chosen.”

“Which only proves you understand nothing of being one,” Malik replied. “The gods chose us because we are useful to them, not because they wish to reward our devotion.”

“Malik, that’s enough.” Joelle’s tone was protective. “You know as well as I do that each god chooses differently.”

“But always for the same purpose-to serve them.” Malik continued to glare at Arietta. “And to serve them well, Chosen must have power. What power do you have, Arietta?”

More troubled by Joelle’s attempt to shield her than by Malik’s words themselves, Arietta glanced over at her friend and saw sympathy in her eyes. Not anger or doubt, but sympathy-as though she believed there was reason for Malik’s words to trouble her.

Arietta lifted her chin and turned to Malik. “You know very well what my blessing is,” she said. “Leadership. Perhaps you haven’t noticed because you’re busy hiding when a fight breaks out, but soldiers stand firm when I’m there. That was true back in Marsember, when I led my father’s men-at-arms onto Deepwater Bridge. It was true when Kleef’s watchmen volunteered to sail after the Shadovar with us. And it was true every time I helped Faroz’s caravan guards turn back an orc raid.”

Malik only smirked. “Are you such a ninny that you failed to notice who else was there?” He shot a defiant glance at Joelle, almost daring her to interrupt, then said, “Kleef. He is the one who has been inspiring the soldiers. You’ve only been one of the fools standing at his side, looking at his shadow and thinking it belongs to you.”

The smugness in Malik’s voice made Arietta’s blood boil, but her discourse tutor had taught her to always question her anger-that it was often a mask that disguised something she didn’t wish to face. She paused and thought back to all of the battles she had fought, and-with an growing sense of embarrassment-she realized that Malik was right. Kleef had always been there, too.

And most of the time, he had been the one leading the fight.

Finally, Arietta nodded. “You make a good point about Kleef,” she said, trying not to sound resentful. “It may be that the soldiers draw their inspiration from him.”

“Or from both of you,” Joelle said, sounding more supportive than convinced. “Why not? A woman charging into battle has a way of making men ignore their own fears.”

Arietta flashed a grateful smile. “Perhaps,” she said. “But Malik is right. It was foolish of me to assume the soldiers were responding to me, when Kleef has always been the one leading the fight.”

“It was?” Malik looked distressed rather than surprised. “And you are not troubled that you’ve been such a fool?”

“I’m a bit embarrassed, naturally,” Arietta admitted. “Perhaps inspiring soldiers isn’t one of my Chosen powers, after all. But better to have my error corrected than have my friends laughing at it behind my back.”

“No one was laughing,” Joelle said. “Because it doesn’t matter. You’re honest, devoted, and courageous. Those are the things that make you a worthy companion.”

As kind as they were, Joelle’s words hit Arietta like a kick to the stomach. She was trying to reassure Arietta about more than a mistaken assumption about her powers. Joelle was trying to tell her that she didn’t need powers-that she still mattered without any.

“You think Malik’s right, don’t you?” Arietta asked. “You think that I don’t have any other powers-that I’m not Chosen at all.”

“What I think is that we wouldn’t have made it this far without you,” Joelle said. She smiled, and that almost reversed the growing hollow in Arietta’s stomach-almost. “Besides, it’s not for me-or Malik-to say who Siamorphe’s Chosen are.”

“But we all know Siamorphe is the goddess of noble rule,” Malik said quickly. “So, would not her true Chosen be able to command obedience?”