Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

34. CHAPTER 34

34

VALERIA

“Rífíor of the Veilfallen asked for it. The pay is too good to turn down. I’m going after him.”

Galen Síocháin - Fae Sorcerer - 21 AV

I spend the next week hating myself and regretting my actions. I hate him is a mantra that repeats itself over and over.

I hate myself and this irresistible attraction I feel for Rífíor. It’s an infection, an incurable one at that. Every time the memory assaults me, shame burns in my cheeks.

Today, as I sit alone inside the wagon, it’s no different. We’re heading steadily west on our journey to the veil. I’m grateful to be alone while Gaspar sits with the driver, and my cousin and Rífíor walk outside.

Jago asked me to come out and get some fresh air, but if he keeps seeing my distracted expression, he will interrogate me until he figures out the reason. Instead, I made excuses and stayed here, hiding like a coward, the way I’ve been doing all week.

As much as I try to condemn my weakness, however, I can’t help but relive the exhilaration of that night every day without fail. The way Rífíor knew exactly where and how to touch me, the way his supple mouth dispensed kisses along my jaw, tantalizingly close to my lips, while his daring fingers reduced me to nothing but a bundle of sensations that promised to light up my world, then promptly and thoroughly delivered on that promise.

The only redeeming aspect is that I didn’t allow his mouth to touch mine. At least that’s what I keep telling myself since I did allow him to reach more private places. Except it does mean something, doesn’t it? Because his dark eyes glinted at the request. He wanted sex as much as I did, but not more. So my request was evidently welcome.

You’re a fool, Valeria.

A fool in need of a jolt to the head that will make me stop hoping he’ll come to me again as I’ve been expecting every night since then, just to feel great relief when he stays away.

At the brink of pulling on my hair and screaming, I opt to exit the wagon and join Jago. Remaining inside, allowing my thoughts to fester, feels even more unbearable than enduring Jago’s abnormally astute questions.

Throwing the door open, I set La Matadora behind my back. I’m poised to step onto the ground when my ears start ringing and my heart hammers like a giant fist, erasing all the nonsense from my mind. What’s happening? This is the third time I’ve felt this way since we left Castellina. The first time was when I woke up as guards approached the wagon, and the second time was right before Calierin and Kadewyn ambushed us. It seems like every time there’s danger I—

Rífíor suddenly emerges from the side, brandishing his sword. Assuming a menacing stance, he positions himself in the middle of the road with his back to me. The muscles of his wide back ripple as he twirls the sword.

“What is it?” I jump off the wagon, my razor-sharp survival instinct kicking into action.

He answers, without glancing back. “Hooves. Many and fast. Twenty horses or more. ”

Oh, shit!

“Not Calierin or Kadewyn then?”

“No.”

Just as the word comes out of Rífíor’s mouth, Kadewyn suddenly arrives from the side, riding in a thunder of motion. His horse leaps over the thick brush and skids to a stop.

“Royal guards!” he shouts.

“What the fuck?” Rífíor demands. “Why did you let them—”

“I didn’t let them anything ,” Kadewyn cuts him off. “They have magic and hid their progress. I didn’t spot them until they were too close.”

Rífíor curses, using words I don’t understand.

Jago is there in the next instant. “Hurry, Val, let’s hide.” He starts to climb onto the wagon.

Rífíor growls in frustration. “If they have magic, they will find us. We might as well hand ourselves over if we trap ourselves in there.”

“Then what do we do?” Jago asks just as the beat of hooves reaches my ears and sends my heart into a matching gallop.

“Use your amulet,” Kadewyn says. “Only magic will hide you from them.”

Swiftly, I reach for it under my tunic, expecting to feel its warmth, but it’s cold to the touch, unresponsive like before. Dammit!

I shake my head. “It’s not working.”

“What?” Jago punches the air.

“Then ride with me.” Kadewyn extends a hand in my direction. “Quick, come on!”

I hesitate.

“No!” Jago protests. “We have to stay together. Try it again.”

