Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

25. CHAPTER 25

25

VALERIA

“La Matadora is yours now, son. See that you kill many enemies with its sharp blade.”

Rey Vicente Plumanegra (Casa Plumanegra) - King of Castella - 1981 BV

W e stand frozen under the gently swaying banners that hang high above us. The vestibule is open, with balconies running all around it on the second level. It’s a wide-open area, the worst possible place to get caught. There is nowhere to hide. Our only hope is to slide behind one of the columns that hold up the balconies.

“Here!” I urge Rífíor.

As I slip behind the thick pillar, I stand sideways and make sure to stay out of sight of the approaching steps. A moment later, Rífíor stands directly behind me, so close that I can feel his warmth. I stiffen, feeling a heated blush go up my neck.

As the guards move across the vestibule, I take small steps forward, rounding the column to make sure we remain hidden. The entire time Rífíor is right behind me, matching my movements. I feel his breath near my ear, and I want to scream. This proximity is painful, a reminder of all his lies and the way he used me .

It seems like forever before the guards pass and move on. I’m about to step out of our hiding place when Rífíor takes hold of my waist and yanks me back, and I end up flush against his torso, his long fingers circling my waist.

For an instant, I’m confused and think of Bastien pulling me tightly against him, wanting something I can’t give him. But when I hear more steps accompanied by my sister’s voice, I realize there’s more than the guards to worry about.

“Why would she take the amulet, Renata?” Amira asks in a pained tone. “What does she intend to do with it? By the saints! I never thought she would betray me like this.”

“She’s only misguided, Your Majesty,” Renata says. “I’m sure she thinks she’s doing the right thing.”

“No. We talked about this. She knows what going against me means.”

Her words cut me deep. I don’t mean to betray her. I mean to save her from making a terrible mistake. I only want what’s best for her and Castella. I don’t want her throne, which is what she seems to be implying.

I take a step forward without even thinking. I want to tell her once more what a terrible mistake she’s making. Maybe if I find the right words, I will be able to change her mind this time.

Rífíor’s hands tighten around my waist and keep me in place as Amira and her adviser rush across the vestibule after the guards. They’re headed to my bedchamber, which they’ll find empty. After that, Amira will send her guards all over Nido and Castellina, and if we’re not out of here already, Rífíor will end up back in a dungeon cell with me as company.

Once everyone is out of earshot, I jerk away from Rífíor and throw him a nasty glare over my shoulder.

“Keep your hands off me,” I sneer.

He inclines his head. “As you wish, princess.”

“Besides, you reek,” I retort, hoping to embarrass him .

He shrugs as if it’s all the same to him. “Not through any fault of my own. You really should treat your prisoners better.”

I would give him a detailed list of all the ways I’d like to treat him and depriving him of a bath is the least of the nasty afflictions he should suffer. But we don’t have time for that, so I hurry across the vestibule and dash down the passage from where the guards and my sister emerged.

We have to hide a few more times before we make it to the small library. We find more guards than normal rushing through the corridors, likely on their way to join the first group we encountered. Regardless, we get there unnoticed.

I hate that I have to let Rífíor know about another secret passage in Nido. We already had to seal one, and this one will have to follow the same fate. Luckily, there are others. I’ll just have to safeguard their existence and location more fiercely from now on.

Reaching behind a bookcase, I retrieve the gas lamp and the two rucksacks I stashed there earlier and toss one to Rífíor. He catches it one-handed and weighs it up and down.

“Just a few supplies and coin,” I say by way of explanation.

My rucksack also contains my Plumanegra key, which may come in handy to prove my identity.

Next, I pull out Father’s fae-made sword: La Matadora. The blade is immune to espiritu. It’s been hanging on a wall for a long time, but if I’m going to Tirnanog, it will be more useful than a rapier—even if I can’t wield it as dexterously. I hang it across my back.

Frowning, he peers at La Matadora. “Where is my weapon?”

I shrug. “I didn’t think arming you would be wise.”

“I beg to disagree.” He looks around the room, his dark eyes quickly alighting on a sword inside a display case. There are too many in Nido, I realize in frustration. With firm steps, he walks to it and takes it out.

Puta madre !

“This is the only type of supply I need,” he says, effortlessly twirling the weapon with a mastery that seems as natural as drawing breath.

