Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

50. CHAPTER 50

50

VALERIA

“Now, our dear home is a prison. How shall this horror be undone?”

Hermano Jacinto - Monasterio de San Corvus de la Corona Monk - 21 AV

E arly next morning, Korben retrieves our horse from the stable he hired to take care of it and buys three more mounts. Jago takes one and rides to inform the troop of our plans. He didn’t want to leave without telling them and without paying what we owed them for their services. I suspect he also wanted to see Esmeralda.

We head out of Badajos, trotting easily down the main road, in view of everyone.

I hold my breath as we cross in front of two royal guards standing on a corner and surveying the area as they clearly look for us. It’s disconcerting to pass unnoticed by everyone.

Jago sticks his thumb between index and middle fingers, makes the fig sign, and waves it at them. “The fun I would have sneaking up on Esmeralda,” he says with a mischievous grin.

“Esmeralda, huh?” I tease.

He twists his mouth to one side, then says, “The Fae King, huh?”

My cheeks grow hot, and I chide myself for inviting him to tease me and making it so easy.

Korben throws me a sidelong glance, looking amused. He wears La Matadora on his back. I try not to think what Father or Amira would think of that.

“Do you trust him?” Jago asks later when Korben isn’t listening.

“I do.”

He raises an eyebrow and purses his lips asking, Are you sure?

I nod, no doubt in my heart.

Jago sighs. “Then I guess I’ll have to trust him, too, but if he hurts you again, I’ll hang him by the balls.”

“And I’ll help you.”

We both laugh.

Soon, we’re out of the small town. Cuervo’s shadow skimming over the ground as he flies overhead.

The border with the territory once known as Portus is only two days away. I have never visited this far west, but I’ve read that Portus died out when the veil first appeared over two thousand years ago. With all trade routes gone and cut off from the rest of the continent, I imagine they slowly found it harder and harder to thrive.

Many who rather believe in grimmer things say that as Tirnanog took its place, Portus shriveled away under its presence. It is said that no Castellan travels beyond that border, fearing the veil’s abrupt reappearance and a death sentence if the fae lands settle anew. Most people believe Tirnanog exists in a different plane. Nonetheless, anyone on Portus’s side would find themselves cut off from their homes, so I think it wise not to travel there.

I could never have imagined my traveling partners at the end of the journey. I’m only glad Calierin isn’t here.

Korben and I talked for a long while last night. We crowded together in the narrow bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. I asked him what he wanted to do, and he said it was my decision alone. I told him my fears .

“Learning your true identity,” I said, “made me doubt our goal. I thought you would go to Tirnanog and return to Castella bent on war.”

“I was willing to destroy everything when you gave me the amulet in your sister’s bedroom. Twenty years taught me nothing. They simply served to enhance my rage. But these last few days, I’ve come to realize how much I relied on The Eldrystone. How dependent on it I became. That conduit has been the source of all my pain. You showed me that, Valeria. You… with your restraint in the face of so much power. For a long, long time, Niamhara was quiet, and The Eldrystone seemed to be a tool she bestowed upon us and then forgot about. But now, she is quite present, with you directly in her sights. You are young, yet you have displayed wisdom beyond your years, resisting the amulet’s allure far better than I ever managed once it took root within me. That is why I think you will be a better keeper than I ever was.”

My fingers trailing down his smooth chest, I said, “I… I’m not as immune as you may think.” It was hard to admit it, but I needed to acknowledge it. “At times, when I didn’t have it in my possession, there was this strange feeling in my chest, a sort of desperation that made me want to rip it from your hands, Amira’s hands, Calierin’s hands. It took all my strength to control the urge.”

“And yet, you did. I can’t say the same thing.”

“I… tried to kill you.”

“I’m still here.”

“You wore it for years, Korben. I’ve only just…”

“ Shh .” He smoothed my hair, light fingers moving along its length, then trailing down my back, making me shiver. “You do not give yourself the credit you deserve. You are so strong.”

I grunted noncommittally.

“You must hate Amira,” I said, still afraid of what he might do.

“She is not my favorite person,” he admitted, “but I understand her. I hate to say this, but when Francisca brought Thoran here, I showed my own lack of acceptance. I judged him based on my ignorant ideas. Yet, he saved you, and you are here thanks to him. I learned something valuable. Your sister, like me, has been dealt a difficult hand. Mayhap, there is still hope for her. I did not think I could change, but here I am.”

I caressed his face. “Thank you for saying that.”

With a smile stretching his chiseled mouth, he took the white streak in my hair and pulled it up. “Did you always have this?”