I squeeze the amulet tightly. Please, please, work! They all watch me intently, but Niamhara has decided to abandon us again.

“Nothing,” I say.

“ Puta madre! ” Jago curses.

“We need to ride then, catch up to Calierin.” Kadewyn offers me his hand again. “Her magic is the only thing that can save you now.”

Rífíor lets out a frustrated growl. “Valeria, Kadewyn is right. Ride with him. I will run alongside and keep up until we reach Calierin.”

“Val.” Jago puts a hand on my shoulder, his expression conflicted.

“Jago.”

I see the logic in what Rífíor and Kadewyn are saying, but I can’t leave my cousin. They’ll bring him back to Castellina, and there’s no telling what punishment Amira might devise for him in her state of mind.

He must see something in my expression because he squeezes me and gives me a resigned nod. “Go, I’ll be all right.”

“Amira is out of her mind,” I said. “She might…”

“I’ll be fine. She wouldn’t hurt me. I’m her favorite cousin, remember?” He smiles sadly.

“You’re her only cousin, you idiot.”

“Exactly.”

“Hurry!” Rífíor growls. “They’re close.”

Jago gives me a tight squeeze. “Go get them. Fix this mess. Go, go!” He pushes me toward Kadewyn, whose hand is still stretched out in my direction. “Wait!” He jumps into the wagon and tosses out our rucksacks. “Take this.” We both catch them.

“Thank you,” I mouth.

Brimming with fear and guilt, I take Kadewyn’s hand. With one swift pull, he yanks me onto the horse. I throw my leg over the animal’s hindquarters, take the mount, and wrap my arms around his waist.

“Ya!” He spurs the gelding forward.

The horse bucks, then takes off at full gallop. He steers us back the way they came. We leap over the bushes and dash through the forest, weaving in and out through the trees. I glance to the side and see Rífíor. He’s running, arms and legs pumping fast. It’s a sight to behold. I had no idea he could produce this kind of speed. Looking over my shoulder, I see nothing but the trees we’ve left behind—no sign of my cousin or the troop.

Gods, please let them be all right. Protect them from Amira’s anger.

I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to them, to Jago.

The gelding huffs and jumps over a dead log. I hold on to Kadewyn for dear life. Rífíor still follows, but he’s falling behind the further we go. It seems he can only maintain top speed for a short while. We keep heading west, the woods thickening, making the terrain harder to navigate. Soon, Kadewyn urges the horse back toward the road.

“Faster,” Rífíor shouts. “They’re coming.” He releases another burst of energy and catches up with us. His lips are peeled back as he exerts himself to the fullest.

Looking back, I catch a glimpse of our pursuers. I see at least five of them. One of them, the one in the lead, lifts a hand, holding a cloud of red magic.

“Shit! Where’s Calierin?” I shout.

“She’ll find us. She won’t miss this racket,” Kadewyn shouts back.

I guess she won’t, but she’d better hurry.

An orb of lethal espiritu hits the tree to our left. It burst into flames, causing the horse to shriek. The animal careens as Kadewyn steers it into the road. For a precarious moment, I fear we’ll topple over, but the gelding rights itself. Without stopping, we keep galloping, the open road stretching in front of us.

I glance back, waiting for Rífíor to break out of the woods, but he doesn’t. Where is he? A part of me is worried, but I know he’s all right. It’s safer for him to keep running through the woods. He can avoid the trees more easily than the horse can. He’s not lying dead on the ground, reduced to an espiritu-burnt piece of charcoal.

He’s fine. He’s fine .

He’ll be there to help me figure out how to reopen the veil. That’s the only reason I’m worried about him. If Amira’s sorcerer-for-hire did hurt him, I couldn’t care less if it weren’t for our mission.

“Calierin, where in the hells are you?” Kadewyn shouts to the winds.

As if summoned, she comes around the bend, her horse skidding and nearly falling into a ditch. She takes a moment to assess the situation, violet eyes homing in on our pursuers. She must spot danger because she braces her legs against the saddle, rears up, and shoots a veritable fountain of espiritu. It flies over our heads.

