I turn away from him. I don’t want him to see my face. It would feel too much like opening my chest and letting him look at my heart. My hand slips into my pocket and clutches the wooden dove I always carry with me—a new one that he made just after Raimo healed his broken arm . . . and right before he left for the outlands.
Raimo lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’re wasting your energy. Oskar is big and strong and well able to protect himself, even without magic. He’s known in the outlands—and respected by wielders and nonwielders alike. Truly, you couldn’t have a better recruiter for the magical branch of this army you’re raising.”
“How many do we have so far?”
“Oskar didn’t say. But he seems determined to dredge up anyone who can do so much as light a candle or freeze a puddle, so long as they do it with magic and are willing to train and work together.”
“It’s not enough, Raimo.”
He grips his walking stick a little tighter. “We won’t be relying on wielders alone. You’re doing good work, Elli.” He cackles. “I daresay those councilmen were shocked when you walked into that first meeting.”
I smile in spite of myself. Their wide eyes and slack jaws were comical. But their fear of my power made them listen. The Kupari have grown dependent on magic, and Sig was right—they exchanged freedom and responsibility for security. The first thing I told them was that we would have no magical warmth this winter, but the temple food stores would be distributed to the people. I explained that we needed to focus our attention on the Soturi and face them as a people. Not everyone is pleased. I’m sure I have enemies. I’ve more or less told them that the temple will provide—but now it’s time for everyone to stand up. Now we need every arm and every mind. We have magic, but it’s not all we are. It can’t be, because the copper that created us has been pulled from the earth, drained like the acolytes’ blood. Once it’s gone, our power might leave us too.
Many have stepped forward to offer themselves. “We have five hundred men in our nonmagical forces so far, and the smiths believe they can forge weapons for up to a thousand before the thaw. We have another three hundred women and men who have volunteered as archers. A few of the hunters are working as bowyers, and Topias thinks we’ll have enough for every recruit. But—”
“Will our soldiers even know what to do with them?” Raimo asks, completing my thought. In comparison with the Soturi horde, our forces are paltry and ill-prepared. Yes, Sofia decimated the Soturi navy, but as one of the cave dwellers pointed out, that was only part of their might. We’re so vulnerable, but we have one thing they don’t. When the time comes, I’ll face the enemy at the front with our army, alongside Oskar and his wielders.
I’ll be his shield. He’ll be my sword.
But we needed Sig, the Fire Suurin. We needed the cuff of Astia. We need a Valtia. We need a well-trained army. The odds rise high, looming over me like a mighty wave about to break.
I lift my head and straighten my shoulders. “Thank you, Raimo.”
His gnarled fingers close over my upper arm. “I’ll be on the platform at the coronation. It’s going to be fine. No one will know. And you won’t be alone.”
His shuffling footsteps signal his exit. “Then why do I feel that way?” I whisper. I walk over to the copper mirror and sink into the chair. I stare at my reflection, then close my eyes. You were born for this, Mim whispers as a lump forms in my throat. I can almost feel her soft hands on my shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Mim,” I whisper. “I’ll never forgive myself for leaving you behind.”
When I open my eyes, I swear I see her shadow in the mirror, brown curls, soft smile. I’m proud to serve you. Elli, you will always be my queen.
“You’re in my heart,” I say in a choked voice. “And you’ll always be safe there.”
“What’s that?” Helka asks as she bustles into the room, her grayish-blond hair braided and coiled at the base of her neck.
“Nothing.” I smooth my hands over my face and blink away unshed tears. “I’m ready.”
She begins to brush and braid my hair, and I sit up straight and still. I’ve come to believe that the ceremonial makeup was just another way for the elders to silence the Valtia, to imprison her in a mask of beauty, but the changes I plan must come little by little. Today I will wear it, because the Kupari are just learning how to stand on their feet and test their own power, and they need a symbol to give them confidence until they have enough of their own.
For as long as they need me, that’s what I’ll be.