Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

19. CHAPTER 19

19

VALERIA

“What is wrong with me? I feel like I can’t even trust my own sister.”

Reina Amira Plumanegra (Casa Plumanegra) - Queen of Castella - 21 AV

A t first, I have no idea where we’re going, but when she walks deep into the palace and heads straight north of the central building, the realization hits me.

We’re going to the dungeons.

“I don’t want to see him, Amira,” I say.

“You said we could get through this together. Have you changed your mind so quickly?”

I shake my head, and she hurries her step, her dress billowing behind her. It’s red and seems to leave a trail of despair behind her. She descends the steps of the dimly illuminated passage toward the dungeons with the determination of a member of the Guardia Real. I follow, feeling anything but determined.

Two guards stand at attention and click their heels when we appear.

“At ease,” Amira says, and the guards relax. With a commanding air that I feel would crack under the least amount of pressure, she takes a ring of keys from a metal hook on the wall, turns to one of the guards, and issues an order. “Give me your rapier. ”

He blinks in surprise, as do I, but I don’t dare contradict her in front of these men. Hastily, he unsheathes his sword and hands it over, exchanging a wary glance with his partner.

“Remain alert,” she commands. “I will call you if the need arises. Otherwise, don’t bother us.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” They hold their heads high and click their heels again as we pass under the arched doorway and find Rífíor’s cell all the way at the end.

Torches, instead of gas lamps, illuminate the dank passage. No one else is here but the veilfallen leader, sitting on a narrow stone ledge, a statue with his gaze set on infinity. He doesn’t look in our direction as we appear, doesn’t even acknowledge our presence in the smallest of ways. It’s as if his body is an empty shell.

There is a bowl with untouched bread on the floor. The smell of urine and sweat clog the air, making me wince.

“How many people have you killed, Rífíor of the Veilfallen?” Amira asks, tapping the bars with the rapier. “How many of them human?”

He continues to stare into the distance, seemingly oblivious to our presence. Despite his despondent attitude, his posture is straight, regal.

“Too many to count, I imagine,” she says. “I shudder to think how many more you would have killed if The Eldrystone hadn’t a mind of its own.”

Still no reaction.

Amira glances at me sidelong, appearing disappointed at the lack of answer. At last, she thrusts the rapier into my hand. Frowning, I take it, and she proceeds to unlock the cell.

“What are you doing?!” I demand.

She doesn’t answer. She just throws the cell door open and steps aside.

My heart skips a beat. I raise the sword, ready to defend my sister, but he remains impassive.

“Kill him,” Amira says, pointing at the male .

“What?!”

“Kill him, Val. Do this for me?”

I shake my head. “No. This isn’t how we do things. There should be a trial.”

“Why? We already know what he did. Why waste time and resources on this hijo de puta .” Her curse shocks me. She never uses such words.

“Because Castella stands for justice,” I say.

“Few know he’s here. None care.”

“I care, Amira. I—?”

“You care about him?” she interrupts.

At this, Rífíor blinks and lowers his chin to his chest, the first indication that he isn’t a piece of frozen meat, but a hot-blooded male.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” I reply.

“You love him, don’t you?” She throws the words like an accusation.

“It has nothing to do with love. I hate him for what he’s done to me, for teaching me to distrust people the way Orys taught you, for making me afraid of my dreams at night. I. Hate. Him.”

“Then kill him!” Spittle flies from Amira’s mouth.

I stare at Rífíor, the rapier trembling in my hand. His lids lower, and he shuts his eyes as if resigned to die in this moldy cell.

His defeated attitude perplexes me. This isn’t the male I know. Rífíor is full of determination. He’s intense and driven. That’s why he found The Eldrystone, except… the amulet wanted nothing to do with him.

Rejected and without his quest, he appears to be nothing but a broken male. Why is Niamhara’s conduit opposed to him now? Presumably, he wielded it successfully in the past, if not why else search for it so desperately?

Seeing him like this does something to me. Slowly, I lower my sword. I don’t know what lies in his past, what made him do all the terrible things he has done, and how it all connects to my mother. I don’t know if he suffered, if he lost something precious, and that means I can’t judge him .