Instinctively, we both lean forward, making ourselves smaller. After it passes, I look back and watch the shimmering force collide against a vicious attack that was spiraling directly toward us. There’s a loud boom and sparks fly out in a circular pattern.

Saints and feathers! They’re willing to kill us, willing to kill me . Are these Amira’s orders? I can’t believe they are. The guards must be taking liberties. If I die, they’ll tell her it was an accident and call their mission to stop us accomplished.

Our horse reaches Calierin’s and throws its head back, letting out a loud whinny.

Expertly, she pulls on the reins and maneuvers her mount back the way she came. “Follow me,” she orders, then guides us around the bend. Quickly and taking advantage that we’re hidden from view, she veers into the forest. “This way.”

The animals break through the bushes, leaving obvious signs of our passage. However, a stream of Calierin’s espiritu smooths the vegetation over, erasing any trace of the disturbance.

“Where’s Rífíor?” I demand.

“I’m right here.” He appears as if out of thin air from behind. “Worried about me, Princess?”

“Of course, I was worried,” I spit. “Your expiration date isn’t until we open the veil. ”

“ Shh .” Kadewyn puts a finger to his lips.

Is this the plan, to hide so close to the road? I glare at Calierin, is she not going to use her espiritu to hide us? Panic mounting, I reach for The Eldrystone once more, but its power eludes me still.

Puta madre!

We’re all as still as statues. Even the horses are still. My heart beats in my ears, and though I strain to listen for our enemies’ approach, all I hear is its incessant pounding.

Rífíor stands in a crouch, sword in hand. He looks ready for anything, even if his expression betrays no worry. Does he have that much confidence in Calierin’s espiritu? I felt the ravages of her cruelty inside my mind, and I’ve used my blade to block her potent volleys. But can she be one with the gentle hand of nature? Can she help us blend in with the swaying foliage and let the birds’ song be the only sound of notice?

Hooves thunder in their approach. I bite the inside of my cheek and hold my breath. Our pursuers streak by. Relief begins to take shape. My shoulders relax a fraction.

Someone shouts, “Hold!”

The horses come to a sudden stop.

“This way,” the same voice calls.

Rífíor doesn’t wait. He darts into the road and charges, sword raised to mow down whoever stands in his way. Kadewyn and Calierin jump off their horses, matching Rífíor step for step. My hand flies to the hilt of Father’s sword at my back, but it freezes there.

No. No more death.

The guardias aren’t really our enemies. They’re my people. I can’t let this happen. I remove my hand from La Matadora and reach into my rucksack. Straightening and putting on an air of command, I follow the others, an irrefutable order issuing from my lips.

“Stop in the name of the Plumanegra Dominion,” I say, holding up my Plumanegra key .

There is enough force in my voice that it carries through the ranks. Fae and human alike halt in their tracks. Their gazes turn to me in a moment of hesitation I must take advantage of. I place the Plumanegra key in my pocket and take hold of The Eldrystone next, begging it to do its job… if it comes to it.

“I am Valeria Plumanegra and demand to know who’s in charge?”

Next to me, Rífíor lowers his head and tilts it in my direction. “This will not work,” he murmurs.

I ignore him.

A woman I’ve never met urges her horse forward from the back of the line. Four others accompany her. She cuts a formidable presence atop her sleek mount, flanked by a retinue of guardias and a figure clad in a heavy cloak, presumably the hired sorcerer. With a steely gaze fixed on me, her features betray nothing. Every line on her stern face speaks of resolve and duty.

“It is I,” she says.

“State your name and rank.” The bars on her left arm give me the answer, but it’s the customary question.

“Teniente Coronel Eva Toromayor, here on Capitán Armando Qui?ones’s orders and by extension the queen’s,” she responds in the clear tone inherent to her military training.

I open my mouth to issue an order, but she cuts me off.

“In the name of Queen Amira Plumanegra, you are under arrest.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I burst out. “Under what charge?”

“The charge is treason. Punishable by death.”

