Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

13. CHAPTER 13

13

VALERIA

“Damn Veilfallen! They took my betrothed. She was the prettiest of the two sisters, and I had hoped to make her queen. Now what?”

Don Justo Ramiro Medrano - Master Mason - 21 AV

I get three hours of sleep before my eyes spring open with the first rays of sunlight that slip through the open balcony doors. I’m curled up into a tight ball, the covers gathered around me.

Summer is slipping away, and the nights are becoming cooler—not the time of the year to let the night air waltz into the room. I didn’t have the presence of mind to close the balcony before crawling into bed, or even to add another log to the fire.

The only advantage is that Cuervo was able to come into the room and is now perched on the back of an armchair. When he realizes I’m awake, he swoops down and lands on the bed next to me.

“Good morning, friend,” I say.

“Treasure?” he croaks, and I swear I see concern in his beady, round eyes.

“The treasure is safe, Cuervo. ”

He shakes his head, appearing unsure. “Treasure,” he repeats and flexes his claws, acting as if he’s picking up an imaginary amulet off the bed.

“Safe. I promise.” I smile and try to pet his neck, but he jerks his head to the side and hops to the floor. From there, he watches me with displeasure, then takes flight and leaves through the balcony.

I sit up and watch his dark silhouette get smaller against the blue morning sky as he goes far away from here.

“I don’t like it any more than you do, Cuervo.”

With a heavy sigh, I get out of bed and look around the room. Just hours ago, I was confined to a small, dank underground alcove. I was dirty and hungry and thought I would never see my home again.

Now I’m here, and I feel little to no relief. Father is gone. My sister is unrecognizable and feels leagues away from me, and I have no purpose. Before, I was determined to find Father’s murderer. And at the catacombs, I was willing to die without giving Rífíor what he wanted. It gave me strength.

Today, I care about nothing.

I climb back into bed and go back to sleep.

Several days pass in this fashion. I wake up, bicker with Cuervo about the amulet, and go back to bed. Someone brings food and leaves it on the table by the fireplace. I barely touch it.

Jago pounding on the door and shouting my name wakes me up on the sixth day. I drag myself out of bed and open the door, bleary-eyed. A few steps behind him, two guards ogle me .

“What?” I demand.

My cousin’s eyes widen, and he pushes his way into the room and shuts the door quickly.

“Now the guards know the lovely shade of your nipples,” he says, swiftly finding my robe, tossing it my way, and turning his face to the side.

I glance down and realize my very perky, tanned nipples are visible through my silk gown. I should be embarrassed but find that I don’t give a damn. I stand there, arms limp at my sides.

“Well, are you going to put the robe on?” Jago watches from the corner of his eye.

“Fine.” I throw it on, tie it, then collapse into an armchair by the fireplace. There is a cup of cold tea accompanied by pastries.

Hands on hips, he peers at me down his nose. “It’s past noon.”

“And?”

“Um, aren’t you hungry?”

“No.”

“Thirsty?”

“No.”

“Bored?”

“No, Jago. I just want to sleep.”

He has come to visit me every day, though I turned him away half the time.

Kneeling in front of me, he takes my hand in his. “Are you… dispirited? I think you are.”

“I’m fine.” I extricate my hand and stand.

Thrown off balance, he falls back on his bottom and looks up at me, outraged.

I ignore him and walk out onto the balcony. There’s a chill in the air, but the autumn sun still manages to warm my skin. Castellina stretches from the foot of the palace, an intricately woven tapestry of vibrant colors. To the east, the Realta Observatory’s immense broken shards sparkle, reflecting rainbows in all directions. Hard to believe the fae were once our friends and bestowed such beautiful gifts upon us. Why do we forget so easily?

Jago joins me. “I know it’s been awful for you, but maybe staying busy will help you get through this.”

I say nothing, barely registering his words like buzzing, annoying bees.

“I know you, Val. You do best when you—”

“He’s in the dungeons, did you hear?”

Sucking on his front teeth, he ponders for a moment, then asks, “Who exactly are we talking about?”

Ah, so even after six days, the news hasn’t spread through the palace. Amira must have ordered discretion. Smart. Nido has suffered enough breaches, one more and Castellans will start to question how we could ever protect them when we can’t even protect ourselves.

I face my cousin. “Rífíor.”

“He was apprehended?” He sounds incredulous. “I was sure everyone died in those catacombs.”

“Not him. The bastardo made it out, then came straight here. Got in through that secret passage you and I tried to use to escape.”

