Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

14. CHAPTER 14

14

VALERIA

“Them fae folk can pull off miracles. Seen it with me own two eyes. Like their espiritu talks to the saints or something.”

Bonifacio Gómez - Human Vagrant - 1 DV

“ T raitor!” I call when I see Jago descending the steps across the mezzanine on the second floor of Nido’s center building.

He stops mid-step and looks up, giving me a huge smile. “You have rejoined the living, I see.”

We meet halfway.

He looks me up and down. “And you even took a bath.”

I grab his arm and lead him aside as a group of guardias passes by. They carry a large, folded flag—the Plumanegra standard, from the looks of it—and march in unison, their movements as precise as clockwork.

“I know you told on me. Now, thanks to you, I have to talk to Don Justo,” I hiss.

He presses a hand to his heart. “My condolences.”

“I thought he was dead, or at least back in Alsur.”

“Dead? Why would he be dead?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I wave a hand in front of his face. “Since this is your fault. You have to help me.”

“I don’t think I—”

“Shut up and let’s go visit Nana. I want to see her.”

On our way to her quarters, I explain that Amira wants me to keep Don Justo as our ally, sans royal wedding.

“You might as well ask an elm tree for pears, or a turnip for blood,” he says.

“Stop saying such motivating things and start thinking of how we can convince him.”

We don’t find Nana in her bedchamber, which is unusual. The only other place where she normally goes is a small dining hall next to the main kitchen. There is a large fireplace there that helps keep her bones warm and allows her to visit with the cook, her friend of many years. We find her there, sipping creamy soup from a small bowl. The savory scent hits my nose and awakens my appetite.

“Nana!” I rush to her side and hug her from the side.

“Oh, mi ni?a!” she exclaims, her voice nearly breaking with emotion. “I was worried sick about you.”

“You had no reason to worry, Nana,” Jago says. “I told you I would get her back, and I did.”

As Nana squeezes me and kisses my forehead, I look up at Jago, a well of gratitude filling my chest. I don’t even remember if I thanked him. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. Of course, there are also Esmeralda and Gaspar to consider. I must thank them as well.

Nana composes herself. Her gray hair is up in a neat chignon, and she wears a high-collar dress trimmed with lace, simple but stately.

“Sit, child. Sit.” She gestures toward the chair to her right. “And you,” she points at Jago and to her left, “sit here.”

This dining hall accommodates no more than twelve people, and it’s mainly reserved for impromptu, informal meals. Still paintings of vases and flowers in shades of blue decorate the wall. The upholstery and the carpet are also blue, which might be another reason Nana likes this dining hall. That’s her favorite color.

We do as she says as she rings a small bell. A servant appears right away, and Nana instructs him to prepare a feast for three, including Tarta de Santiago, my favorite dessert.

When the food comes, I can’t eat much—my stomach wants me to go slowly—but I try a bit of everything, especially the tart.

“Your mother’s necklace is truly The Eldrystone then,” Nana asks, after sipping from her teacup.

I nod. “It is.”

“What an amazing wonder,” she says.

It turns out Nana always harbored suspicion about Mother’s necklace, noticing the way Mother would sometimes gaze at it with a certain reverence. Then when Maestro Elizondo mentioned my curiosity about the jewel and The Eldrystone, she immediately sensed that my intuition was on the mark. Now, I can’t help but wonder if there was more to her suspicions.

“Nana,” I say, “what exactly made you so sure Mother’s necklace was important?”

She sets down her tea and thinks for a moment. “I honestly don’t know. I suppose I always had many questions about your mother.”

I lean in closer, eager to hear what she has to say. An aura of mystery surrounded Mother at all times, and I used to think it was because her fae heritage had to be kept secret from everyone, but now I know the aura extends far beyond that.

“She came to Nido with your father,” she continues, “after one of his habitual journeys to Leonesa, on the very eve of the veil’s collapse.”

I was aware of this, of course, but the knowledge never carried the significance it carries now. The fae blame humans for the collapse of the veil, which I always thought was wrong .

“The only reason we are here, the only person who can be blamed for all of this, is your so-called Queen of Castella. She is the reason the veil collapsed.”

Mother was fae, so the blame may be misplaced unless Father was involved somehow.

But is it possible Rífíor’s telling the truth? Is it possible Mother took the amulet from him and somehow used it to cut off access between the realms? And if so, why?

There has to be a reasonable explanation, something that led Mother to such a decision.

Regardless, it all starts with Rífíor. He stole the amulet in the first place. It doesn’t belong to him either, and I bet he bears the full responsibility for what happened between him and Mother and is only trying to shift the blame.

Jago frowns, pondering. “What are you saying, Nana?”

“Well, it’s not a tremendous leap of logic to think that if Queen Loreleia was in possession of The Eldrystone, and her arrival to Castella coincided with the collapse of the veil that she had something to do with it, is it?” Nana says, voicing the very words I’m trying to deny.

Jago exchanges a glance with me, looking shocked. He blinks and glances back at Nana. “But why close the veil?”

“That is anyone’s guess.” Nana dabs her lips with a lace-trimmed napkin.

“What do you think would happen,” I begin quietly, tentatively, “if the veil were to reopen?”

Both Nana and Jago contemplate my question, brows furrowed, but neither one of them offers an answer.

“Would it be good or bad?” I press.

“That is a difficult thing to predict,” Nana says, her voice tired.

“I think it would be bad,” Jago says at last. “The fae who are trapped here hate us. If they go back, they might come back with an army to retaliate for twenty years of less-than-stellar treatment. Imagine an army of agile fae who in addition are loaded with espiritu invading Castella.”

“The fae were always peaceful,” Nana says, “but I wonder how their realm is faring without the conduit Niamhara created to help curb their magical prowess.”

I frown at Nana, surprised by her comment. It seems she has put a lot of thought into this. She gave emphasis to magical because we have never called those innate abilities magic . When fae first came to Castella two thousand years ago, our ancestors viewed that type of power as a manifestation of the inner spirit, a unique energy that must come from the saints. In a way, they were right. Espiritu comes from a higher entity: Niamhara. They say she created fae in her image, which therefore granted them her abilities to control the elements. Who knows? Maybe magic does come from our spirit.

“Marco and I have talked about this at length,” she adds as she notices my confusion.

That explains it. Maestro Elizondo loves nothing more than to expound and analyze every topic from every angle.

“But don’t those people trapped on either side deserve a chance to return to ?” I argue.

Nana nods slowly. “Certainly, but what if in the process, it brings suffering to a greater number of people? What if it brings war as Jago suggests.”

Jago shakes his head. “I’d say we leave that wasps’ nest alone. I like things the way they are.”

I can see the logic in their words, but I can’t help but feel it is wrong to condemn so many to a life of exile.

Nana reaches across the table and puts her hand over mine. “Don’t fret, mi ni?a, I’m sure Amira will devise a way to make things better for everyone.”

As I nod, a small smile stretches my lips. Yes, Nana is right. Amira will figure something out.