I nearly gasp. Is this what she’s been instructed to say to scare us? Or is it true? I hate that I don’t know the answer, that I fear my own sister wants me dead.

“Surrender your weapons or face the consequences,” she says .

I examine the faces of all those present, there are a couple that look familiar. Yet, there isn’t a shred of sympathy in their expressions. On the contrary, they appear irate.

The sorcerer slowly lifts his hands.

Rífíor tilts his face upward to meet the male’s eye and recognition widens his eyes. “Galen?”

The sorcerer’s eyes flick toward Rífíor. As if time has slowed, I watch his expression morph from determination to utter shock. He lowers his hood and blinks as if trying to wake up from a dream.

“It can’t be,” the sorcerer says in a rush of breath.

Before I can blink, Rífíor leaps, propelling himself off the ground as if on springs. Stuck in a time bubble, I watch him fly through the air, sword poised to cut the sorcerer down.

Calierin springs into action next, followed by Kadewyn.

Gods!

I can’t let this happen. If I do, there’s no telling who will be dead or alive in the end. Gripping The Eldrystone so hard my fingers ache, I pour all of my will into a command.

“STOP!”

The guardias, who have only begun to draw their swords, halt mid-maneuver. The horses freeze, their mouths open in a silent cry as spurs dig into their sides. Mouth falling open in horror, I watch as the skin of our pursuers begins to change color, turning gray.

I shake my head, convinced I’m imagining things. This isn’t—

As if he’s hit an invisible wall, Rífíor plummets to the ground with a heavy thud, his forward trajectory coming to a sudden stop. He growls and twists in pain, the sword falling from his hand.

“ Mallachtdorch! ” Kadewyn curses and rushes to Rífíor’s side. “What is wrong? Gods, your arm!”

There’s no answer from Rífíor, only more growling.

Kadewyn glances up at me, an accusation in his expression.

Still clutching The Eldrystone, I take two steps closer, afraid of what I’ll see. Rífíor’s teeth are bared, his strong features twisted up in agony. With monumental effort, he moves his arm to show me what I’ve done.

From his elbow to the tips of his fingers, his skin is gray and rough. As I stare, the color travels upward, reaching for his biceps. He twists and groans like a wounded beast. I don’t know what to make of what I’m seeing. My mind stutters as my eyes dance between the frozen guardias and Rífíor.

I fall to my knees next to him.

“You turned them to stone,” Calierin says in awe, poking one of the horses’ snouts.

Kadewyn curses, sounding angry rather than shocked this time. “Do something!”

Jolted by his cry, I swiftly take hold of Rífíor’s stiff hand and squeeze it in mine. I close my eyes and think of his fingers, moving and healthy. An image of his hands caressing my body surges in my memory. The heat of shame rises up my neck, and I start to suppress the memory.

Rífíor’s eyes roll in the back of his head as his entire arm turns gray.

“You are killing him!” Kadewyn stomps a foot, lashing out.

In desperation, I let the memories of the other night flood me, reliving, in my mind’s eye, the way his rough, calloused hands brought me to ecstasy with their gentle touch. My eyes close of their own accord. The Eldrystone grows warm, and in the next instant, Rífíor’s hardened fingers turn supple.

His groans of pain stop, and a natural color slowly returns to his skin. Wincing, he holds out his hand and flexes his fingers.

Overwhelmed, I push away from him, standing and fearfully lifting my eyes to the petrified guards. Teniente Coronel Toromayor’s blade is only halfway out, and her mouth is open in a mute cry. The sorcerer—Galen, Rífíor called him—has his hands up, twisted in the weaving of an incomplete spell.

Each face is carved in stone, grimaces and cries frozen… Forever?

Gods! I look at Rífíor, at his now-functional hand. No… not forever. I can undo it.

I take a step toward Teniente Coronel Toromayor. “I can… fix this.”

Rífíor steps in front of me and shakes his head. “You stopped them. Now, we can keep going.”

My head spins, and I let go of the amulet, horrified by what I’ve done. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You could have fooled me,” Calierin says, her violet eyes watching me with interest and cunning.

