House of the Raven (The Eldrystone #1)

10. CHAPTER 10

10

VALERIA

“No more bunnies, lad. ‘Tis bear pelts the fae traders be seekin’. They ain’t got no bears in Tirnanog.”

Juan Qui?ones - Human Trader - 163 DV

H and hovering near the dagger strapped to my thigh, I navigate Nido’s labyrinthine corridors, my footsteps echoing through empty halls and shadowed alcoves. Each room I enter seems to conceal a threat, the disfigured sorcerer mumbling spells as he pulls the invisible strings that control my sister. My heart races as I search behind closed doors, lumbering furniture, and hidden passages.

Where is Orys?

The palace is a sprawling maze with no beginning or end. Each room I finish scanning seems to immediately transform into a new hiding place, leaving me to wonder when I’ll ever complete a search in one room before I need to check it again. Doubt gnaws at me with every step. Is he really here? Or am I chasing a phantom? The vastness of the castle threatens to swallow my determination, and I fear that my task is futile.

As I approach Amira’s bedchamber, my resolve strengthens. Maybe that’s where Orys Kelakian is hiding. She’s still busy in the council room and will be for days to come. I hope the new responsibilities sour in her mouth.

I expect a guard stationed by her door. When I realize the corridor is empty, I turn the nob and anticipate it will be locked. But the door offers no resistance, and I enter her room without trouble.

Inside, everything is tidy and in its rightful place. I notice nothing out of order, not even a quill on her desk. My own reflection in the full-length mirror tucked in the corner startles me. I resemble the very phantom I’m attempting to locate.

Breathing unevenly, I find myself wondering if Orys is ensconced in Amira’s mirror, whispering evil deeds and curses into her ear while she brushes her hair at night.

Amira, what is happening? I need you right now. Father is gone, and I don’t know what to do .

I shake my head. “You’re wasting your time.”

The truth is, I don’t think I would find Orys even if I were able to see into every corner of Nido simultaneously. I have a feeling the sorcerer will reveal himself only when he’s ready to be found.

Instead of wandering Nido like a lost soul, I need to find Jago and tell him of my plan.

“Leaving Nido today is not the same thing as yesterday, Val,” Jago says.

We sit on a marble bench in the roof’s sparring courtyard, the sun directly overhead. Our voices are little more than whispers as we huddle under the shade of a young acacia. Cuervo is nowhere in sight, and I’m grateful for that. The less he knows the better. It’s best to keep things simple for him .

He did return after performing the task I asked of him and seemed to indicate everything went all right. Surprisingly, my mind is now at ease as far as the necklace is concerned—a good thing since I have many other things to worry about.

“Your father was going to let you go,” he goes on, “but from the way you described Amira’s ultimatum, I think she might chase you to the gates of hell to make sure you follow her orders.”

“I don’t care, Jago,” I say. “I’m not going to Aldalous. I’m staying right here in the capital.”

My plan to leave Nido is back on schedule. Amira—queen or not—isn’t shipping me away.

Jago rubs the side of his face, frustrated. “And what do you think you will find out while living among the rabble? They can teach you all about washing your own clothes, but they know nothing of your father’s secrets. You’ll be so far removed from Nido that you’ll be lucky if you catch a glimpse of Emerito’s parade of ridiculous outfits.”

“Nana can help.”

“What? Nana? She’s almost eighty years old, Val. Besides, it’s dangerous.”

Nana rescued me from trouble many times, but Jago is right. She’s too old now. I’m grasping at straws.

“I’ll figure it out,” I say. “There are people within the palace who might help me.” I think for a moment. “I can approach some of them while they’re out and about.”

“Oh, good. At least Nana will be safe. Who cares about everyone else!”

“You’re a jerk, you know?”

We’re quiet for a moment, then he frowns, looking worried. “I don’t know, Val.”

“If you’re afraid, you don’t have to come with me. I’ll go by myself.”

“Of course, I’m afraid. I’m a pampered royal, a low one in the scheme of things, but still a royal. It would be hard enough to live in that wilderness,” he gestures in the general direction of the heart of the city, “without having to worry about threats on our lives. It will be quite another to survive with the queen as our enemy. Have you stopped to think about that? We’re too young to die.”

I want to be mad at him, but I can’t. I have no right to ask him to risk his life for me. Going against Amira might very well spell my end, but it doesn’t have to spell Jago’s.

“It’s all right.” I squeeze his hand.

“Oh, who am I kidding? Of course, I’m going with you.”

My heart leaps with elation. I would be lying if I tried to deny my fear. Having Jago by my side will give me strength. I sense a test lies ahead, and I must do my best for Father, to avenge his death and ensure his legacy isn’t tainted.

