Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

28. CHAPTER 28

28

VALERIA

“We have to leave. Quick. I don’t know where we are going, but my magic tells me something very bad is about to happen.”

Ciara Vron - Fae Outcast - 21 AV

A fter we hid, Gaspar produced a bedroll and spread it over the wagon’s floor to make it appear as if he had been sleeping.

Clever distraction on his part, I think, until I realize he means for us to actually use it. Physically, it’s possible, though only if we were willing to rest right next to each other, like arrows in a tightly packed quiver. That may be how he and his troop do it, but there’s no way I’ll lay my head down anywhere near Rífíor. Hiding in that compartment is as far as I’ll go.

“Have it your way. Good night,” Gaspar says, lying down right in the middle of the floor, Jago and my feet bracketing him on one side, and Rífíor’s on the other.

Normally, the troop stops for the night, leaving the road and setting up camp under the blanket of the dark sky. There, everyone sprawls out with abandon and unleashes their dreams without a care in the world. I witnessed some of their customs during my journey with them from Alsur to Castellina. It was the first time I ever felt free in my life. I doubt I’ll feel the same way this time around.

Soon enough, Gaspar is snoring, oblivious to our discomfort. But it isn’t so bad. I have Jago, and reclining against one another, we find enough relief to catch a few hours of sleep.

I wake up sometime later with a burning ache in my neck. Groggily, I rotate my head to ease the tightness. Jago’s is leaning heavily on me, which causes its own set of aches and pains. He’s sound asleep. At least one of us deserves some rest.

When I finish rubbing sleep out of my eyes, I find Rífíor staring directly at me. He makes no attempt to disguise his scrutiny, those black eyes as harsh and impenetrable as ever. His sharp cheekbones match the slope of his pointed ears.

“You snore,” he says.

“No, I don’t.” Oh, gods, do I?

He shrugs as if it makes no difference to him whether or not I believe him.

“So… why are we here?” he asks, his voice quiet, never disturbing the others. “What made you decide to open the veil?”

I bite my lower lip. I don’t want to tell him. Amira’s scheme is shameful and admitting that any member of my family is capable of such a terrible idea is difficult. Moreover, I know he’ll be furious, and he’s threatening enough as it is. But he’s going to find out one way or another, and by all the gods, I refuse to let fear dictate my actions. So, without a preamble, I tell him the truth.

“My sister and the council plan to relocate all the fae to a guarded section of the city.”

“You’re talking about internment,” he says, eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

“Yes, internment,” I repeat, doing my best to take whatever responsibility I must for the turn of events. “I tried to stop her, but I failed. I couldn’t make her or the council listen to me. I don’t agree with what they’re doing, and though my sister will forever see my actions as a betrayal, I believe reopening the veil is the only solution. That’s why we’re here.”

He’s quiet for a long time, then seems to take a moment to dispel his anger. When his expression relaxes, he says, “I must thank you, Princess Valeria.”

I do a double-take. “Did they switch you with someone else in the dungeon?”

“You may think me a senseless savage, but everything I have ever done is to protect my people.”

I sneer. “How do you figure chaos and destruction do that?”

Too many times, Calierin used her powerful espiritu to blow up buildings, while the others caused further terror and stole whatever they could in the turmoil. Innocent people often died in those attacks.

“The big majority of the fae trapped in this realm live in poverty,” he says. “They try to find jobs, but few do, and you know well why. If we destroyed your fancy buildings, if we stole, it was to provide for them.”

I shake my head in denial. He’s lying. He must be lying. Everything that comes out of his mouth is a falsehood. They sowed terror because they hate us.

“I can see you don’t believe me.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t deny that I was also searching for The Eldrystone. I thought I might find it hiding in the safety vaults used by your nobility. I hoped your father had confined its safekeeping to one of these places. Though, deep down I knew, I would have to infiltrate Nido to find it.”

And did that include seducing the na?ve princess? I want to ask, but I have to leave all of that in the past. I can’t let what happened between us cloud my judgment and actions from here on out. It won’t be easy. He stirs so many emotions in me, hatred and anger the strongest of them, but there’s also… desire, which I fear .

“I thought I would be able to use it for this very purpose,” he continues. “To guide my people back to their homes, to save them from living their long lives as pariahs.”

“Do all those lies help you sleep better at night?” I ask. “You wanted to destroy us, not save your people. The moment you laid your hands on the amulet, you tried to use it against us.”

I hold his gaze expecting him to deny my accusation. He keeps eye contact for a few seconds, then looks down, a sure admission of guilt. If The Eldrystone had responded to him in Amira’s bedchamber, I fear the entirety of Castella would be a pile of rubble right now.

“You’re a monster,” the whispered words are out of my lips before I can stop them.

He doesn’t try to deny it. Instead, he looks up at me, and in that moment, I understand I’m not the only one who believes it. He does too.

“Why?” I ask.

His already hardened expression grows even more stern. Whatever events shaped him into who he is… he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. Despite his youthful appearance—perhaps around twenty-seven or twenty-eight—his dark eyes, unchanged by any glamour, betray a different story. He could be a hundred, two hundred years old. More? Only the gods know what trials and tribulations he might have endured over such a lengthy existence. Still, I don’t think anything can justify his desire for destruction.

“The why doesn’t matter,” he says at last. “I am who I am.”

Closing his eyes, he reclines his head and crosses his arms, acting as if he’s finally decided to go to sleep. I sit there quietly, my mind turning with possibilities. I don’t sleep, and I know he doesn’t either. It’s easy to see he’s wide awake, his own thoughts whirling after our conversation.

If I could take a glimpse into his mind and read all his secrets like a book, would I understand him? Would I forgive him ?

Inevitably, I turn the question inward.

To Amira, I’m a traitor. Would it change her mind if I were laid bare before her? I’d like to think so.

But if you want Amira to give you a chance, shouldn’t you do the same for him? The voice of fairness asks within my mind.