The Way We Fall

Chapter 158 (Roche)

TW: Blood, injury, medical bandaging, death.

"This is absurd!" Verita shouted across the library chambers. The elderly librarian paced, hands fluttering with worry as Roche flipped through her spellbook from her place perched on one of the wooden tables.

Leinos cleared his throat, pinning Verita with a knowing look. "This is what she was made for."

Verita huffed loudly. "Really? She made to reveal herself to save the king who would see her dead?"

"I won't be revealing myself," Roche scoffed, "I'm not a fool!"

Verita pressed her lips together. "I know that. But a simple disguise won't hide you from the princess and her brother. They both know you too well."

Roche held up the spellbook. "I know. That's why it'll be a very convincing disguise. They won't suspect a thing."

Verita wrung her hands nervously. "Roche, I don't know. This seems far too risky. If something goes wrong... you'll be on a pyre before dawn."

Roche set down the book, shoving down a fresh thrill of fear. "I know," she admitted, feeling bad when she noticed the flare of concern in the librarian's eyes. She straightened, her legs swinging over the edge of the table. "But this is bigger than me. This is the chance we've been waiting for. It's the perfect opportunity to show Tigris the good that inkblood can bring."

"She's already doing that on her own," Verita argued, her brows furrowing, "She's become openly neutral about inkblood since Finnegan received it."

"She's become neutral, yes," Roche agreed, jumping off the table soundly. She met Verita's gaze head on. "But she's still only seen the harm of inkblood. All she knows is that it can be used as a weapon, as the Council has been using it, or worshipped as the covens do. She hasn't seen any of the beauty of it. She doesn't know that it can be used to heal and learn and more!"

It had been something Roche had forgotten about until she'd seen Medea's face at the celebration. She remembered sitting in front of her beloved, showing her just how beautiful she and her inkblood could be.

Roche's heart ached. She couldn't deny that recently her inkblood had felt more like a weapon aimed at the Council than anything else. It would be a good reminder to herself that she was destined to be something greater than a useless lump of ink.

She was meant to change the world for the better. That was what her inkblood was for.

Verita still looked unconvinced. "But if you fail-"

"Then I'd have tried everything that I could to save Tigris' father," Roche replied, careful to keep her voice even. She had no lost love for the king, and she knew that the world would be a better place without his hatred. But she knew the pain of losing a father. She wouldn't subject Tigris to that.

Verita's worry seemed to have spread. Leinos paced slightly, watching Roche with worry in his eyes.

"I don't understand how you plan on disguising yourself," he confessed. Roche smiled, holding out the spellbook. She'd marked out the pages with healing spells, but she didn't open any of the pages.

"Like this,"

Roche heaved a breath, sprinkling the mulberry wood shavings she'd collected around her in a circle. As she spoke, her inkblood filled the air. She swayed, each movement spreading a thin, invisible layer of power around the wood. The small shavings began to float and glow.

"Hoiska korpa kansem chariosai henalios."

The wood shavings burst apart with a blinding flare of ebony light that encased Roche's body. As her vision winked out, she felt an ache beginning in her bones. She grunted, feeling them compress and her skin loosen like folded sheets. She gasped, feeling an ache radiate down her back and from her knees. When she opened her eyes, the world was slightly blurred.