Pain has turned Amira—my sweet, compassionate sister—into a person I barely recognize. Pain has also changed me. I can feel it even now, urging me to use the sword and end another life in the pursuit of vengeance, but I have no right to take away that which I didn’t give. I’m not a god and don’t intend to act like one. Not again. Orys deserved what I did to him, but that doesn’t mean the weight of my actions is easy to live with. No matter how much Rífíor deserves the same fate, my load is heavy enough already.

I have to think of my sister, too. If I don’t show her there is another path besides anger and bitterness, might she become a blind, single-minded tyrant like Rífíor?

No. I can’t let that happen.

“Kill him!” Amira orders me again.

I shake my head. “I’m not a cold-blooded murderer, Amira, and neither are you.”

“I will show you otherwise.”

Lurching forward, she goes for the sword, one hand gripping my wrist and the other attempting to pry my fingers away from the hilt.

I take several steps back, tightening my hold and turning sideways, away from her.

As we struggle, she drives me against the wall, slamming my shoulder hard. I have enough presence of mind to glance in Rífíor’s direction, fearing he might take advantage of the scuffle to attack us. He could easily use one of us as a hostage in order to procure passage out of Nido. But my quick glance reveals he has no interest in us. He’s still sitting motionless, head lowered, eyes closed—either oblivious to his fate or resigned to it, I can’t tell which.

As I free my sword arm from Amira’s grip and hide the rapier behind my back, using my body to keep her at bay, I entreat her, “Please sister, you’re better than this, better than him and Orys. Remember Mother’s love and gentleness toward everyone. Remember all the things Father taught you. He was a good king, and you will be as good for Castella as he was. Don’t let evil change you.”

Relinquishing her struggle, her body goes limp against mine, and she begins to cry, her shoulders shaking as she sobs. I wrap an arm around her and hold her tight. I dare to think I’ve gotten through to her, but then she pushes away from me with a frustrated growl and glares at me.

“No!” she hisses. “I will not be weak.”

“It’s not weakness to aim for peace.”

She bares her teeth and points at me. I wait for her to argue further, but instead, she whirls and marches down the corridor, disappearing around the bend.

For a long moment, I remain slumped against the wall, the backs of my eyes burning as I wonder if I have lost her forever.

“In the frailty of the soul, hatred finds its breeding ground,” Rífíor’s deep voice echoes from within the cell.

I startle, head whipping in his direction. I had forgotten he was there and can’t help but shudder at the truth behind his words. Chest heaving, heart beating out of control, I cautiously approach the cell, push it closed, and turn the key.

He doesn’t look at me and still appears indifferent, but clearly, he’s not as oblivious as he would have us believe.

I take several steps away from the cell until I can’t see him anymore. The rapier trembles in my grip as an idea enters my mind. I shy away from it, try not to let it take shape, but it takes root without my permission, driven by the force of fear for my sister.

Shaking my head, I try to hide from the notion. It would mean going against Amira, and I don’t know if I have the courage, if I’m willing to prove to her that she’s right to distrust me. She is the queen whether I like it or not. The gods didn’t choose me to lead Castella and make the difficult choices required of a leader. My sister was given that task. I have to let it go. I have to stand down. It’s the right thing to do for someone in my position.

But if that is true, why can’t I push away the certainty that if I don’t intervene to alter Amira’s chosen path, the entire realm will suffer the consequences? Why do I feel that inaction will condemn me to a life consumed by regret?

RíFíOR

Echoes of their voices linger, crashing between me and the damp walls.

“Kill him!” the queen ordered Valeria.

I wish she would have.

Nothing makes sense anymore. The Eldrystone refused its power to me, and without it, my entire purpose for being is gone. It makes no difference if I am here in this cell or elsewhere. I am stranded in this godsforsaken realm regardless. It makes no difference if I live or die.

My kin and I will forever be trapped in Castella. It is worse than a death sentence.

This realm and its people are of no importance to me.

Valeria was a misstep. Nothing more.

She might have been useful if she slit my throat. Maybe their senseless laws will do the job. A walk up the gallows cannot come swiftly enough.