For some reason, I suddenly think of Jago saying we should stay together. Why did I leave the troop? I shouldn’t be with these three. One of them lied to me for weeks, another one tortured me, and the other did absolutely nothing about it.

“We should go back to the troop,” I say.

Rífíor shakes his head. “We cannot. We have to go before the other guards catch up.”

“But why?” Calierin asks in a mocking tone. “It seems we have nothing to worry about.” She glances sidelong at the mounted statues. “I mean… if Princess Valeria is capable of doing this, why are we worried?”

I lunge forward, ready to strangle the bitch. “I don’t take pleasure in hurting others.”

Rífíor holds me back while Calierin grins, looking pleased with herself.

“Valeria,” Rífíor says softly. “We cannot go back.” A pause. “Think it through, we will get there much faster and end this once and for all. We shouldn’t take any chances.”

The fight drains out of me, turning my bones to sand. I go limp in his arms. He holds me up, but I quickly regain my senses. I can’t lose my resolve now. I must finish what I set out to do. Now more than ever.

“All right,” I say .

Rífíor nods, and we walk back to the horses—two of them, which means we will have to ride in pairs. There’s no way I’ll ride with Calierin or Rífíor, so I stick with Kadewyn, which doesn’t feel much better. Rífíor, however, has something else in mind. Quickly mounting Calierin’s horse, he offers me a hand.

The sorceress’s mouth twits in displeasure, but she doesn’t say anything. I don’t want to ride with him, but at least I know we have the same goal. I left Nido with him, after all. Resigned, I take his offered hand. He pulls me up, and somehow maneuvers me and the horse so I end up in front of him, his torso flush against my back, his arms caging me in as he holds the reins.

Before I can protest, he urges the horse forward, while Calierin and Kadewyn argue about who will control their horse. Rífíor doesn’t wait for them, he charges forward, guiding us west and further away from the troop. My heart hurts at the thought of Jago left behind, the threat of treason hanging over his head. I hope they were able to get away from the guards. I hope he isn’t on his way back to Castellina to face Amira’s wrath.

Calierin and Kadewyn finally catch up with us a mile down the road. The former won the argument, and the latter seems resigned to ride in the back.

Without the troop, we cover more distance as we ride late into the evening. I try to ask Rífíor who that fae sorcerer was—Galen, he called him—but his response is an ineloquent grunt. I think of Jago and Cuervo, who must have been hunting and will find me gone when he returns. Will he try to come after me?

We finally stop for the night, and only then, I realize there is no wagon where to sleep, not even a bedroll. Do we even have food? There are saddlebags on both horses, but they don’t look like they hold much .

In the end, my worries about food are unfounded. Calierin ensnares four rabbits using her espiritu, and within a couple of hours, the delicious scent of roasted meat wafts through our small camp.

I eat because I know I have to. I even drink their cheap wine and welcome the burn as it goes down my throat. Once I’ve eaten my share, I lean back against a tree, my eyelids drooping with exhaustion.

Images of the day unroll before my eyes: Jago’s worried face, a burning tree, horses and people made of stone. It all blends together, promising a night of restless sleep.

Despite the images, I drift off, but something rouses me. Blinking drowsily, I open my eyes. Through the thin plume of smoke rising from our fire, I spot Rífíor and Calierin standing some distance away. They face each other, their gestures sharp and jerky, indicating they’re engaged in an argument.

Frowning, I watch them with interest, trying to catch what they’re saying, but their words are unintelligible. As their exchange grows more heated, Rífíor makes a pacifying motion and gestures in my direction. Whatever he says seems to placate Calierin, and she nods as if they’ve reached some sort of agreement. An uneasy feeling climbs up my spine, suspicion settling in the pit of my stomach.

As Rífíor walks away, he looks in my direction. Swiftly, I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep again. I remain that way for several long minutes before I find another place where to rest, one far away from Calierin, though close enough for me to still keep an eye on her. I don’t plan on sleeping.

I will be watching her closely.