Shaking my head, I buried my face deeper into his chest. This is one of those things I don’t like to talk about, but no barrier exists between us anymore.

“I got it the night Mother died,” I say, my voice growing thick. “I was wearing The Eldrystone, playing and pretending to be Mother. The amulet helped me save Father from Orys, but I was too late to help her. Afterward, I had this.”

“How old were you?”

“Eight.”

“Like I said, you are strong, Ravógín .”

I pushed up on my shoulder to look at him. “What does that mean?”

He smiled crookedly. “It means little raven.”

Resting back on his chest, I hide my smile. I like it. “Tell me about your espiritu, your shifting magic?”

Aching sorrow seeped into his voice, a hollow echo of the emptiness he feels without his raven skills.

By the end, I was in awe. Before the veil fell, he possessed the ability to shift into all the forms of a formidable raven shifter. Corvus, a regular-sized raven akin to Cuervo. Dreadwing, a colossal bird with talons the size of a house. Scatter, an unkindness of ravens capable of darkening the sky. Chimera, a creature with a blend of raven and fae characteristics. He also confessed to other, darker powers, but chose to end the conversation there, deciding it was too late .

“You will be able to do it all again when we reopen the veil,” I said, stifling a yawn.

“Mayhap you are right, little raven.”

Now, I smile as I look ahead between my horse’s ears. Petting the animal’s neck, I feel optimism sparking in my veins for the first time during this journey.

Everything will be all right.

Two days later, my optimism has taken root. We haven’t run into any trouble. Galen’s espiritu is as Jago called it: Gaspar imbued with strength from San Christopher. Unfortunately, Korben doesn’t seem to share my good cheer, and the closer we get, the more somber his expression becomes.

Overgrown brush blocks the path, a testament to the lack of travelers. Galen uses his magic to clear our way. Korben’s gaze dances around as if he expects trouble to jump from behind each bush. My cousin has picked up on it and is doing the same, hand tight around the hilt of the rapier he took from Enrique.

“We are close,” Korben announces after an hour of silent riding.

We have left the path and entered the forest which, without Galen, would be impassable.

“Yes,” Galen agrees. He cracks his neck and scents the air like a hound. Can he sense the veil? My eyes rove all around, and I see nothing, only massive trees covered in vines and moss. The forest is so thick, it is hard to see past it.

Abruptly, Korben brings his mount to a halt and leaps off the saddle. He walks over to a tree as wide as five men and runs a hand over the bark. He steps lithely over the gnarled roots and rounds the trunk .

“Here,” he announces.

“How are you so sure?” Galen asks.

“Because of this.” He points at something we can’t see on his side of the tree.

We all dismount and go around to find a large gash scarring the trunk.

“I left this here as a marker when I passed through,” Korben explains. “I don’t know what made me do it.” He frowns and looks down at the ground.

“Perhaps your instincts told you something bad was about to happen,” Galen says.

Korben shrugs. “Mayhap.”

They both look at me expectantly.

“Um, all right, how do I do this?” I ask.

Galen frowns at Korben. “How does she do this?”

“Yes, Galen. Valeria will do this,” Korben answers in a tired voice.

“Why?”

Korben ignores the question.

The sorcerer thinks for a moment. “Of course, you have no magic. That’s why you can’t shift. That’s why we’re trapped here.”

“Brilliant as always.”

“But how? Why?”

Korben crosses his arms. “That’s not something you and I are going to discuss.”

Jago puts a hand up. “I want to know, too.”

They both get death glares from Korben.

I clear my throat. “Again, how do I do this?”

Galen huffs in frustration. “Just wish it open. I’m sure that’s the extent of what you can do with the amulet, isn’t it? You don’t yet know how to weave spells?”

“Weave spells?” I glance over at Korben .

He looks chagrined. “There is much more to know about how to channel The Eldrystone’s power than merely asking it to do your bidding.”

“Hmm, interesting how you hadn’t mentioned that.” I narrow my eyes at him.

He only looks smug and says, “There is much you still need to learn, Ravógín.”

“What is this ravógín nonsense?!” Jago demands. “The veilfallen leader is to the level of using pet names? Simply disgusting.”

“Shut up, Jago, or I’ll turn you into a chicken,” I threaten, tugging the amulet from under my tunic.

“Chicken!” Cuervo croaks from the branch where he’s perched. I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a delighted tone from him.

My cousin glares up at Cuervo. “Then I’ll finally look just like you, buddy.”

Cuervo hops on the branch, flapping his wings in annoyance.

“What’s wrong with that bird?” Jago asks no one in particular.

