The Black Prism
Page 104

She came to his side and he pulled her close so they could watch the sun rise together.
“Moments of beauty sustain us through hours of ugliness,” her father said. She watched him as he watched the sun rise. His blue eyes—outside the red halo, of course—looked tired. Corvan Danavis had always had the capacity to survive on less sleep than anyone Liv knew, so she knew it wasn’t the early hour that had him weary. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen this look on his face, but she thought it might be the first time she understood it.
All those times she’d seen this look pinching his eyes and squeezing the joy out of her usually jovial father, he was reliving battles. Today, he was preparing to see more men die—and fighting for the very man who’d killed his people in the past, Gavin Guile. It must be tearing him apart.
The sun rose in magnificent pinks and oranges mirrored in the waves, and slowly the tension leaked out of her father’s eyes. She could see the freckles under his caramel skin around his eyes, and the faint red highlights in his hair were set afire by the sunlight. She’d inherited neither, nor the blue eyes that would have helped her be a more powerful drafter.
Corvan’s lips moved faintly, mouthing words. Oh, he was praying, she realized. Finished, he made the triangle, splaying three fingers: touching his thumb to his right eye; his middle finger to his left eye; and his forefinger to his forehead, the spiritual eye. He completed the gesture by touching mouth, heart, and hands. The three and the four, the perfect seven, sealed to Orholam. What you behold, what you believe, how you behave.
He didn’t turn from the risen sun. “You came to demand how I can fight for my old enemy,” he said.
“He killed mother.” Liv’s voice was icy.
“No, Aliviana, he didn’t.”
“His people did. Same thing.”
“The situation is more complicated than you realize.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t treat me like I’m a child!”
“I’m sorry, Aliviana, I have to protect—”
“I’m seventeen. I’ve been surviving without your protection for three years! You don’t have to protect me anymore.”
“Not protecting you,” Corvan said. “Protecting others from you.”
What? It hit Liv like a shot in the stomach. Her father didn’t trust her?
“You know who was seventeen when he upended the world?” Corvan asked. “Dazen Guile.”
“But—but—that’s not even close to the same thing.”
“Aliviana, I’m asking you to trust me. I’ve seen fathers who abuse their position and demand slavish obedience of their children. I’ve never done that with you, have I? When you wanted to go to the Chromeria and I didn’t want you to go, when I told you that I could teach you everything about drafting you needed to know, what happened?”
“You let me go.” Eventually.
“And it was awful for you there, but you showed me how strong you are, and here you stand. I’m proud of you, Aliviana. You swam with sea demons and survived. But I’m asking you to trust me on this. I’m doing the right thing. I promise. I haven’t forgotten your mother. I haven’t forgotten you.”
She couldn’t maintain the eye contact or her righteous indignation in the face of her father’s open, honest refusal to be more open and honest. He was standing on his record, and more than anyone, she knew that his record was unimpeachable. She also knew that he wouldn’t be moved once he made a decision like this. If she was stubborn, she’d come by it honestly.
She gave in. “It was so much easier to admire him when he wasn’t making war in our country. I mean, I didn’t even think about the war when I was around him.”
“A little infatuated?” her father suggested.
A flush crawled up her cheeks. “Maybe a little,” she grumbled.
“I’d wonder if you weren’t. He is what he is,” Corvan said, shrugging.
“He really isn’t responsible for mother’s death?” Liv asked, feeling weak.
“Responsible? That’s tricky. If the Guiles hadn’t gone to war, would your mother still be alive? Probably. But I can tell you two things: Gavin didn’t order or desire your mother’s death in any way, and he is utterly and forever besotted with one woman, and that’s not you.”
“That’s three things, isn’t it?” Liv asked, shooting her father a grin.
He grinned back. “You get one free for being my daughter.”
“What’s he doing here? The Prism’s men burned this city, killed tens of thousands. He’s showed no interest in Garriston since then, so what does he want now? Like it didn’t matter when no one wanted it, but now that someone does, he can’t lose it?”
“There weren’t two Guile brothers, there were three. The youngest one, Sevastian, was murdered by a blue wight when Gavin was about thirteen. Gavin’s first purpose is to protect the innocent from color wights. Or, if you want to look at it uncharitably, to kill color wights wherever he finds them. King Garadul is using color wights, or at least the Prism believes he is. So he must be stopped.”
“A blue wight? That doesn’t make sense. Blues are rational, aren’t they?”
“Liv, people talk about breaking the halo like you go instantly mad, like it’s as clean a separation as between living and dying. It’s not. Some color wights hold on to something like sanity for weeks or even months. Some are fine during the night, but in light, they’re fully in the grip of their color. The madness is different every time. A blue can go into a murderous rage; a red can seem calm and philosophical. It’s why they’re so dangerous. Now, are you going to help me?”
“Fine, what can I do?” she asked.
“Do you know how to make luxin grenadoes?”
“What? No.”
“What are they teaching you dims at the Chromeria these days?”
“Hey!”
Corvan smiled. “You have your specs?”
“Of course,” Liv said.
“Good, I could use a yellow.”
“I’m not a very good yellow. I mean, I can’t make a solid brightwater.”
“That’s not what I need,” Corvan said. “Do you know what happens when you mix red and liquid yellow, seal it airtight in a blue shell, and then shatter it against something?”
“Uh, something good?” Liv asked.
“Boom!” Corvan said. “You could use superviolet for the shell, too, but it makes throwers nervous.”
Picking up an explosive when you couldn’t see whether the shell was intact? Liv could see how that might make someone nervous.
Corvan tossed her a blue luxin ball. She caught it and was surprised that it rattled. She looked closer. The ball had round shot inside it, like small musket balls. For some reason, it stunned her. “These, these…”
“Those are what make grenadoes kill. That’s what we’re doing, Aliviana. We’re killing people. Right here, right now. We’re using Orholam’s gift to kill Orholam’s children. Most of whom are fools who could be our friends at any other time. It’s a hard world. You want me to lie about it? You want to be protected after all?”