Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

32. CHAPTER 32

32

VALERIA

“My only hope for survival is leaving the realm.”

Loreleia Elhice - Mate Rite Candidate - 1999 DV

H ours later, we find ourselves on the road. To my relief, Rífíor was of the same mind as me and thought it would be better for Calierin and Kadewyn to follow us at a distance, unnoticed. They’re to be our scouts and keep an eye on the road ahead as well as behind us.

Despite the sorceress’s presence, knowing that we’re guarded eases my mind a bit. We will have proper warning if guards come searching for us again. This allows us to leave the stuffy wagon to walk alongside the horses when we slow or take a rest. Another advantage is not having to be cooped up with Rífíor in that cramped space. He prefers walking most of the time, even when the pace intensifies. He seems tireless, able to keep up thanks to his fae speed.

As Jago and I exit the wagon for one of our walking stints, he braces his hands around his waist and arches his back, stretching and causing his joints to pop.

“I swear I would be willing to walk all the way there,” he says. “I hate that wagon. It reeks of unwashed Rífíor.”

I chuckle. He isn’t wrong. It really stinks in there.

We walk for a few minutes in silence. Cuervo flies overhead. I watch him catch the currents, easily gliding through the air, not a flap of his wings needed. A pang of longing hits my chest as I imagine flying alongside him, a warm breeze caressing my face. So many times I’ve wished to know if I inherited Father’s abilities, if I would be able to shift were the veil still connecting us to Tirnanog, and espiritu still flowing between the realms.

Jago’s question pulls me back to reality. “What do you think he’s hiding?”

“Rífíor, you mean?” I ask.

He nods.

I shake my head. “I don’t know for sure, but I think he had something to do with the veil’s collapse. He says my mother did it, but—”

“Your mother? That’s crazy.”

I have avoided the conversation with Jago for fear of where it might lead. “That’s what I thought at first, but now, I believe him.”

He frowns. “You’re joking, right?”

“Like Nana said, my mother did have The Eldrystone in her possession, Jago. Whether she took it from Rífíor or the Fae King, she had something that didn’t belong to her—not by a long shot. I’m sure she had a good reason. I do believe that. The question is… what role does Rífíor play in all of that? He was aware that Niamhara’s conduit was in Castella, and that my mother had it. That means they knew each other. Something happened between them.”

Jago makes a face. “You mean like…”

“No! Not like that.”

Gods! I hope not.

This turn in the conversation is what I was afraid of.

“Um, hey, you looked impressive back there,” he says, quickly changing the subject. “Almost like your mother’s daughter. The amulet did good by you this time. ”

“It did. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but I had to confront her, Jago. I had to prove to myself and to her that I’m not afraid of her.”

“I’m glad it didn’t hang you out to dry then. I wouldn’t like a fried egg for a cousin.”

“Ha ha.”

He winks, lifting my spirits.

After another quiet moment, I say. “The sight of her still makes me sick to my stomach, though. All that she did to me, all she made me see, it’s so hard to keep it all locked inside.”

He comes close and wraps an arm around me. “I’m sorry, Val. You can talk to me about it.”

I shake my head, unable to go on.

“It’s not because you’re embarrassed, is it? Because you shouldn’t be. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know. I know. It’s just… I’m trying to keep it all out of my mind, so talking about it defeats the purpose.”

“And that’s working for you?”

“For the most part. At least the nightmares stopped.” I give him a wry smile. “But seeing her… I don’t know… it brought some of those emotions back up.”

“I can’t even imagine how you must feel. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. ”

I swallow hard.

“Hey, you confronted her.” He gives me a squeeze. “She has no power over you. You were absolutely amazing.”

I smile, knowing it was all thanks to the amulet. Without it, I would probably run and hide.

“And same as I’m here if you need to talk, I’m also here if you need help kicking her ass again, all right? Just name the time and place and I’ll come.”

We both laugh, and he bumps his hip against mine.

“Have I told you how lucky I am to have you?” I ask.

“Maybe.”

“Well, I am. If it weren’t for you, I would be alone in all of this.”

“And if it weren’t for you, I would be napping in my room or enjoying the next vintage in the cellar.”

I push him, and he staggers away, laughing.

We go around a bend in the road, and I’m startled by someone’s presence, sitting on a fallen log. It’s Rífíor, chewing on a blade of grass. His legs are crossed at the ankles, and the way he is looking at me lets me know he heard everything Jago and I were talking about.