I stare at the blade warily. I should have foreseen this. I want to tell him to leave it, that it doesn’t belong to him, but the sword is also fae-made, a forgotten gift one or another Plumanegra received a long time ago from our once-allies. I can only hope it’ll serve us better in hand than behind glass.

“Don’t worry, Princess,” he says with a smirk. “You are safe with me.”

“As safe as I was in those catacombs?” I sneer.

“You are alive, aren’t you?” He scans me up and down as if to indicate no harm came to me.

But there’s harm that can’t be seen, and sometimes that’s the worst kind. I have managed to keep the nightmares at bay, but it’s not easy. It requires constant effort and vigilance. I miss the days when I could close my eyes and drift away to sleep, surrounded by happy thoughts and memories. Now, thanks to this male, I’ll never have that again. He doesn’t need to know that, though. He and his damn sorceress didn’t break me.

“You’re an asshole, Rífíor of the Veilfallen, but I’m sure you already know that.” I turn, face the bookshelf at the end of the room, and brace my hands against its sides. I push it with all my weight, but it doesn’t click as it’s supposed to.

Annoyed, I turn to Rífíor and say, “You do it.”

With incredible ease, he pushes on it and causes the desired click. One end of the bookshelf swings open like a door, revealing a gloomy passage. I light the gas lamp and charge in, slicing the darkness in two. Rífíor sets the bookshelf back in place without me asking, leaving only the small flame to eliminate our space.

I’m reminded of going through a similar passage with Jago not so long ago. Too bad it isn’t my cousin who accompanies me now. Instead, it’s a male I despise, someone who might slice my throat for the fun of it .

All the questions that have been plaguing me since this plan took shape come back in earnest. What if he escapes and rejoins the veilfallen? What if he takes The Eldrystone from me? What if we fail and I make an enemy of my sister for no reason?

Shaking my head, I dismiss all those thoughts. It’s too late to second-guess myself. From now on, I must be committed and do everything within my power to reach the border and open the veil.

At first, the passage is surrounded by man-made walls, but as we progress, they suddenly transition to natural stone, giving way to the caverns I know rest beneath Nido. The passage grows tight, and Rífíor has to hunch down to avoid hitting his head. Progress is sluggish as we navigate through what could easily be labeled as the palace’s bowels. The passages are narrow and twisted enough to warrant such a description.

It is only thirty minutes later that the path ahead opens up, and we’re able to walk unencumbered. We sit at a crossroads, and I remember well I must walk up the middle slope to reach the exit. Father drilled Amira and I many times about all the secret passages in the palace. He made sure we knew how to traverse each one of them without getting lost. It’s amazing how sturdy the memories still feel inside my mind.

When we reach the end of the slope, we encounter two narrow ledges extending to our left and right. They’re barely wide enough for a single adult to sidle along.

Hanging the rucksack from my neck and repositioning it to my front, I press my back to the wall and take the ledge to the left, arms out for balance. Rífíor gives me a narrowed-eyed look but doesn’t question my actions. Instead, he follows, the tips of his boots protruding from the ledge by about an inch. A thirty-foot drop looms below.

I focus my gaze on the concave ceiling, determined not to think of myself broken and dead at the bottom. Slowly, I shuffle my way to a recess big enough for two. Before I can say anything, Rífíor steps into the space with me, once more pinning me against his body.

Saints and feathers! Really?

“I fear you have driven us into a dead end, Princess,” he says, the rumble of his voice directly behind my ear.

“I have not, and you must step back onto the ledge if you want us to get out of here.”

He grunts but doesn’t argue. Once he’s out of the recess, I locate the footholds and handholds embedded in the wall and begin climbing up the vertical channel that extends overhead. It isn’t easy to ascend while holding the gas lamp, but I manage.

Once at the top, moonlight seeps through a metal grate and fresh air whistles down the tunnel. Pressing one shoulder to the grate, I push. It takes a moment to dislodge the obstacle—it’s been in place for a long time without disturbance—but eventually, it comes loose. Relieved, I push it out of the way with my free hand.

Setting the lamp outside, I climb the rest of the way and crawl to a patch of grass where I sit to catch my breath. A moment later Rífíor emerges from the hole and crouches next to the lamp. Quickly, he puts it out and replaces the grate, making as little noise as possible. Tall grass surrounds us. He stretches his neck to look over it, surely to determine our position.

“We’re a good distance from Nido,” he points out.

“Let’s keep going.” I climb to my feet but remain in a crouch.