“Nothing,” Galen replies. “He is a perfectly normal Runescribe Raven. My family used to raise them. They’re counted amongst the smartest animals in Tirnanog.”

This is surprising information, and I want to know more, but I save my questions for later. Clearing my throat, I grab hold of the amulet, holding my hand tightly to my chest, and I wish for the veil to reopen.

Nothing happens.

“Did…. you do it?” Jago asks.

“I did.”

“Try harder then. You have always been such an underachiever.”

I send a death glare his way but avoid glancing in Korben’s direction. I don’t want to disappoint him. We have come so far, and failure isn’t an option .

Planting my feet firmly on the ground, I close my eyes and concentrate. Before I tell The Eldrystone what to do, I say a little prayer for Niamhara.

Please, Goddess, let us find a path into Tirnanog. Let all these people, your children, go home. They have suffered enough already. Open the veil.

“What am I looking for here?” Jago asks. “Maybe she did it already and we just can’t see it.”

I sigh, opening my eyes and registering the disappointment in Korben’s expression.

“Trust me,” Galen says. “You would see it. It’s not something you’d miss.”

“It shimmers,” Korben murmurs, his head hanging.

The next hour, I wish for the veil in a thousand different ways, but nothing works. At some point, my prayers turn into one-sided arguments with Niamhara, and I’m sure that if I ever make it across the veil, she’ll smite me as soon as I enter Tirnanog. She hasn’t done it yet because she’s enjoying my frustration too much.

After my thousand and one attempt, I growl in frustration and have to bite my lip not to scream at the heavens.

“Come take a break, cousin.” Jago—as well as the others—is sitting against a tree, munching on dry bread. “Get something to eat, then try again. I bet it’ll help.”

Letting my anger build certainly isn’t helping, so I sit next to him, snatch a piece of bread from his hand, and take a bite.

After a moment of sitting in silence, Galen scratches the side of his head. “Um, it’s beginning to look as if… this is a failed endeavor. Perhaps it’s time to count our losses and decide what to do next.”

“I won’t give up so easily,” I shoot back, retransmitting every ounce of the anger his defeatist attitude reignites in me.

He throws his hands up in the air. “Just a suggestion, Princess.”

“Can anyone think of something I could try?” I ask .

“Stand on your head?” The sorcerer suggests.

“Galen,” Korben growls his name in a clear warning.

I jump to my feet. “I don’t need you to defend me, Korben. You know well I can hold my own. Maybe Galen needs to learn that, too.”

“I believe he does,” Korben agrees. “I suggest a rapier duel.”

Glancing at him sideways, I smirk. “Great idea.”

Korben says, “Naturally, magic is forbidden.”

“This seems quite unfair.” Galen begins picking pieces of grass off his pants, looking disinterested.

Korben stands. “I am your king, sorcerer. I have every right to set rules of combat for one of my subjects.”

“I want to watch this.” Jago rushes to the horses and retrieves the rapiers. “Here you go, cousin.” He tosses the weapon, and I snatch it out of the air and strike first position, pointing at Galen’s face.

“En guardia,” I say.

Galen sighs and laboriously gets to his feet. Jago tosses the second rapier at the sorcerer, who fails to catch it. The weapon hits the bushes and embeds itself in their tangled branches.

“I have told you time and again that your big mouth will be the death of you.” Korben sounds amused, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s using this as a distraction from my failure.

“Pick up the sword.” I slash my rapier through the air, making it sing.

Galen disentangles it from the bushes and looks at it as if it’s an unknown device never before seen by human or fae eyes. Looking as dexterous as a newly hatched bird, he raises the weapon and attempts to imitate my pose.

Gently, I touch my blade to his and slide it down its length. The hissing sound senses a thrill up my back. Sparring has always been invigorating to me.

“Prepare to—”

A loud croak from Cuervo cuts me off.

“Treasure,” he says shrilly, leaping from the branch and flying downward.

When he’s halfway to the ground, he does something strange. He hovers in midair for an instant, using short, powerful wing flaps. At the same time, he scratches the air with his talons as if he’s trying to snatch something from nothing. Did he see a bug he wants to eat? I begin to think that’s what he’s doing, when he lands on the ground and begins walking in circles while he looks up, turning his head this way and that.

There’s a sudden glint in his eye. He jumps into the air again and performs the same maneuver.

“Now you have truly gone crazy, chicken,” Jago says. “Couldn’t you just get a hound like regular people, Val?”

It’s unlike Cuervo to ignore Jago’s jabs, but he is too intent, flying at the same spot over and over again and clawing at it as if he has, indeed, gone mad.

