The hardest part about returning to Castle Neart, however, is finding the young girls who have been imprisoned in the dungeon cells. Most are timid mice, shying away from our lanterns. It takes soft words and patience to coax them from the pit of the castle. The king orders the suites to be set up as additional healing rooms for the girls who have suffered from exposure and lack of food. Leif helps me gather blankets and clothing and hot meals. The work is humbling to me, but more so, it’s good for him. Every girl he helps lifts his spirit a little more.
The work is endless. So much so that Finn and Lirra’s arrival at Castle Neart three weeks after I left Britta comes as a shock.
“They’ve come to help return all the Channeler girls to their homes,” King Aodren explains inside his private study. He stands beside his absurdly large desk. His father must’ve had a thing for flashy furniture. “You are more familiar with Shaerdan than any of my men. I am not asking that you personally escort all the girls safely home, but I do need you to organize their return.”
I cross my arms, hiding the fists of my hands under my biceps, calculating how long I’ll be gone.
“Split the girls into groups based on where they’re from. Then assign a few men to each group of girls. I want to ensure their safety.”
He goes on to talk about restitution. I consider his orders, willing back my frustration. Returning the girls means I’ll be on the road another few weeks. However, if I’m in charge, I can decide which region to go to first. The Channelers heading to the southeast corner of Shaerdan sound like the perfect group to chaperone home.
“Questions?” The king drops into the seat on the other side of the desk.
I shake my head, a smile forming inside. “None at all.”
Before leaving Brentyn, Finn takes me and Lirra to Hagan’s home, where Gillian has been staying. Finn originally left her because she was too weak and broken to move. When rebel guards came to search Hagan’s home, Finn covered Gillian with boxes and blankets in the attic space. Then he distracted the men by riding away on Britta’s horse. Unfortunately, he didn’t get very far. Finn was captured a quarter league from Hagan’s home.
The door opens, and Gillian greets us through a mess of her tears. “Finn! Cohen! Lirra!” She wraps us in her arms, attempting an awkward jumbled group hug.
I untangle myself from the others and straighten my tunic.
“Let’s not do that again.” Lirra steps back.
Gillian waves a dismissing hand at her. “Get in here.”
She demands we tell her everything. But as I cover all that transpired in the last couple of weeks, Gillian’s hand lifts to her chest, clutching her dress until I finish. Moisture pools in the edges of her eyes.
“I want to go to Britta. See how she’s doing.” Gillian stares out the window.
Lirra crosses to the woman and cautiously lowers a hand to Gillian’s shoulder. “She’s in the best hands right now. Give her more time to recover.”
Time. Time is torture when you’re away from the one you love.
I haven’t heard much from the Channelers Guild since the king and I returned to Malam. Any mention of her progress has been limited to a handful of promising words. Healing slowly. A bit better today. Color returning.
Gillian’s pinched expression tells me she doesn’t want to stay in Hagan’s home any more than I want to prolong my time away from Britta. But she agrees when Lirra stresses the need for recovery time. With a grave nod, Gillian promises to visit Leif and keep an eye on Britta’s cottage until she hears word that Britta is well enough to receive visitors.
Later that morning, Finn, Lirra, and I leave for the southeastern region of Shaerdan. Joined by a couple of royal guards, we escort two carriages of Channeler girls. The carriages squelch through the half-melted patches of snow and mud on the road that winds toward Brentyn. Signs of spring, shoots of new plants and buds on branches, peek through winter’s crust.
The girls huddle in the confines of the carriage. But as we gain distance from Castle Neart, eyes exchange glances, small smiles sneak out, and sparks of hope crack through wary expressions.
As we roll over the town’s cobblestones, people gather in the market like any other day, chattering the latest gossip. They gather around the signs posted throughout the royal city. It’s a royal decree—the Purge has ended.
Lirra motions for the carriage to stop so we can read the parchment.
A kingdom ruled by fear is destined to fall. Channelers are an integral thread in the weave of our nation and our nation’s history. The eradication of Channelers will forever be known as our country’s greatest and gravest sin. I hereby wholeheartedly abolish the Purge Proclamation . . .
“About time,” Lirra mutters.
She steps out of the carriage and I follow behind, wanting to get a little closer to the posting to finish reading the decree.
All rights and privileges given to other citizens of Malam shall be returned to Channelers. King Aodren demands those affected by the Purge be treated with respect and equality, lands returned to those who were once stripped of their property, and restitution made for the lives lost. I don’t know how a country could ever fully repay the depth of loss, but the decree is a strong start. King Aodren’s apology is followed by an issue that any person caught harming a Channeler will be placed in the pillory.
“Wonder how that’ll affect you.” Lirra taps her chin.
“What do you mean?” Finn pops up beside her, Siron close behind him.
“Just that change doesn’t come about so quick.” She snaps her fingers. “Some people are going to resist.”
True. Some will fight. Change often comes on the tail end of pain and tears. But this country has been bleeding for change for the last decade. Some will resist the decree, but my guess is most will embrace it.
“We better get going if we’re planning to be back for this.” Finn points to the bottom of the post.
The decree calls for a gathering of the lords. In three weeks’ time, all nobility are called to a court meeting, in which King Aodren will introduce his newly formed inner council and discuss implementation of the new laws in Malam.
“Aye.” I reach for Siron, giving my place in the carriage to Finn. “Let’s get going.”
The air might still carry a bitter bite, but I can see spring trying to edge its way in. Change is happening all around us.
I never imagined this day would come so soon, when rights and freedom would be returned to Channelers. Filled with hope for Britta and the future, I urge Siron into a gallop to lead the girls home.
Chapter
50
Cohen
EACH SHAERDANIAN TOWN GREETS US A LITTLE DIFFERENTLY. Some welcome us with open arms and demand we stay for a night, celebrating with spirits and meat. Other Shaerdanian towns want us to leave the second we’ve delivered their missing daughters.
The hardest part comes when we travel to the families of the girls who didn’t make it through Jamis’s rebellion. It’s difficult to see their tears. To watch them fall to their knees in grief. Losing a loved one brands you. It carves space in your heart that will always stay a little empty.