Kyre snorted and spat onto the ground. Connor knew it was because he wanted to spit, not because he was moved by any emotion.
“But now my father’s distracted,” Connor went on. “He spends all his time worried about Skye and that makes him feel guilty about me. So then he tries to make up for it by meddling in my business. But it doesn’t last. Eventually, he just winds up pining for Skye again. Then I have an episode, and he’s back worrying about me again. It’s like the seasons.” He barked a short laugh. “You can always count on the same thing to happen again and again.”
Kyre flexed his wings and there was a silence. The young man regarded his friend again. “My last episode… The one where they said lightning was all over me? Father tried to quell that talk but I heard it anyway. Do you think that storm caused me to have that episode?”
“No.”
“Do you think I caused the storm?”
“Yes.”
Connor’s heart pounded with exhilaration. Or fear. Or both.
“I think so too,” he said. “I made the storm. I made it.” He beamed and then scratched his head. “But what does that mean? Is it a god’s magic? Or from my mother?”
Kyre spat again. “I am what you would call in the Tradespeak a ‘foot soldier.’ It is not my place to know everything the fire and the stone tells the elders of my tribe.”
“Are we going to go to the Cloud Isles?”
“No. Humans are not permitted. No one is permitted but Vai’Ensai.”
“What are we supposed to do next?” Connor asked. Then he grinned. “I’m sure the Admiral and the High Reverent are dying to know.”
“I believe the time will come when you will know what to do.”
“I think so too. I have a feeling… Come on.” He stood up. “Let’s go the archery yard. My shooting needs work.”
Kyre didn’t agree or disagree; he didn’t try to reassure him or console him or encourage him or tell him what to do. He merely nodded and Connor’s smile split his face wide open as they walked in silence to the targets.
Celestine watched Archer watch his son from the window.
“What are they talking about?” Archer Crane demanded. “They spend all day every day together. For more than a week.”
“Whatever they speak of,” Celestine said, “I hope the Vai’Ensai is more forthcoming to Connor than he has been to us.”
Archer didn’t seem to have heard. “I talk to Connor all day long but he doesn’t listen. Not like that.”
Celestine smiled and joined her friend. “If you notice, Connor is doing all the talking and Kyre is doing all the listening.”
“That’s hardly the point.”
Celestine’s smile slipped. “He is going to leave us soon, Archer,” she told him quietly. “You must know this is true.”
“No, I don’t know that,” Archer said, finally turning away from the window. “We don’t know anything beyond that Kyre yammering about stones that can speak and how he is now Connor’s official—unofficial—body guard.” He tugged at his collar.
“There is some precedent here.”
“What precedent?”
“Selena Koren has been marked by the Two-Faced God and she’s guarded by a Vai’Ensai. She always maintained otherwise, but it’s clear to all that Ilior protects her.”
The horrified look on Archer’s face came and went as he dismissed the notion. “A coincidence. Connor has not been marked by any god. Selena has. She’s being punished. He is not. And we sent Selena away. We will not do the same to Connor. Kyre, however, is free to leave whenever he wishes,” he muttered under his breath.
Celestine sighed. “Connor is going to leave Lillomet.”
“Kyre is not taking Connor anywhere,” Archer snapped. “I won’t allow it.”
“I believe it will be Connor taking Kyre, not the other way around. Whatever Kyre’s role, it is second to Connor’s. The storm—”
“Was a common occurrence.”
“And the lightning that danced over your son’s body without burning him?”
“It was a figment of my imagination.”
“And mine? And the half dozen others who witnessed it before we arrived? To say nothing of Dorian, whose arm was singed.” Celestine moved around her desk and sat on the edge to look down at the admiral slumped in his chair. “Have you ever seen that before during one of his episodes?”
“Of course not,” Archer snapped. He cleared his throat and said in a quieter tone, “No, I have no idea what that could be. You’re the godly one, Cel. You tell me where it came from. Don’t Aluren weave light out of water?”
“Aye, but lightning is not in the purview of the Two-Faced God. Neither,” she added, “is the ability to call storms.”
“I’ll grant that the lightning was…strange, but whether Connor made that storm is still debatable.”
“There are other, lesser gods, of course,” Celestine said, “but I am not deeply schooled in their magic. Taliah would know better than I.” She softened her voice. “What about his mother? I know you don’t wish to speak of her, but we need to know. Connor needs to know.”
“The Deeps take me, Cel, I don’t even remember the name of the island where I met her. I was blinded by her and could hardly see anyone or anything else.” He smirked, thinking of Skye. “A habit of mine, apparently.”
“Any detail of the island might help.”
Archer’s gaze sought the window again, though from his chair he wouldn’t be able to see more than the cloud-filled sky. Celestine could see his thoughts go back twenty years.
“It’s in the Western Watch, this island, but remote. I believe we were stationed near Isle Juskara. I remember that desert land well enough. But the island where I met Elia was very small and very green. Gray stone and green forest, that’s what I remember. And there were pillars of that stone cut from the mountains and arranged in strange formations. Elia called them druid circles. Druids.” His dark eyes lit up with recognition. “That was their name for adherents. She said that the druids went to the circles to commune with nature; animals, wind, rain…” He looked at Celestine, his face very pale. “Elia…She never said she was one of these druids, but she seemed to know what she was talking about. Oh, gods, Cel.” He held his head in his hands.
“Don’t fret, Archer. Knowing is better than not knowing, even if the answer is unpleasant.”
“Says you,” Archer said without looking up.
Celestine smiled at her friend. She returned to her desk and withdrew a pile of scrolls from a drawer. “Would you please stop feeling sorry for yourself long enough to tell the page outside the door that I wish to see Taliah? I believe she is back now from her visit home.”
“Taliah?” Archer asked, rising. “What for?”
“Because she is well-versed in the deities and customs of other islands,” Celestine said. “Largely to prove that the Two-Faced God is superior in all ways, of course, but her knowledge will prove useful no matter her reasons for acquiring it.” She found the chart she was looking for and unrolled it over her desk as Archer returned from relaying the High Reverent’s orders to the page.
“I wasn’t aware that Taliah was so studied,” he said when he returned to his seat. “I had always thought her…”
Celestine gave him an arch look.