I throw my arms around Jago’s neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me so much or I’ll change my mind.”

I put my hands up and concede. “All right, let’s plan our escape.”

“Ominous but exciting. I have to admit that last part.”

Closing my eyes, I chew on my thumbnail. I need to go through everything in my mind before I start explaining. Once I’m sure of the necessary steps, I share my thoughts with him. “We’ll meet at midnight in the old chapel in the west wing,” I begin.

“Why there?” Jago scratches his head, confused.

“Because there’s a secret passage there that will lead us out of the palace.”

“A secret passage? Since when are there secret passages in Nido?”

“Since always.”

“And how come I’ve only just learned of their existence?”

“Father told us to keep them a secret. I haven’t thought about them in ages. ”

Jago huffs. “Just another reminder that I’m worse off than Cuervo in this family. If the palace were to catch on fire, at least he would be able to fly away while I’m consumed by the flames along with everyone else.”

“I would never let you burn, cousin.”

“I’m not so sure about that anymore.” He pauses. “How long have you known about the passages?”

“Since I was nine or ten.”

He throws his hands up in the air. “Saints and feathers, Val! Do you know the fun we could’ve had if you’d told me then? I feel cheated.”

He’s not wrong about that. It would’ve been fun sneaking out of the palace with him—not that we didn’t find other means to do it. But when I was a child, I would have never considered going against Father’s wishes no matter what. After Mother died, he was my hero. I looked up to him and sought his approval in everything I did. I felt starved for his attention when most of his time was devoted to Amira, his heir to the throne. If he had asked me to lunge into the sky from the top of Nido, I would’ve done it. So of course, I didn’t reveal the existence of the passages to anyone.

“Just be there at midnight,” I say. “And don’t let anyone see you.”

“Of course, I won’t. Did you forget who you’re talking to? I’m an expert at sneaking.”

“And I, your apt pupil.”

A smug smile stretches his lips. “I’m glad you recognize that. I’ll go pack.”

“I thought you had already packed.” We were going to leave the palace today, after all.

Jago shrugs. “I’m not ashamed to admit I unpacked with a sigh of relief.”

“I’m disappointed. How could you be relieved in any way after what happened yesterday?” I ask in a teasing voice. I know he likes his luxuries, but that doesn’t mean he’s not mourning Father’s death, too .

“Valeria Plumanegra, do you really need to ask that question? You know me better than anyone. You know my philosophy.”

“Of course, minimum effort unless it leads to comfort .”

“Precisely.”

With a shake of my head, I decide to leave it at that before he notices he’s abandoning his philosophy for my sake.

Upon returning to my bedchamber, I come to a halt at the wide-open door and take a second look in disbelief.

Servants rush to and from at Emerito’s command.

“No, no, no.” He picks a garment up from a large travel case, wrinkles his nose, and casts it to the floor. “No hideous leggings and tunics. I want the prettiest dresses and gowns only. At least seven of each.”

I step into the room, blood roaring in my ears. “What are you doing?”

Nose still wrinkled, Emerito gives me a sidelong glance. “Getting your luggage ready for tomorrow’s journey, of course.”

Five servants enter and exit my closet, rummaging through my belongings, leaving nothing untouched. I see they’ve already been through my vanity as well. In the guise of packing for me, Emerito is searching for the necklace. I have no doubt about it.

I want to yell at them to get out, want to let them know I won’t be going anywhere, but I manage to restrain myself. It would be unwise to do that. Instead, I’m tempted to walk away and save myself the headache, but that would also be inadvisable. The correct reaction here should be indignation, so that is what I deliver.

“This is unacceptable! How dare you invade my private quarters without consulting me?” I demand .

The servants freeze. They look to Emerito, their gazes pointing at the culprit.

The little man—he’s a few inches shorter than me, even in heeled shoes—tidies his pointed beard and comes closer. “ The Queen ordered me to take charge. And if you have a problem with that, talk to her.”

We exchange charged glares, then he whirls, turns his back on me, and continues to supervise the servants’ progress.

“Fine,” I shout, “but I’m taking all the leggings and tunics I want.” I march into the closet, grab an armful of my most comfortable clothes, and stuff them in one of the trucks, making sure to crumple all the dresses. “You, pretentious little leprechaun, will not tell me how to dress. If you have a problem with that, talk to my rapier. I’d like nothing more than to spar against you and reduce your puffy sleeves to mere threads.”

One of the servants turns her face to hide a grin. I give her a wink that Emerito doesn’t notice since he’s too busy straightening his doublet and patting the sleeves down just to have them spring right back up.

