Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

46. CHAPTER 46

46

RíFíOR

“I could not have asked for a better Master of Magic, my dear friend.”

Korben Theric - King of Tirnanog - 1951 DV

T he arsehole disappears inside the tent the guards set up for him. I strain against the ropes that bind me, trying to slip my wrists out, but the guard standing on watch places a hand on the hilt of his rapier, eyes flashing a warning. I relent. For now.

This turn of events is entirely unexpected. We should be on our way to the veil, but Calierin…

It is her fault we were captured. I glance at her frozen figure, hoping she stays like that forever. Despite her oath, I can’t trust her. I fear for Kadewyn. Did she kill him? I shake my head, dismissing the thought and praying to the gods he is all right.

What now? How do we get The Eldrystone back?

“Why did you give him the amulet?” I demand, throwing a sidelong glance at Valeria.

She doesn’t answer. She only glares.

“Because, unlike others,” Galen answers for her, strolling in our direction, a blade of grass in his mouth, “she holds family in high esteem, don’t you, Princess? ”

Valeria’s mouth twists, her displeasure clear.

Of all people, why did it have to be Galen with his smug face and eternal carefree facade to ruin everything?

“Came to gloat?” I ask.

He crouches, throws away the blade of grass, and points at the guard. “You, go get something to eat. I’ll watch them for a spell.”

The guard appears uncertain.

“Go!” Galen insists, his tone brooking no argument. His skillful command of magic has always lent him a great deal of authority wherever he goes. No one would like to end up a smear on the ground.

“Once a traitor, always a traitor,” I bite the words out.

“Get over yourself, King Theric .” He whispers the last part, as if to make sure no one else can hear him call me that.

Next to me, Valeria watches our interaction with deep interest.

Galen rubs his stubbled chin. “Imagine my surprise when I realized I wasn’t chasing Rífíor of the Veilfallen but you .” He extends a hand toward me in a demonstrative gesture. “I could hardly believe my eyes. But then, the princess turned us to stone and when I was able to undo the spell, I wondered if I’d imagined it all. You’ll have to understand, I had to make sure.”

“Is there a point to all of this?” I demand, wishing my hatred for this male was capable of reaching across the short distance that separates us to knock him out once more.

“Only that I’m glad to see you.” He grins widely, irritatingly.

“Fuck you, Galen.”

“Nah, you already did that to me for over fifty years. Not a pleasant experience. Though, I must say… it brings me pleasure to no end to find that you’re just as thoroughly fucked as me.” He throws his head back and laughs. “To think that you have been trapped in Castella for twenty years. It’s poetic justice. ”

I strain against my bindings, and I swear if he comes any closer, I will bite his face off.

He lifts his chin theatrically, and I know he’s thinking of the next inane thing to say, but before he opens his mouth, Valeria voices a question.

“Who are you? And why are you… bothering him?”

Galen turns his attention to her and scans her up and down. He never misses anything. He plays the fool, and people assume many things about him—none of them true. He is as shrewd as they come, which made him an excellent Master of Magic. It was also what caused his downfall.

“He hasn’t told you about me?” Galen asks.

Valeria shakes her head.

“I used to be his Master of Magic until he exiled me.” He looks satisfied with delivering this news.

I huff. “Why not tell her why you were exiled?”

“Would you be surprised if I tell you, it was because of his precious amulet?”

Her eyebrows go up, and she does a slow blink that clearly delivers the message: No, I’m not surprised .

“You tried to steal it and use it against my will,” I snap.

“To end a war, Korben.”

“A war that you made worse,” I shoot back.

“Exactly the reason why I was trying to put an end to it.”

I shake my head. “And at what cost?” I feel my anger mounting, so I reign it in. “Never mind, it seems you have not changed one bit.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“Then do it and leave me the hells alone.” I glance away at the distant darkness between the trees.

“I take that back,” he says. “You’re worse than before.” When I say nothing, he turns to Valeria, hooking a finger in my direction. “He’s worse.”

“Oh, you mean he was less of an asshole before? ”

He makes a weighing motion with his hands. “Give or take, I suppose.”

Great! All I need is both of them colluding against me.

Galen scoots closer to Valeria, looking right and left as he lowers his voice. “So… that was The Eldrystone you handed over to that miserable dunghill. I had no idea that’s what we were after.”

I cock my head to the side to better see and listen.

“What are you saying?” Valeria asks. “That you wouldn’t have taken my sister’s gold if you’d known?”

Galen shrugs. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On… why you were running away.”

Valeria remains quiet, likely weighing in every nuisance of our situation, wondering whether or not revealing our purpose is a good idea. I wager it is. Galen would be as eager as any fae to see the veil restored. He may be exiled, but that is quite different from being physically barred.

