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Chapter Three Hundred Fourteen: ‘The raging calm...’
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Zeff hadn’t felt this persistently angry in a long time. Which was really saying something, he knew.

As he stomped rapidly toward Graves’ designated guest chamber in their floating encampment, he tried to focus on not losing his cool again. Their last couple of conversations had not been terribly productive or insightful. And if Graves didn’t wish to talk, then they would simply not talk.

The man was holding all the cards, right now, after all. Berating him wasn’t going to accomplish anything.

Nor would attacking him, of course, even if Zeff was reconsidering that option more and more with each passing day.

He just knew that this couldn’t continue. Something had to be done. And apparently, he would have to be the one to do it, because everyone else was obviously not thinking clearly.

Argh. Just when he’d received the so-called “soul compass” from the Black Artisan, too. He’d been hoping to set out immediately in search of Cisco, but then everything went utterly mad, and now he simply couldn’t leave his kin here, completely at Graves’ mercy.

Though, he was beginning to wonder what staying was even accomplishing, either. If he couldn’t persuade Graves to let them all go, then what else was he supposed to do? He’d witnessed more than enough of the Pale Hawk’s power by now to know how little agency he had in this situation, regardless of whatever this “Supreme Will” was that he supposedly possessed.

He couldn’t help thinking that Gohvis had tried to warn him about this. And he’d been too stubborn to listen, as usual.

But what else could he have done? Taken the Monster of the East at his word? Entrusted his kin to that bastard instead of this one?

That didn’t seem like it would’ve worked out any better, but who knows?

Impossible choices. Maddening. Doubly so, when he thought about the fact that, somehow, both of them had been able to tempt him with the promise of meeting one of his missing daughters.

Quirks of fate, he thought. Coincidental or cruel? Lhutwë toying with him? Or trying to tell him something? Someone else, maybe?

It was weighing on him. Making him reevaluate things. Maybe even everything. His entire worldview.

As he neared Graves’ room, he slowed his pace to try and steady himself again. A minute or so of meditation wouldn’t hurt, he felt.