Pleased with my work, I stomp out of the room and don’t return until much later.

Everything I’m taking with me tonight fits in a small rucksack. I have one change of clothes, the few gold coins I had lying around the room, but most importantly, my jewelry. Selling it will be the only thing that will allow us to survive out there.

Earlier, I told Cuervo our plan. A glint in his eye told me he understood, and I’m confident he will meet us behind the palace. After that, he can follow us to our final destination, wherever that may be. I will rely on Jago to find an out-of-the-way inn. He knows Castellina better than I do .

It is almost midnight, so I sling the rucksack over my shoulder and take a deep breath. I’m ready to go. My only regret: not talking to Nana before leaving. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I would probably cry, and I don’t want to worry her. With luck, this will be over soon.

Cautiously, I swing open my bedchamber door and cast a glance into the hallway. No one is there. I’ve been expecting Amira to send someone else to guard me and prevent me from doing exactly what I’m about to do. But perhaps she doesn’t think I’m brave enough to disobey her.

She thinks wrong.

I ease out into the hall and silently close the door behind me. I’m wearing all-black clothes, and my long brown hair is arranged in a tight bun at the base of my neck. My leggings are form-fitting and comfortable and so are my supple boots. To complete my outfit, I wear a tunic and a long cloak. The cloak has a hood, which is pulled over my head.

My heart beats wildly and, though my breaths come fast, I feel as if I’m not taking in enough air. There will be guards stationed at different intervals from here to the old chapel, but I know this palace like the back of my hand, and I’ll have no trouble avoiding them.

My boots only whisper as I traverse the long corridor.

“Going somewhere?” a deep, familiar voice asks from an alcove on my right.

Every muscle in my body turns to stone, and I can’t move.

Guardia Bastien steps away from the shadows, his expression as deadpan as I remember. He looks neither angry nor satisfied that he has caught me sneaking out of my bedchamber.

As for me, I feel my own anger rising to my face in a heated wave that settles on my cheeks and betrays my emotions. My hand edges toward the dagger strapped to my thigh. Maybe I can carve some kind of emotion on his indifferent countenance .

But it would be untrue if I said I’m not intimidated by his sheer size. The man is well over six feet tall. Six-two? Six-three? Maybe there is a way to evade him without a physical confrontation.

“It’s none of your business,” I say, then keep walking.

After a few steps, I glance over my shoulder. “You’re following me. It’s uncouth and reeks of scoundrel.”

Maybe he already knows he’s a scoundrel because there is no reaction to the insult, not even the slightest twitch of an eyebrow.

I pick up my step. He does the same.

Whirling on him, I deliver the most withering glare I can muster. “If you don’t remember, my sister, the queen , said I could go about my business as usual.”

“That was yesterday. Today, the queen has a different opinion.”

“And she told you that? A lowly, fresh-out-of-the-academy guard?”

“Indeed.”

“Why?” I demand. “Why you?”

He shrugs with disinterest. “I have always found success in everything I do. It has ceased to surprise me, so I simply don’t ask.”

“I highly doubt that.”

No answer again, only his usual indifference.

I keep walking, my thoughts churning. Amira doesn’t trust me, so she’s having me watched by a jerk who appeared out of nowhere, the same as the sorcerer.

If that’s a coincidence, then I’m a pink unicorn.

As we walk past a large clock, its pendulum swinging away, I note the time. I can still shirk Guardia Bastien and join Jago before my cousin starts to worry that something is wrong, and I know just how to do it. One thing about being new… he doesn’t know this place the way I do.

I make my way toward the greenhouse located on the third floor of the east wing, hurrying my step to make the most of the time I have left .

The sweet, citrusy fragrance of orange blossoms envelops me as I step into the glass enclosure. The expansive structure was commissioned by my great-great-great-grandfather as a tribute to his beloved wife. It spans two stories, and it’s built on an intricate metal frame, a work of art in itself. The metal is masterfully wrought into twisting vines that shape portholes, benches, frames, and spiral staircases that lead to the upper level. Some of these details are meticulously carved in copper, which has acquired a pretty greenish patina over time. It’s one of my favorite places in Nido, especially since Mother spent countless hours taking care of the plants. She offered special attention to the tulips, which have never looked the same since she passed away. Her brand of espiritu allowed her to communicate with plants, and her gentle touch seemed to revive even the most withered stems and leaves. I often wonder if I would have inherited her espiritu if the veil hadn’t disappeared.

I spend a moment admiring the blossoms under the moonlight that filters through the glass. Leaning close as if they have ears to hear me, I tell the flowers how pretty they are. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Guardia Bastien’s approach. He’s looking at me, probably thinking I’m crazy.

