"You know these men personally?"
"I–It's not fair!" Achan recoiled as his voice resonated in the temple. A spoiled child having a tantrum.
"You are free to make your own opinions and choices."
Achan gripped the far edge of the altar, resting his forearms on the smooth surface. "But what I choose never works out. No one agrees with me."
"And you blame Arman for that? You think he should force people to obey you?"
Achan frowned. That wasn't what he meant. "No."
"But you suggest He should make people choose your will." Caan's powerful voice softened. "You do not know me at all. Until you choose me fully, you will understand nothing."
Achan forced his head up and stared into Caan's face.
The man had tears in his eyes. "You have honored me with your lips, son of Axel, but your heart is far from me."
"My heart?"
"I am the tree. My Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit. No branch can bear fruit unless attached to the tree. Neither can you bear fruit unless you are connected to me. For I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."
"You said that, but I don't understand."
"Because you do not know me. No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both Arman and yourself. Commit to Arman whatever you do and your plans will succeed."
Achan floundered to pinpoint what plan Caan referred to. "My plans to find Sparrow?"
"Your plans are your own, but if you are truly committed to Arman, your plans will be his plans. You must commit yourself to Arman so the people may know him. For I died to ransom all. To ransom you."
The words struck Achan like a fist to the face. He sat back on his heels and churned the words in his mind. Love Caan.
Achan thought back to the Teshuwah service in Melas. Trajen Yorbride has said Caan had come to Er'Rets so Light would shine in Darkness. But Darkness had not understood.
Achan had not understood because there was Darkness in his heart.
Yet he was called to bring Light back to Er'Rets. But how could he push back Darkness if there was no Light in him?
Caan is Light. Achan needed Caan's light to banish the Darkness in his heart. Fear. Selfishness. Anger. Hate. Insecurity. Loneliness. These things were not Light. And Achan clung to them.
Achan's heart was far from Arman's, clinging to Dark things. He had never discovered Arman's will for his life because he spent all his time consumed by his circumstances. He had carelessly guessed his role and tried to align that with his own desires for happiness.
Comprehension dawned, overwhelming Achan in grief. He needed to believe. To trust Arman's plan, even when that plan was unclear. "I'm sorry. I didn't understand."
"Your faith has ransomed you, son of Axel. Go in peace."
While the last word still echoed in the chamber, Caan vanished, taking the heat and light and sorrow with him.
Achan gasped in a few deep breaths to get his composure and broke into a cold sweat. It took a while for his eyes to readjust to the sunlight streaming through the broken windows. Lord Yarden wouldn't be pleased with the state of his temple.
The sunlight vanished as if a storm cloud blocked the sun. Achan pushed himself up and turned to face the door.
Shung stood in the doorframe, staring at Achan with wide eyes. "Rare the man whose prayers move the earth."
Achan stopped before his Shield. "What did you see?"
Shung gestured his good arm at the altar. "The little cham knelt at the altar and the earth shook."
"You didn't see Caan?"
Shung shook his head, brown eyes wide.
The diminished light distracted Achan from Shung. He stepped over the shards of glass, past Shung, out the door, and onto the temple porch. The wide, fair valley stretched out below, sunny and bright, yet mist coated his arms. He descended the porch steps and turned to look back.
A thick fog hovered around three sides of Temple Arman.
"The Evenwall." Achan stumbled back, heart stampeding in his chest. Darkness was growing, as Sir Gavin had predicted. At this rate, it would reach the back of the Mitspah stronghold by morning.
Achan rubbed more rue juice over his arms, inhaling the thick piney scent, pondering Caan's words. He missed Sparrow. He didn't understand why she ignored his messages. But a peace had settled over his heart. Arman was in control, so Achan needn't fear.
He had been ransomed.
The door opened and Shung entered. He reached into his pocket and held up a sliver of bone on a leather cord, grinning, exposing his yellow teeth. "A symbol of your victory and the one to come."
Shung placed the charm in Achan's hand. Closer now, he saw, not a bone shard, but a claw the length of his index finger. He shuddered and rolled his sore shoulder. "Is this from…?"
"Aye. There are more, but Shung thought the little cham too modest to wear them like Koyukuk."
Achan laughed, dryly. More like he'd have nightmares with a clutch of cham claws round his neck day in and day out. He supposed he could manage one, though the sight of it chilled him. He accepted the necklace and bowed his head, keeping eye contact with Shung. "Thank you, Shung. You honor me with this gift."
"Shung will not finish cape for many weeks. Little Cham needs symbol of victory now."
"You're making a cape?"
"The hide is tanning. Then Shung will trim and shape it."
"Thank you, Shung. You're a good friend."
Shung returned to his post outside the door. Achan inspected the claw. It was shaped like a long, curving beak, wide at the paw end and tapering to a sharp point. Shung had bored a hole through the wide end and strung it onto a braided leather cord. Achan reached over the jar of rue juice Sparrow had made him and picked up the length of red twine from the tabletop. He held one end at the knot of the leather cord on Shung's necklace, and drew the twine along, measuring its length. He smiled. It was long enough.
Achan spent the next hour unbraiding Shung's leather cord and adding Sparrow's length of red twine. This way, she'd be with him always.
"Are you certain it is working?" Vrell had eaten more karpos fruit that she had ever cared to and duplicated herself as sentries in her mind. Sir Eagan had promised this would help keep Achan from seeing her thoughts. "I can still hear every word he says to me."
"As can I." Sir Eagan chuckled. "Does the prince even know how to knock? Or does he always charge his way into any mind he wants?"
Vrell stroked her horse's neck and smiled to herself. "I tried to teach him."
"Well, my lady, until he leans the way into your mind, he will continue to message. I cannot mute him. The karpos will give you extra strength, but I doubt it will stop him once he is taught. And from what Sir Gavin told me, he plans to have your mother teach him."
Surely Mother would not help Achan break into Vrell's mind. Thankfully, Vrell would be able to discuss this with Mother before she had a chance to teach Achan anything.
The journey with Sir Eagan should have been awkward, but Vrell found herself unnaturally calm until Carmine appeared on the horizon and excitement brought her to tears.
She was home!
She rode with Sir Eagan to the front door of GrantonCastle. Anillo stood waiting on the steps. A stable boy took their horses.
Vrell ran to greet Anillo, overcome with joy, but he held up a hand. "If you both will follow me."
Vrell sobered. Mother did not want to make a scene of her return. Could Lord Nathak still have spies lurking?
Anillo led them to Mother's study. Mother stood at the widow overlooking the northern fields, her back to them. She wore a lavender and black gown. Her hair was down, curling in auburn ringlets to the center of her back. As soon as the door shut she turned. Her tear-filled eyes studied Vrell, flashed to Sir Eagan, then back to Vrell.