Beneath the Sunless Sky

Chapter Thirty-Four

—Isca Caerleon, Avarra, Andavaran—

He knelt at the altar, head bowed in prayer as his lips whispered the words of The Broken Song. He had been there for hours, reciting verse after verse, hoping the ritual of prayer would bring him the peace of mind he had not felt in the months since his father's death. His knees and back were aching. Yet, still, he spoke the words. Prayer was the only thing that comforted him, the only thing that could quiet the tempest of thoughts that swirled through his mind day-in and day-out.

If he had only stayed with them in the room. If only he hadn't trusted Ori. If only he had been smarter to see her deception. Then, perhaps, his father would still be alive. Or, maybe, he would be dead, too, leaving his mother alone to rule Avarra and Belanen. He wanted to stop living in a world of what ifs, but his mind wouldn't allow it. It wanted him to suffer, wanted to replay the moment he found his father dead at the feet of the woman he lov—

The memory of their few stolen kisses came rushing back, and, suddenly, his words faltered. He could remember no verses, only the feel of Ori's lips against his own, feel her pressed against him so perfectly it was as though she was made to fit in his arms. If only he had told her he loved her. Perhaps then, she wouldn't have betrayed him.

The words forgotten, Alistair lowered his clasped hands and pushed himself to his feet. Prayers would not help him tonight. His thoughts were with Ori, where they would remain, where they always turned to, torturing him.

"You know I didn't do this," her voice echoed in his mind.

He could still see that moment perfectly, his father's blood bright as it spilled along the floor, Ori's eyes wide and pleading with him to believe her. But he couldn't. The evidence was right there before his eyes, and, yet—

Doubt. So much doubt weighed in his heart.

"Another sleepless night?" The Voice came to his side, a knowing, grim smile on his face as he joined Alistair at the altar. "I've had plenty of those myself. It is almost impossible to comprehend that your father is gone. We were colleagues for many years. I watched him grow from a Valdornne puppet into a great king concerned with the salvation of his family and his people. He was a good man. The world is lesser for his loss."

Alistair could only nod, thoughts of his father making any words stick in his throat. The Voice placed his hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"I know that nothing I can say can lessen your pain, but I wish you to know that the Path of Light stands with you and your mother. Whatever you need, we are here for you."

"I appreciate it, Your Eminence," Alistair bowed his head. "Truly, I do, but I have what I need. My men returned this morning with word of the Savior's family. They've located them in the wilds of Medyulana. We leave at dawn."

"Is there anything I can say to convince you to leave them be?"

The prince blinked, startled by the words. "No, Your Eminence. There is no hope of finding the Savior without them. If they do not know where she is, then, at least I will have the leverage I need to lure that traitorous woman out of her hiding place."

"It appears I have aged more than I thought," The Voice shook his head with a sad smile. "I have forgotten what it is to be young...to be filled with such passion that it blinds you to all else."

"Your Eminence..."

"I understand your anger, my son, and I meant what I said. The Path will stand with you and your mother, but I am not here to indulge your every whim. I am here to offer council, welcome or unwelcome though it may be. I have known the Savior since she was a child. I sheltered her when there were none who could save her from the darkness that hunted her. Though I can scarcely imagine how, I believe only the King of Bones is capable of doing something such as this, condemning the Savior to crime she did not commit."