“We were on our way to reopen the veil,” Valeria answers at last.

It seems she came to the same conclusion as me. Mayhap she hopes revealing the truth will procure Galen’s sympathy and, perhaps, his help. Or am I reading too much into her straightforward answer? I fear it is the latter. She changed her mind about going through with our plan, after all, and only seemed to care about keeping The Eldrystone to herself.

Except… she gave it up for Jago , a part of me reminds me. Though a crushing realization follows... She would not give it up for you, Korben.

“Were you really?” Galen leans closer to me now.

“We were,” I reply, without looking at them.

“And why did she have it? What could she possibly have done to make you part with it?” He pauses, thinking for a moment. “W-wait, wait, wait a minute, you’re in love with her.”

“Quit being an idiot,” I snap. I do not miss the way Valeria’s face turns away at my words, but I cannot focus on that right now. “You have no idea what brought us here. So either help us get the amulet back or leave us alone.”

“Well, well.” Galen stands, dusting his hands. “It seems I have lots to think about tonight. Sleep tight.” He leaves.

Our guard returns to his post. He never took his eyes off us, waiting at an out-of-earshot distance.

Galen strolls as if he does not have a care in the world. He feigns disinterest, but I know better. He is not so cavalier as he would have everyone believe. The question is: will he take The Eldrystone for himself as he once tried to do? Or will he bring it back to me? I suspect I will know the answer before the night is over.

The irony does not escape me. I once banished him from Tirnanog for coveting the very thing I would gladly let him have now, for I would rather see the conduit in his hands—a fae who would use it to restore access to our realm—than in Don Justo’s, a human who would use it for ends I cannot begin to fathom.

I glance at Valeria, a mixture of emotions crowding my chest. I do not relish the sensation. For years, I have felt nothing but emptiness, and now I feel too much, too keenly.

When I took her earlier tonight—ecstasy fogging my thoughts, her body supple and willing in the circle of my arms—I dared believe forgiveness was possible, dared hope her mother’s curse could be broken. I thought Niamhara had decided it was time to end my suffering.

It took mere minutes to disallow me of that half-witted notion. One more truth revealed—the least harmful of all—and Valeria’s scant trust shattered.

Even if she had learned my true name from my own lips, it is the still-unanswered question that really matters. And once she learns the answer—the reason why Loreleia stole The Eldrystone—trust will never be a possibility again.

I did something horrible, something I should regret but I do not. Perhaps, seeing my lack of remorse, Niamhara has led us to failure. Perhaps, this is just another penance. A meticulously crafted torment designed to raise my hopes before dashing them to dust once more.

The Goddess mocks me, her cruel hand moving me about like a piece in a game.

Father passed The Eldrystone to me over a century ago before he crossed to the Glimmer, the day I turned one hundred years old. The amulet fell heavily upon my chest, a responsibility I did not want, but could not escape. Despite the years of instruction on the duties of the conduit keeper, I felt unprepared.

My own magic was strong. Like my ancestors before me, I was a raven shifter, capable of all the forms: corvus, dreadwing, scatter, and chimera. Not only that, but I could also control the darker powers, something few in our line have ever been capable of. I felt no need for more. I was content as a prince and dreaded the weight of the crown upon my head as much as The Eldrystone.

It took me a few years to come to terms with it all. To my surprise, I found that my work as king was deeply rewarding. My days were filled with the orchestration of many projects that made Tirnanog a better place. Seeing my people prosper filled me with pride. There was peace under my rule as I swiftly stamped out any sign of rebellion with the help of the amulet I once dreaded.

The Goddess created us in her image, giving us control over the forces of nature. But not all fae aim to use their powers for good. Some seek to do evil, and as the keeper of The Eldrystone, it was my duty to maintain a balance.

And so I did, for seventy years.

Until Morwen the Mistwraith sprouted out of nowhere.

That’s when the true trials began .

As her name suggests, she came like a phantom in the night, unknown and unseen. With a viciousness that augured a deranged mind, she began instigating old rivalries between neighbors, causing accidents, terrorizing villages with clandestine attacks, and more. During every onslaught, she seemed to spring out of the air when least expected to quickly disappear in the same fashion.

We searched for her, using every resource available to us, but she eluded us at every turn, disappearing like fog in the presence of the sun. It was the first time The Eldrystone was powerless against a foe.

Thirty-five more years crawled by, and my kingdom remained haunted by her ghostly presence. To the north, war festered like a plague sore, erupting between two feuding clans, one Galen called his home—hence his misguided attempt to steal The Eldrystone.

