Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

8. CHAPTER 8

8

RíFíOR

“Like Calierin, I begin to doubt our leader.”

Kadewyn Zinceran - Veilfallen - 21 DV

I find Calierin and Kadewyn. Rage sings in my veins. The commotion has awakened everyone, including them.

“She escaped,” I say, hands trembling as I tighten them into fists.

“What?! How?!” Calierin demands, her volatile temper jumping to the surface.

Kadewyn hangs back, his pale silver eyes gleaming under the torchlight. He looks as puzzled as I feel.

I shake my head, trying to figure out how it could have happened. “I don’t know. She had help, but…” I shake my head.

“A traitor?” Calierin suggests, then runs with the idea. “Someone here sold us out. I will kill the bhrisconach !”

“Settle down, Calierin,” I order. “Our people aren’t traitors. I scented a strange male, and I followed his trail outside. They had transport, a wagon or carriage. It was a small effort, though effective.”

“We have to go after them!” Calierin declares.

Kadewyn steps next to Calierin. His silver hair makes Calierin’s light blond appear positively yellow .

“No,” he says calmly. “We have to get out of here. Gather what we can and leave.”

He’s right. They know where we are now. This place isn’t safe anymore. “Give the order,” I say.

Kadewyn nods and rushes down one of the bone-filled passages.

“We are just going to let her get away?” Calierin demands.

“No,” I say. “We are not.”

She grins. “Let us go then.”

I shake my head. “I will do this on my own.”

“Not again, Rífíor. We can’t stand by you if you keep shutting us out of your plans. I can help. Kadewyn can help. We all can help.”

No. No one can help me, and perhaps my time with the veilfallen has come to an end. I only became their leader because it served my purposes, but now that I know how I can get to The Eldrystone, they have become a liability. Even if they don’t know exactly what the amulet is, the simple fact that they know it can take them back to Tirnanog is enough to make them covet it.

“I don’t need help,” I say. “I will take care of it myself.”

“The way you took care of it before?” she demands with contempt.

“Watch yourself, Calierin!”

“Or what?”

Her fists curl and so do mine. Since our attack on Nido, she has been regarding me with suspicion. She does not believe my tale entirely, and that makes her dangerous. She is the last of the veilfallen I would trust with more than I have already divulged. She doubts me, but what she does not know is that I do not doubt others the way she does.

I distrust, utterly and entirely.

I open my mouth to respond when a cry of alarm pushes through the path to our left and reverberates against the crumbling walls.

Our heads snap in the direction of the commotion .

“They’re already here,” Calierin says as she deciphers the words of warning at the same time that I do.

We’re under attack. Castellina’s Guardia is here. They must have been lying in wait, making sure their princess was safe before they launched their attack.

We draw our swords and run toward what already sounds like a battle.

VALERIA

“W-what do you mean they’re all dead by now?” I ask.

Amira’s smile deepens. “I told you the guards have their orders. Castellina’s Guardia, under the command of the Guardia Real, stormed the catacombs shortly after you were rescued. We couldn’t let them get away after what they did. They died in those tunnels like the vermin they are.”

My lower lip trembles.

“They were overwhelmed by our numbers,” she continues. “And in the end, we flushed the last few with smoke and cut them down as they ran out for fresh air. They’re all dead.”

As she finishes the last sentence, there’s a gleam in her eyes, a flash of the Amira who was possessed by Orys. She sounds cold and…not entirely herself.

I don’t know how many veilfallen were inside those catacombs, but I can’t believe Amira ordered the slaughter of that many people.

Overwhelmed, I turn my back on her and try to examine the strong emotions whirling inside me. At first inspection, I’m not sure what the pressure in my chest is, but I slowly realize it’s horror. My sister would never do something like that.

Still, I shouldn’t feel this way. I should be glad they’re all dead. They’ve caused unrest for years, and many innocent people have died because of them. They deserved this fate, didn’t they? They asked for it.

“I know it’s a lot to handle.” From behind, Amira wraps her arms around my waist and lays her head on my shoulder. “But Castella will be far safer without them. We should have done this a long time ago. If we had, Father would still be alive.”

That isn’t necessarily true. Orys was the one who killed Father, and he had no connection to the veilfallen. He shared their philosophy, blamed humans for the veil’s collapse, but he was acting alone.

A second wave of emotions crashes into me. The veilfallen are dead.

Rífíor is dead.

I sway on my feet as satisfaction, confusion, delight, doubt, and more flood me and blend into a toxic concoction. I don’t understand what I’m feeling. I shake my head forcefully and disentangle myself from Amira.

He’s dead. The bastard is dead. He deceived me, tortured me. He got his due. Rífíor of the Veilfallen isn’t a problem anymore. His essence has passed into one of the many hells the fae believe in, where he’ll pay for his sins.

But if my thoughts on this are unequivocal, why are my emotions tainted by the memories of one night?

I hate myself. I hate myself.

Amira takes my hand and pulls me toward the bed. “I can see this news has upset you. Come. Lie down and sleep. You’ll feel much better in the morning. You have been through so much, and it will be a while before you can see everything clearly.”

I nod. She’s right. I need time. I need distance to set my life to rights. I have to process all the changes and build a new Valeria for a world where Father doesn’t exist, and Amira is the type of queen who ruthlessly executes her enemies.

Taking a deep breath, I allow her to lead me to bed. I rest my head down, and she covers me. She rests next to me and wraps me in her arms. She starts humming and unleashes an avalanche of memories inside my mind with the melody. It’s a sweet fae tune Mother used to sing for us. It’s in Tirgaelach, the old and disused fae language. Neither one of us remembers the words. Many times, after Mother died, Amira and I tried to recall them, even asked Maestro Elizondo if he knew the song, but we never succeeded in recalling it.

Amira smooths my hair. “Sleep. You’re safe. No one will hurt you, my little sister.”

“I love you,” I say groggily.

“I love you, too.”

Her tenderness slowly easies the turmoil that rages inside me. My eyelids grow heavier as I start to believe her words of comfort, and the exhaustion of the horrible days I spent in those catacombs descends on me and traps me in its claws.

The niggling sensation I felt in the tub returns, scratching the back of my awareness, but everything slips away. Like leaves caught in a strong wind, my thoughts move further and further away. I want oblivion, crave it. This world feels foreign, and I want nothing to do with it.

Surrendering to sleep is easy after I decide to detach myself from this awful reality.