I suddenly glance in his direction and catch his curious stare. Immediately, his corpse-like expression returns.

Rolling my eyes, I weave between two rows of plants and make my way to one of the spiral staircases. It is narrow, so only one person can go at a time. Just to be obnoxious, I make my steps heavy. They clank loudly. Glancing down, I notice he has to stoop in order not to hit his head on the upper rungs. Recognizing my chance, I start running.

“Hey!” he yells. “Hold it right there.”

I reach the top, and like a child, blow him a raspberry. It’s stupid, I know, but the jerk is so stiff I delight in being the complete opposite. I run with steps just as loud as I used on the staircase, but when I reach the end of a row of pink roses, I duck and step lightly. Silently, I reach the far corner, where there’s a hole in the metal floor and a smooth tube running vertically from the ceiling, passing through the center, and extending all the way down to the lower level. Smiling with satisfaction, I take hold of the tube and slide down its length. I land on the first floor, my feet as gentle as a ballerina’s.

“Where in all the hells are you?” Guardia Bastien hollers above.

With a spring in my step, I leave the greenhouse and rush to meet my cousin.

“I was about to go looking for you,” Jago says when I arrive five minutes later. “What took you so long?”

The scent of aged wood and candle wax permeates the small chapel. Saint Francis’ serene wooden countenance watches us from the altar. A circle of candles rests at his sandaled feet. There are four rows of pews facing him. Jago sits at the last one.

“I had to evade a certain jerk, the one who was dropped on his face as a baby,” I explain.

His honey-colored eyes widen, then flick toward the door. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t worry. I left him fumbling around in the Gloria Greenhouse. But we should hurry before he alerts everyone.”

I walk up to the altar, pick up one of the candles, and hand it over to Jago.

“Hold this,” I tell him, then climb the raised pulpit, and press a hidden button. A secret panel slides open behind Saint Francis, revealing a dark corridor. Right past the entrance, an oil lamp hangs from a hook. I retrieve it, remove its glass cover, and thrust it in Jago’s direction.

Quickly, he uses the candle to light it, and we enter the passage. There is a lever on the wall, which I pull down. The panel moves back into place with a scraping sound, and the space grows dimmer.

“Very clandestine.” Jago puts a hand on my shoulder as I lead the way. “I don’t know whether to soil my pants or dance a jig. ”

I know exactly what he means. The fear of being discovered tingles over my skin, yet it’s not the only sensation coursing through me. Even though what lies ahead is unknown and fraught with danger, I can’t help the peculiar elation bubbling in my chest. For once, I’m following my own counsel—not only that, I have a purpose.

The passage winds, leading us to a set of narrow stairs. We descend for several minutes, then spill onto a cavernous space with several arched doorways. I take the third one from the right and continue down another narrow passage. The silence is only interrupted by our steps and the sound of droplets feeding a puddle somewhere in the distance.

“Where are you taking me, Val? Don’t tell me you’ve made a pact with the devil to use his realm as a shortcut.”

“No, no pact with the devil, only with Bodhránghealach.” He is one of the many fae deities Mother taught me about—the keeper of echoes, guardian of the underworld.

“Oh, I feel much better now, whoever Bocragelak is.”

“Not Bocragelak… Bodhránghealach.”

“Sure.”

After five more minutes, Jago adds, “Are we lost? I feel like we’re lost.”

“No. I know exactly where we’re going.”

It’s been a long time since Father showed us this particular passage, but I still remember the precise route despite the many detours in different directions. Father said their purpose is to confuse any pursuers. Yet, at every fork we encounter, I’m never hesitant and recall his instructions.

When we come near the exit, I stop and face Jago.

“What?” He blinks at me.

“The exit is straight through there.” I point to the middle of three passages.

“So let’s go.” He starts, but I place a hand on his arm.

“Stay back, in case there’s someone out there waiting for me. I’ll let you know if it’s safe to come out.”

“Why wouldn’t it be safe?” he asks.

“I don’t know, but no one saw you, right?”

He nods.

“If I get caught, they don’t need to know you’re here, and I’ll still have you as an ally.”

He looks conflicted for a moment, then seems to decide it’s a good idea. “All right.”

I hand him the lamp and keep going. The way out of the passage is through several jagged rocks and draping vines. I push the greenery aside, even tear some of them down to clear the way, and finally, I stumble into open space. I blink at the darkness, letting my eyes adjust, and when they do, my heart sinks.

A group of guards led by Guardia Bastien surrounds me.

“Puta madre!” I exclaim, and this time I do go for my dagger, while belatedly Cuervo croaks a warning overhead.