“Saints and feathers! We should’ve thought about that. In all the commotion, I forgot.”

“Me too.”

“So what happened?”

I tell him everything, barely mustering the energy for more than a few words.

Wind whips our hair around, presaging the blustery nights to come. When I finish recounting what happened, he pivots away on one foot and grabs his head. He walks into the bedchamber, pivots again to face me, and throws his hands up in the air .

“I just… this is… The Eldrystone… the… what in the fuck is going to happen now?” he asks, his eyes roving all over as he considers his own question.

“I have no idea, and I don’t care.” I drag my leaden body back to the bed and climb under the covers.

“Of course you care. You can’t go back to bed. C’mon, get dressed and we’ll find out more.” He pulls on my arm, but I bat him away.

The bed dips as he sits behind me. “Valeria, please. This isn’t good for you.”

I sit, and we’re eye to eye. I consider doing what he says, but I simply don’t have the energy for it. “Just let me be.”

“Do you want to talk about it? It might help.”

I collapse onto my pillow and throw the covers over my face. “Go away.”

There is no way I’ll voluntarily relive what I went through. I never want to think about it again, and the best way to do that is to sleep.

Jago lingers for a few minutes, but in the end, he leaves me alone, and I surrender to the oblivion of sleep.

The next time I wake up, it’s to Amira’s voice. She’s talking loudly, urging me to get out of bed. I throw a pillow over my head to muffle the sounds, but she snatches it away.

“You don’t think I want to stay in bed all day, too?” she demands. “Of course, I do, but I’m a Plumanegra, and there are a million things to do around here. Get up and be of use.”

“Not today,” I protest, hoping that the promise of a tomorrow will drive her away. I can play this game forever.

“You’re going to let one asshole male do this to you?”

I glare at her. “You think this is about Rífíor? You’re wrong.”

“Am I? Because I went through worse than you did, and I’m still here, making Father and Mother proud. ”

My mouth opens and closes as I search for an appropriate response. Calierin mentally tortured me for four days, and Orys possessed Amira’s mind for much longer. But who can measure these things?

Finally, I say, “I’m not you, Amira.”

“That’s correct. You’re stronger. Much stronger.”

This takes me aback. She’s the oldest, raised to be stern and disciplined by our father. Raised to be a queen. I’m not stronger. I grew up not wanting anything to do with the duties of this place. Father died knowing this. I’m a disappointment and a failure.

“You avenged Father,” she goes on. “You freed me and saved us all from that cruel sorcerer. You fought the veilfallen and never gave up.”

I shake my head, the backs of my eyes burning. Amira sits on the bed, pulls me to a sitting position, and wraps me in a tight embrace. Tears spill onto my cheeks. I try to stop them, but they keep coming and coming and coming.

My sister simply holds me, rubbing circles on my back and letting me cry until my tears are spent. Slowly, the knot of tension I’ve been carrying inside my chest unravels, and suddenly I can breathe again.

She holds me at arm’s length and offers me a sisterly smile. “Father would be proud of you.”

I shake my head. The notion seems ridiculous.

“Truly, Val. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She lets me go and picks at the bandage around her hand.

Returning her smile, I say, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I have an unpleasant task for you.”

A ball of dread forms in my stomach. “What task?”

“Remember your betrothed?”

“Oh, no!”

She nods empathetically. “I need you to talk to him.”

So he survived the engagement ball attack. Maldición!

I’ve barely spared him a thought and expected he was dead. The last time I saw him it was prone at Rífíor’s feet, but it seems he survived, unfortunately. I chide myself at the thought. I should be glad—for him, not for me—that he’s not dead, that Rífíor didn’t manage to kill another Castellan.

“Um,” I hesitate. “You don’t expect me to…” I can’t finish the horrible thought.

She shakes her head. “No, Val. I don’t expect you to marry him.”

“Oh, thank the gods!” My shoulders go limp with relief.

“But I do expect you to talk to him, explain why you won’t marry him. Also, I hope you can convince him to continue helping us hold Los Moros’ threat back in the south. We really need his help.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll think of something.” She pats my hand and walks to the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she says, “Renata Suárez is my new adviser. She has your Plumanegra key. Find her, and she’ll give it back.”

I slump back into bed, dreading a conversation with Don Justo. I almost miss the catacombs. I thought I was rid of the insufferable man, but apparently, his ambition knows no bounds.

Gods, help me!