“I hope you have some sort of plan. Your sister seemed mad and is sure to send guards after us .”

He sounds slightly amused. No doubt it delights him to find that I’m at odds with Amira.

“Shut your mouth and follow me,” I bite out the words. I have no patience for him.

Gods! If it were up to me, he wouldn’t say another word until we reached the veil .

A thought occurs to me, and I smirk. Maybe some binding rope and a gag will appear in his near future—I’m the one in charge of this expedition, after all.

My smirk dies when he says, “Watch how you talk to me.”

Losing my patience, I whirl on him. “Or what? You have no magic to torture me, and your friend isn’t here to do your dirty work for you.”

Before I realize what’s happening, Rífíor is on me, using the weight of his body to push me against the trunk of a tree, caging me in.

“You’re infuriating,” he rumbles, his nose practically touching mine. “I should…”

My insides tremble with instinctual fear, and my mind offers reason to combat it… He won’t hurt you. He wants the veil reopened. I’m his only hope.

But logic has no power over the gut-wrenching certainty that he’ll eat me alive. He looks feral enough, his sharp fae features amplified by the shadows, his black eyes swallowing all the light, threatening to suck me in and leave me adrift in a sea of darkness.

I clench my teeth to stop my chin from quivering. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he scares the shit out of me. This bastardo’s intention is to intimidate me, and I can’t let him know that a mere glance and a growl in that deep voice are all it takes. No, I need to establish boundaries and make it clear that he should fear me instead.

“Should what?” I demand. “Beat me? No doubt you would manage wonderfully since you’re a big brute. But you don’t scare me.”

“Are you sure about that, Princess?” His gaze falls to my mouth, and quickly comes back up.

“Absolutely,” I reply. “And you know why? Because I have power over you, Rífíor of the Veilfallen. Because without me, you’ll never make it back to Tirnanog, and you’d still be rotting in that cell, feeling sorry for yourself. The Eldrystone burned and branded my sister, but for you, it didn’t care enough to muster even a hint of espiritu. Honestly, I think Niamhara couldn’t care less whether you live or die.”

A growl sounds in the back of his throat, and I know I got to him. It’s time to press my advantage.

“So, from now on, you’ll keep your offensive presence away from mine. Five paces, at least. Is that clear? If you don’t, I’ll make certain you never walk across the threshold between Castella and your realm. I swear it to all the gods.”

True fear—terror, even—enters his expression for a split second, but it’s gone so fast I have to wonder if I imagined it, especially because when he speaks, his voice is as firm and intimidating as ever.

“You’re playing with fire, Valeria Plumanegra.”

“It doesn’t concern me. If you’re fire, then I’m water.”

What? Did I really just say that? Oh, Gods! That sounded as dramatic as something Emerito would have said.

“Water, huh?” he says, his teeth flashing a condescending grin. “You don’t even have The Eldrystone with you right now. Is it still in the possession of that abominable bird? How can you be so careless with such power?”

I shrug. “True, so do your worst while you can. I dare you. Kill me if you will. That will only ensure you never get out of here. Hit me, and you’ll ensure the same fate. Either way, lay a finger on me and see what happens.” I lift my chin up, unintentionally bringing my mouth closer to his. I realize my mistake too late, but I don’t back down. I’m not afraid of his physical threats, no matter their nature.

He flinches at my words. “I am not an animal, Valeria. I would never lay a finger on you. Not like that, anyway.” He smiles sadly, then, very slowly, takes several paces away from me. He stops, exactly at five. “You have nothing to fear from me. As you well understand, my most ardent desire is to return to my home. In over two decades, this is the first time a real possibility has presented itself. I will not throw it away. I will make one thing clear, however, I am not your friend. I am your enemy. Do not ever forget that.”

“It’s you who should never forget it,” I sneer. “I’m not doing this for you. There’s another reason, a good reason that doesn’t take into account the motivations of a selfish bastardo like you. You’re only here because you’re necessary. If there was anyone else who could help me, I would have left you behind, rotting away. What you have done can’t be forgotten, much less forgiven. I’ll forever consider you my enemy. I will forever hate you.”

“Hate me all you want, Little Princess. It means nothing to me.” He whirls on his heel, and I can’t see his expression as he finishes his declaration. Maybe I imagined it, but there was a certain hitch in his voice when he said it meant nothing to him.

Perhaps there was, but either way, it doesn’t change how I feel.