I put the sword aside and approach Cuervo. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

He flutters to the ground, looking exhausted and frazzled. “Treasure,” he offers as an explanation.

“There is no treasure here, Cuervo.” I crouch and pet his neck.

He peers at me sideways and insists, “Treasure.” His dark beady eye shimmers as his membranous eyelid opens and closes. I pause. There… that shimmer again. What is that? I glance over my head, squinting at the air, feeling as crazy as Cuervo.

Then I see it, a small glimmering light like a tiny star hanging at waist level. I stand and, as I blink, lose track of it.

“Where did it go?” I ask.

“Where did what go?” Jago starts circling the spot with me, mimicking Cuervo and me, flapping his arms like wings.

I shove him. “Stop being ridiculous and help me find it.”

“I promise,” he says solemnly, “I don’t know where your sanity went.”

“I see it!” Korben exclaims, walking in from the side .

I take a position slightly behind him, mimicking the tilt of his head to follow his gaze. There it is again. I stare at it mesmerized.

“What is it?” I whisper.

“I… it is said that Aldryn Theric, my great grandfather, stumbled upon a tear in the fabric of our realm.” His dark eyes rove all around, the speed of his thoughts, apparent in his expression. “He didn’t open or create the veil. He simply widened that tear.”

“You think this is…”

“Yes, yes!” Galen exclaims. “Korben is right. I remember reading an account of the events.” He starts pacing behind us, trying to spot the anomaly. “I see it too.”

He shrugs Korben and me out of the way, gingerly moving closer to the glimmering spot. “If that’s all that needs to be done, maybe I can…” He kneels, squinting, then raises his hand, a red espiritu outline around his fingers.

“I don’t think you should—” Korben doesn’t finish his sentence because as soon as Galen touches the spot, there’s a loud sizzling sound, followed by a blast, and the sorcerer goes flying backward.

Korben approaches him, looking concerned for a moment, but then Galen groans and lifts his head, dazed.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have touched that,” he says, shaking his head as if to clear it from the impact.

“You always have the brightest ideas,” Korben puts in.

“I still don’t see it,” Jago complains, stomping his foot like a child.

I grab his shoulders and position him just so. “Squint your eyes a little, search about two arm lengths away from you, then try to unfocus your eyes.”

“Would it help if I stick out my tongue too?”

I swat his arm. “You don’t take anything seriously.”

He laughs. “I already saw it, Val.”

“But of course. ”

“All right,” Jago says, “so if this tiny star is a tear in the fabric between our realms and the sorcerer there,” he points at Galen, “only managed to get zapped, are we supposed to assume that Val won’t because she has The Eldrystone? And in fact, she will open it?”

“That’s how it worked for my great-grandfather,” Korben says.

“So what exactly did he do?” Jago puts his arms up and swings them from side to side. “Did he dance a little jig?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know what he did.” He turns to Galen. “Did you happen to read anything about that?”

Galen looks up from his hand, which he’s slowly flexing. “No, I didn’t.”

“Fantástico,” Jago says sarcastically.

“All right, let me try.” I stand in front of the tear, holding the amulet.

This time I think of the spot growing taller and wider, enough to let us through, but I receive the same result as before, which is to say none.

I try several more times, but it’s useless.

A faint buzzing begins in my ears, like thousands of insect wings beating. My vision tunnels to the anomaly, and I see a rainbow of colors flicker in the air. It’s very pretty. I reach out to touch it.

“What are you doing?!” Jago grabs my hand and pulls me toward him.

I crashed into him, feeling dazed. Everything is turning around me, and I have to hold onto my cousin to keep my footing.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

“I am. I just… I thought I heard something.” Slowly, I pull away from him, and once my head is clear, I take a step back.

“I think I have to… reach inside.” I don’t know where the idea comes from, but it sounds right.

Jago shakes his head. “Val, I don’t know. What if it hurts you?”

I glance at Korben questioningly.

He shrugs, his expression saying, it’s all up to you . He trusts me.

“Galen’s still alive,” I tell Jago with a smile .

“Barely,” the sorcerer calls from his spot on the ground, where he still sits licking his wounds.

“I’ll be fine,” I say.

Jago twists his mouth in disapproval. “How do you know?”

“I have a feeling.”

He runs stiff fingers through his dirty blond hair and whirls around, frustrated. “This damn quest is going to get you killed or worse.”

I guess there are fates worse than death, but he’s exaggerating.

Bracing myself, I approach the spot once more—one hand on the amulet while the free one goes through the tear.