The penalty for his actions would have been death. It is what the council advised, but in the end, the decision was mine, and I chose exile. He had been my friend, almost family.

Our troubled existence continued for thirty more years after his departure.

Needless to say, I had my hands full. Marriage was not something I sought, rather it was thrust upon me. The Royal Mate Rite had to take place. I had reached my two hundredth birthday.

Females came to the capital from all around the realm. It is our way for males to find a mate at this age, and the king is no exception. On the contrary, I was to choose a queen from amongst my people and thus keep our blood diverse, strong.

Worries about the war gnawed at me, threatening to break my concentration from the rite, but it was Saethara’s presence that proved far more distracting and pulled my attention from what really mattered.

Saethara .

When I close my eyes, I can still see her beautiful face, her devastating, sensuous body. From the first moment all the candidates were presented, it was she who drew my complete attention. I went through the motions, meeting with every candidate, waiting for a turn with her. There were banquets, dances, private meetings, and tests.

It was these tests that worried me. I feared she might fail them, and then I would be heartbroken because I was in love with her. Each female received a different test, but they all consisted of giving the potential brides access to The Eldrystone. Or more accurately… a replica of it.

Greed to possess the amulet has corrupted gods know how many people since its forging. It is part of the rite for kings in my family to ensure that the final candidate is free of such covetousness.

A few of the females were tempted and took the fake amulet, but Saethara… she showed absolutely no interest in it. It was all the proof I needed. I had found the perfect bride.

We were wed immediately. No male in the realm was happier than me. Then, on our wedding night, after I thought I had reached the Glimmer in her arms, she stabbed me in my sleep and took the amulet. I only survived because my innate magic helped me heal. She left me for dead while Tirnanog still celebrated our marriage.

Mad with grief, I grabbed my sword and went after her. She had fetched Loreleia, her childhood friend and Valeria’s mother. They had come together to the rite from a small village called Nilhalari. Saethara had dragged Loreleia with her. As I confronted them, I thought them accomplices. I thought they had planned the deception together, like hungry spiders lurking in their webs.

“Saethara, why?!” I demanded.

She was surprised to see me on my feet, healed. Yet, she was not afraid—not with The Eldrystone in her possession. Releasing a cackle that froze the blood in my veins, she revealed her true self, her contempt for me.

“ You fool. You weak fool. You do not deserve to be the keeper of such power.” She held the amulet aloft. It glowed with her evil intent, but I did not care. The possibility of death only seemed like an escape from the ravaging aching in my heart.

Oblivious of any danger, I roared and rushed toward my treacherous wife, sword held high. A chilling vision flickered before my eyes—a twisted tableau of us both dead, intertwined in a final, gruesome embrace. A fitting end for our blackened hearts.

But Loreleia, taking advantage of Saethara’s distraction, snatched the amulet from her hand. Saethara fell to her knees at the force of my blazing rage, a plea on her lips. I could have stopped, I think, but I did not even try. Instead, I gritted my teeth and ran her through with my blade.

It was not enough. My fury was not satiated. They had come from far away to deceive and betray me. They were harpies, born from malice and bred to be pure evil.

“ I will destroy every trace of you ,” I swore. “ I will raze your wretched village to the ground along with every person who lives there. Nothing good can come from a place that spawns such monsters. Everything and everyone responsible for fashioning such vile creatures will meet its end. ”

“ No! You are mad ,” Loreleia said, her voice trembling.

“ Give me back my amulet! ” I demanded.

She shook her head and retreated.

I meant to kill her, too. She deserved the same death I had devised for Saethara, and it would have been so if not for Vonall, my best friend. He intervened, giving Loreleia the chance to escape, to run and search for refuge in the human realm.

Yet not even Vonall could hold me for long, and I caught up with Loreleia. She had crossed the veil already and had encountered Simón Plumanegra. What transpired afterward... two decades of torment, a life sundered in half.

Until I met Valeria.

Through narrowed lids, I steal glances at her, hoping my interest will escape her notice. She is furious at me, and rightfully so. I owe her the truth after all the ways I have hurt her.

A part of me clings to the notion that our first night was a misstep, a lapse in judgment after years of solitude. But our time in the wagon… and tonight… each encounter reveals more. My resolve crumbles when I am near her, her allure greater than any I have ever known—for no male seeks the flames willingly when memories of the past still sear his soul.

She is no misstep.

I am conquered.

Walls I erected, shields forged from pain itself—none of it mattered. Her courage, her kindness, the very things that drove me mad with frustration... they were her weapons against me. Her wit, her beauty... they were my undoing. I fell for all of it, every last irritating, endearing bit of it. And now, how am I supposed to confess the truth? How when every word will be a wedge driven between us, pushing her away?