Damn fae hearing!

I need to remember that out of sight shouldn’t mean out of mind with him. I hated that he heard how vulnerable Calierin makes me feel, how the torment they put me through sits on me like a stain I may never get rid of.

“ Bastardo! ” I whisper as we pass, sure that he also heard that.

“No worries. I don’t think he overheard,” Jago pauses. “ Pshaw , who am I kidding? Of course, he did. But don’t worry, we’ll be rid of him soon.”

Rífíor stays behind, while Jago and I continue walking behind the wagon. We’re quiet for a long time before Jago starts a new conversation.

“So… tell me about Esmeralda.”

I glanced at him sidelong, arching my eyebrows and putting on a teasing smirk.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says. “She’s beautiful. I’m smitten.” He clutches his heart, trying to sound carefree, but it doesn’t work. His natural state is already nonchalant, so trying to act as if he doesn’t care makes him look foolish. It’s as if Cuervo were trying to don a cloak of black feathers.

I open my mouth to tease him about it, but then stop myself. I don’t want to deter him from what could be his first real crush in a long time. Though maybe I should. It’s Esmeralda we’re dealing with, after all. She’s as shrewd as they come—not that Jago might not benefit from a little of his own medicine. Ever since he developed into the handsome man that he is, he has broken countless hearts, never apologizing for any of his actions. Honestly, I’m torn. I don’t want him to get his heart broken, but I’m afraid he will never learn to be a better man if he doesn’t meet his match, and maybe Esmeralda is exactly that.

“What can you tell me about her?” he asks.

“I don’t know much about her besides what I learned during the brief time I spent with them. She travels with the troop and sells poultices and draughts. She learned the trade from her mother. I met her, too. She doesn’t travel and stays back in Castellina because she’s sick. I can tell Esmeralda worries about her a lot.”

“Any siblings? A dad?” he asks.

“I don’t think so.”

“What about a… boyfriend?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t mention one.”

He smiles, looking satisfied.

“Um, I think she’s a pickpocket,” I say.

“What? Are you serious?”

“Yes. On our way back from Alsur, we stopped in a small town. She pretended to bump into a man, and the next thing I knew, we were running. He called us thieves and yelled for the guardias. It turns out she took his money bag.”

Instead of looking concerned, Jago seems amused. “I guess I better hold on to my valuables.” He laughs.

“I don’t think it’s funny. I think it’s dangerous, and one day she’ll get caught.”

“And then she’ll hang, unlike you and me, no matter who we murder.” There’s sarcasm in his tone, but we both know it’s not far from the truth .

In our realm, not everyone gets what they earn, and not everyone gets what they deserve. I wish I could change that, but it’s unrealistic, given our greedy human nature. I smile sadly to myself. It seems I might grow up to be a philosopher.

That day, we don’t stop for a midday meal. Instead, we ride until late afternoon, then find a place off road to eat dinner and sleep. The sun hasn’t fully gone down, and the sky is tainted in beautiful colors that soothe my mood. A river runs nearby, the sounds also calming my senses. Once more, we stay away from the rest of the troop. Rífíor tends to the horses, making himself useful. Gaspar seems grateful for the help, and immediately starts cooking, claiming a hunger big enough to eat a dragon.

When I offer to help Esmeralda chop the vegetables for Gaspar’s soup, Jago, who only enters a kitchen to pilfer freshly baked rolls, promptly volunteers to lend her a hand instead.

Stepping aside, I find myself idle, my attention promptly ensnared by Rífíor’s lithe, graceful movements. The muscles in his forearms flex as he removes the horses’ harness and pats their necks. His trousers tighten over his backside as he bends to check their hooves. When he catches me looking, I pretend disinterest and bend down to tie my already tied boots. I mumble curses under my breath.

Calierin and Kadewyn are supposed to be keeping an eye on the surrounding areas, ensuring no guardias are near, but I don’t fully trust them—no matter what Niamhara thinks. I wouldn’t put it past Calierin to betray us.

Planning to do my own reconnaissance, I glance around, searching for an easy-to-climb, tall tree. After a quick scan of the woods, I spot the perfect one across the clearing. I pass in front of Rífíor as I make my way there, but I keep my gaze straight ahead. I feel his attention on me, almost like a touch.

