She met his gaze and nodded solemnly. “It happens sometimes. Some of the older guards told me. But you have to fight it, Hendrik. He needs you. He needs you so much right now. And then it’ll be his turn to take care of you.”
Hen sucked in a breath that felt a little too close to a sob.
Piret took his hand. “I’m gonna need you, too. I don’t even—I mean, they don’t really teach us how to sleep alone at night, do they?”
“We don’t really matter.” And that Hendrik believed with his whole heart. He was beginning to understand, now, that was really the point. If he made it through Kass’s inheritance without disintegrating entirely, without succumbing to disorder, he’d be a different person. A broken person, missing a piece that no untouchable god could ever replace.
And that was what they wanted. He wasn’t sure why; he was too bogged down in pain and fear to work it out. But he knew it had to be part of the plan. The priests’ plan? Someone’s plan.
She shook her head. “No. We don’t matter. But they do. So, let’s make sure they know it.”
*
You let it go too far. The truth in Piret’s words echoed in his ears all day. He let it go too far, and now his own desires threatened to blot out Kass’s destiny in his mind. Ashamed, sad, and mentally exhausted, Hendrik resolved to be a better guard and let everything else fall by the wayside.
Kass met him at the door of the cell with a grin, hands out.
Hen took them. “You heard?”
Kass nodded. “I knew it. Didn’t I tell you it was close?”
Hen smiled and forced himself to think only of Kass’s divine glory. “You did. I won’t even ask if you’re ready. I told Brecca you were this morning.”
Kass squeezed his hands. “Can we go look at the river before it gets dark? Word is there’s something poisoning it out there, and that’ll be our first concern. Lyla’s getting hers, too!”
“I saw Piret earlier. She said Lyla’s beside herself.” It wasn’t even hard to shut out his own feelings, now that he was trying. The joy and excitement in Kass’s face was real and true, and in that, at least, there was comfort. Hen could cling to that. “We can go up to the walls, if you want. Might even be able to use a spyglass if I know someone up there.”
“I hoped you’d say that.” Kass threw himself into Hen’s arms and hugged him tight.
Hen returned the hug and kissed the top of his head, breathing deeply. Remembering the scent of his hair soap and skin.
“You’re not sad, are you?”
“A little bit.” Hen pulled back and smiled. “But it’s sweeter than it is bitter. And I’m so, so proud of you.”
Kass leaned in and kissed him quickly, then turned to grab his hat. “We should go—we’ll need good light.”
The river was fed by mountain streams running just to the east of the City; the same source probably fed the underground springs supplying most of the City’s fresh water, but even that wasn’t always safe to drink until it’d been made into weak ale. The river was rumored to have once been cleaner, so hearing it was “poisoned,” whatever that meant, was an unpleasant surprise. Hen was curious to see what they could, too.
Hats in place, they strode out of the High City then through the Mid-District, where any crowds quickly parted before Hendrik’s tabard. A few people bowed their heads to Kass. When a richly dressed youth followed a similarly-aged guard, it was a good bet they were Children of the Blood. They passed through the gates to skirt the Ag District, where crowds were thicker, dirtier, and generally more worn-out. People there not only parted and bowed before them, but whispered as they passed, awestruck.
A woman Hen initially thought was very old toddled up to Kass, her hand outstretched. Without thinking, Hen stepped between them, his sword sliding out of its scabbard with a metallic hiss.
Kass put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Hen. She just wants to talk to me.”
Hen glared at the woman. She looked up, and he was shocked to realize she wasn’t much older than them. But her pale skin made the dark circles beneath her eyes stand out like bruises, and her hair and hands were stained dark from the mines. He relaxed slightly, stepping just to the side but holding out one hand, so it was clear she should stay where she was.
“Sir, will you take a blessing to heaven for me?” she asked. “I have the mine-cough.”
“Of course.” Kass beamed and held out his hands. The woman knelt with some difficulty and bowed her head, and he placed them on top of it. “What’s your name?”
“Endla, sir.”
“Endla, I’ll remember you to the gods when I join them. You have my word and promise.”
“So it is,” Endla whispered, almost as if she were afraid to speak it. “Thank you, thank you so much, sir.”
A few more people edged forward, seeing this little scene play out. Hen stood straighter, bringing his sword up to rest against his shoulder so they would be sure to see it front and center. “We should go,” he said.
“It’s okay,” Kass assured him. He said to the watchers, “Tell me your names, and I’ll take them with me.”
Some of them shouted, some knelt and told him, but a dozen at least gave him names, which he dutifully repeated and promised to take with him. “I’ll take your names to heaven this very moon, good people.”
Muttered choruses of “So it is” followed in his wake as Hen pulled him away from the central streets and into the alleys. It was the long way around, but they were less likely to have to deal with that.
“They wouldn’t hurt me,” Kass said with a chuckle.
“It’s my job to think they might,” Hen pointed out.
“And it’s mine to give them hope. You don’t mind, I know you don’t.”
Hen didn’t, exactly, but this was why he rarely wanted to bring Kass to the lower levels of the City; people here had more to pray for. Kass might be more needed here, but people would do strange and even terrible things for hope’s sake. “I’m glad they appreciate you,” he said.
“You’re going to rule the halls of power, someday.” Kass chuckled. “That was so politic.”
Hen shot him a smile and picked up the pace as they picked through alleys, dancing around drips from hanging laundry and the occasional emptying piss-pot from above. Though the buildings in the lower reaches of the mountain never grew over two or three stories, they were close together, with room for a laden donkey going one way and little more to pass between them. It was claustrophobic, full of smells and sounds of humanity, but also had a strange charm. Life wasn’t hidden here, as it was up in the High City. It was everywhere, pulsing and real.
At last, they reached the guard tower Hen had been aiming for, and he knocked at the entryway. At a small, metal grate, a face appeared. “What’s your business?”
