from a nearby pile into a pyre. The villagers groaned but found their protests muted to a murmur by Malachai’s penetrating stare.
“You searched our village not two months ago, Captain,” Jack shouted. “Why have you returned so soon? We’ve done no wrong.”
“I beg to differ.” Malachai’s sinister drone climbed every spine present. A Wakeful produced a vial of emerald liquid from his belt’s pouch and presented it to his captain. Malachai’s armor screeched as he brandished the vial high overhead. Sensheeri fell silent, stiller than a graveyard past the witching hour. Malachai threw the vial with frigid indifference, shattering the glass over the pyre. A breath later, the pyre erupted into an eerie, smokeless green flame.
“Captain--” Jack said.
“People of Sensheeri. By decree of her Majesty, your Queen, we are charged with the destruction of your heresy.” Malachai’s powerful voice suffocated the crowd like an avalanche. “Bring to us all that inspires you that we may purge such... burdens.”
Lia cupped her hands over her ears. She tried to block out Malachai’s words, but the voice reverberated in her head. Her brow crinkled. “What do they mean ’heresy’?”
The veins in Cedrik’s thin neck bulged. “They mean to say ‘magic’ or anything to do with it.”
“But why? Why do they hate it so? Haven’t they seen the magic at Festival?”
“ Starshine, they have s een magic. Magic that stirs the heart and invigorates the spirit. This is precisely why she wants to destroy it,” Cedrik spat, unwilling to name the Liche Queen. “I hope you live to see a day when magic exists as it did during the time of the once ways.”
A handful of villagers slogged glumly to the pyre, carrying assorted blankets and trinkets. They stared at the frozen ground, fearful of Malachai’s condemnatory glare. He nodded to each, signaling that their offerings should be cast in. Purged . The emerald flame had yet to go hungry. A short woman with stringy hair gently tossed an earthen decanter. A simple flower was scrawled on its side. She sobbed while it was consumed by the green fire, erased from all but her memory. She toddled from the pyre, whimpering.
Lia wanted to run to Nell, to wrap her arms around her and squeeze. She recognized the decanter. She remembered the day that Nell’s daughter had painted the blue flower and the ceremony for her passing into the World After that winter. Several of the villagers remembered it from the summer fair where it had taken the blue ribbon that matched the proud flower.
Fists were balled and a few braver souls clenched farm tools tighter. The subtle uptick in tension did not go unnoticed. The Wakeful reached for weapons, but only Malachai drew his blade.
“Be at peace, for this is your queen’s command.”
Cedrik dropped his seeing stick and reached for Lia’s hands. “ Starshine, I need you to do your old pafaa a favor. I need you to remember this day. Remember that there comes a time when you must draw a line.” A tear traced one of the many lines on Cedrik’s face.
“Not my queen! Never my q ueen!” Cedrik released Lia’s hands and unknotted his blindfold, letting it fall away. He felt the sun on his eyes for the first time since his punishment. The warmth seeped into his wrinkled skin. It was time.
“ Pafaa , what’s happening? Lia’s eyes watered as confusion washed over. The crowd was fast parting at the front. The Wakeful cut a path to Cedrik, shoving people aside, old and young. Cedrik pinched Lia’s chin with a loving squeeze and kissed the top of her head.
“Someday you will. And on that day, you will make me the proudest pafaa in the world.” Cedrik pushed away his cloak, slinging free the old lute. Lia’s eyes widened. Music was banned under the law. The penalty for possessing an instrument, let alone playing one was...
After the fullest breath he had ever known was discharged through pursed lips, Cedrik strummed tired fingers over
“You searched our village not two months ago, Captain,” Jack shouted. “Why have you returned so soon? We’ve done no wrong.”
“I beg to differ.” Malachai’s sinister drone climbed every spine present. A Wakeful produced a vial of emerald liquid from his belt’s pouch and presented it to his captain. Malachai’s armor screeched as he brandished the vial high overhead. Sensheeri fell silent, stiller than a graveyard past the witching hour. Malachai threw the vial with frigid indifference, shattering the glass over the pyre. A breath later, the pyre erupted into an eerie, smokeless green flame.
“Captain--” Jack said.
“People of Sensheeri. By decree of her Majesty, your Queen, we are charged with the destruction of your heresy.” Malachai’s powerful voice suffocated the crowd like an avalanche. “Bring to us all that inspires you that we may purge such... burdens.”
Lia cupped her hands over her ears. She tried to block out Malachai’s words, but the voice reverberated in her head. Her brow crinkled. “What do they mean ’heresy’?”
The veins in Cedrik’s thin neck bulged. “They mean to say ‘magic’ or anything to do with it.”
“But why? Why do they hate it so? Haven’t they seen the magic at Festival?”
“ Starshine, they have s een magic. Magic that stirs the heart and invigorates the spirit. This is precisely why she wants to destroy it,” Cedrik spat, unwilling to name the Liche Queen. “I hope you live to see a day when magic exists as it did during the time of the once ways.”
A handful of villagers slogged glumly to the pyre, carrying assorted blankets and trinkets. They stared at the frozen ground, fearful of Malachai’s condemnatory glare. He nodded to each, signaling that their offerings should be cast in. Purged . The emerald flame had yet to go hungry. A short woman with stringy hair gently tossed an earthen decanter. A simple flower was scrawled on its side. She sobbed while it was consumed by the green fire, erased from all but her memory. She toddled from the pyre, whimpering.
Lia wanted to run to Nell, to wrap her arms around her and squeeze. She recognized the decanter. She remembered the day that Nell’s daughter had painted the blue flower and the ceremony for her passing into the World After that winter. Several of the villagers remembered it from the summer fair where it had taken the blue ribbon that matched the proud flower.
Fists were balled and a few braver souls clenched farm tools tighter. The subtle uptick in tension did not go unnoticed. The Wakeful reached for weapons, but only Malachai drew his blade.
“Be at peace, for this is your queen’s command.”
Cedrik dropped his seeing stick and reached for Lia’s hands. “ Starshine, I need you to do your old pafaa a favor. I need you to remember this day. Remember that there comes a time when you must draw a line.” A tear traced one of the many lines on Cedrik’s face.
“Not my queen! Never my q ueen!” Cedrik released Lia’s hands and unknotted his blindfold, letting it fall away. He felt the sun on his eyes for the first time since his punishment. The warmth seeped into his wrinkled skin. It was time.
“ Pafaa , what’s happening? Lia’s eyes watered as confusion washed over. The crowd was fast parting at the front. The Wakeful cut a path to Cedrik, shoving people aside, old and young. Cedrik pinched Lia’s chin with a loving squeeze and kissed the top of her head.
“Someday you will. And on that day, you will make me the proudest pafaa in the world.” Cedrik pushed away his cloak, slinging free the old lute. Lia’s eyes widened. Music was banned under the law. The penalty for possessing an instrument, let alone playing one was...
After the fullest breath he had ever known was discharged through pursed lips, Cedrik strummed tired fingers over
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