Doing my best to ignore him, I reach the tree and begin climbing, easily finding handholds to pull myself up higher and higher. If there is a tree within Nido’s walls that can be climbed, I have climbed it. When I was little, it was one of my favorite pastimes. I could outdo anyone, including Jago, who was very careless and willing to try anything just to beat me. However, he simply didn’t possess the skill. He used to joke that Mother’s ancestors were monkeys. I whacked him in the head with a stick for being so rude and spent an hour kneeling in a corner because I drew blood. Nana’s punishments were ruthless sometimes.

Before long, I find myself at the top of the tree about forty feet off the ground. From my vantage point, I can see everything. I see the skyline, dancing with different hues of orange and pink. I see parts of the road we’ve been following, meandering around patches of forest and steady heading west. I see the rest of the troop some distance away, busying themselves with their own tasks to procure dinner and care for the horses. I see the river we heard earlier. It gurgles with clear water and runs across the land in very much the same way as the road.

What I don’t see is our friends, Calierin and Kadewyn. Not that I expect to. They’re meant to stay hidden, unnoticed. So I guess that’s a good thing, as good as the fact that I don’t see any guardias either.

After I’m satisfied with my surveillance, I find that I don’t want to get back down to earth. I’d rather stay here closer to the clouds, the fresh air caressing my face and stirring my hair. Inevitably, my thoughts steer toward Amira. I grab a hold of The Eldrystone and wonder how she’s doing, what she’s thinking. My chest tightens with a mix of emotions.

Will she let me explain myself when all of this is said and done? Will she even want to see me? Will she think of me as a friend or an enemy? Will her eyes hold the same sisterly love it always has? Perhaps I’m being too hopeful with these questions. Perhaps a better question would be… will she allow me to live or decree my execution ?

I shake my head, trying to chase the thoughts away. I shove them in a separate corner of my mind and draw the curtain closed. I’ve shoved many things in there lately. For the longest time, that room only existed to hold memories of Mother’s death, but recently, there’s been no shortage of troubling matters that also need to be stored away.

Turning my back on that hidden room, leaving behind the horror of my parents’ deaths, Bastien’s betrayal, Calierin’s torture, and all the questions about my sister, I focus on nothing else but the peaceful swaying motion of the trees and the distant gurgling of the river.

After some time of quiet contemplation, a splashing sound captures my attention. I glance in its direction to find someone bathing in the river. No, not just someone, Rífíor. He has jumped in, clothes and all. I can tell it’s him even from up here. His jet-black hair and wide shoulders are unmistakable.

“About time,” I murmur. The smell of dungeon inside the wagon was getting unbearable.

From the safety of my perch, I watch him swim to and fro. He seems at ease in the water. In fact, he seems to fit right in with nature, as if he couldn’t possibly belong anywhere else.

After a good soak, he rubs vigorously at his clothes without taking them off. After thoroughly scrubbing them, he walks to the shore and removes his shirt. Twisting it, he expresses all the water, then hangs it from a branch. The perfect lines of his chest ensnare my gaze, and I find myself admiring the expanse of smooth skin, and the ridges and valleys of his abdomen that narrow down to his waist, where a trail of dark hair disappears under his trousers. I catch my lower lip between my teeth, telling myself I should look away.

He proceeds to remove his pants then.

You definitely should look away now , Val .

But I can’t. I’m hypnotized and suddenly reliving that night we spent together. The tip of his tongue running along my upper lip. The press on his body on top of mine. The silver scars across his chest.

“Damn, is there anything about you that won’t make me lose my mind? … This is not about altruism, Princess. I want to fuck you. This night, you are mine.”

He twists his pants in the same fashion as his shirt, but I’m barely aware of this. Instead, I’m mesmerized by the way water sluices down his strong thighs. The way his hip bones jut out. The way his powerful shaft hangs between his legs.

A hot jolt strikes my core, and warm moisture seeps between my legs.

Gods! What’s wrong with me? Why does he make me feel this way? Why does my body want him when my mind easily finds a million reasons to hate him?

Suddenly, Rífíor goes still.

I stiffen, fearing he has perceived some sort of danger. He’s attentive for a frozen moment, head cocked to one side, then his dark eyes flick directly to mine.

A second jolt of desire hits my core, followed by the heat of a blush.

Gods! Smite this tree and take me down with it.

No such luck.

Cheeks burning, I climb down the tree and, when I reach the bottom, sink to my haunches and hide my face in my hands.

For the love of all the gods, what is he going to think now?