House of the Raven (The Eldrystone #1)

28. CHAPTER 28

28

VALERIA

“I’m well aware my kin disapprove, but my love for this human female knows no bounds, and I’m not afraid to proclaim it to all. I will wed her and remain in Castella.”

Padraig Theric – Fae Royal Knight - 2 DV

B efore Bastien gets back on my tail, I go in search of Maestro Elizondo. I got the parchment I copied at the library back from Jago. It’s hidden under my corset, safe from prying eyes.

I know my teacher likes to spend his afternoons reading in the south library, a quiet space, far removed from the bustle of the big library in the center of Nido.

When I get there, I find him hunched over a large tome, using a magnifying glass to peruse its contents.

I quickly pull the copied parchment out and smooth it over. The sound of crinkling paper makes him look up. One of his eyes looks comically large through the magnifying glass. I repress a laugh and instead offer him a gentle smile.

“Princess Valeria!” He sets his implement on top of the book and blinks with exaggeration. “What a pleasant surprise for me and these humble books.” He gestures at the bookshelves. “And wearing a dress. I forget the last time I saw such a thing.”

“Hello, Maestro Elizondo. It’s so very nice to see you, too.”

He’s a man in his late seventies. The top of his head is bald with white wisps of hair on the sides that extend down to a long beard. He wears robes like a monk, even though he isn’t one. He once told me that when he was young, it was his mother’s desire for him to follow the saints’ path. He had been a faithful, obedient son until he found out that texts other than religious ones would be outside his reach. It was then he decided facing his mother’s wrath was nothing compared to a life that denied him his passion for learning.

At that point, he left the seminary, but not the robes. He said they’re far too comfortable to give up.

“What brings you here, your majesty?” His curious gaze is already fixed on the rolled-up parchment in my hand.

“I was visiting the Biblioteca de la Reina the other day and discovered a small section filled with fae books I’d never seen.”

“Oh yes, the private collection.”

“You’ve been there?”

“Of course, I’ve read every single tome there. It’s impossible to find that many works in the old fae language anywhere else in Castella. I would be remiss not to visit that place. Often.”

He knows I have an interest in the fae, and he never mentioned this collection.

Maybe it’s because they’re all written in Tirgaelach, and you never show interest in his foreign and ancient languages lessons, you idiot.

Going around the table, I unroll the parchment and place it in front of him.

“I was hoping you would translate this for me,” I say, taking a step back and releasing a shaky breath .

My body tingles with nerves. The irrational desire to run out the door assaults me. I fear this is the point of no return and everything hinges on his next words. What I glean from him might propel me into a vast unknown for which I may not be ready. But what other alternative do I have?

Maestro Elizondo’s dark eyes move from side to side. After only a couple of lines, he stops and shakes his head.

“What is it?” My heart jumps into my throat, and I can hardly swallow past the lump.

“This looks like a five-year-old wrote it.” His tone is disappointed, the same one he uses when I turn in my Tirgaelach writing assignments.

“I know I’m terrible at it. I just want to know what it says.”

“If you took your lessons more seriously, you would.”

“I know.”

“And you would not have to depend on an old man, who might soon go blind from cataracts.”

“You don’t have cataracts.”

“My father did, and I fear he might have passed the curse on to me.” He looks truly terrified at the prospect. “What will I do when I can’t read anymore? There are so many books, so much to learn, and I can only make small dents no matter how many hours I devote each day.”

The man is positively theatric. His eyes are the dark brown of rich soil, not a speck of white in them, but he likes to wax dramatic, and it’s best to let him or he gets grumpy.

I wait patiently as he bemoans his nonexistent cataracts. I’m distracted scanning the papers and books on the table when he says something that pulls my attention back.

“If only the veil hadn’t collapsed or The Eldrystone were on Castella and not Tirnanog.” He sighs heavily.

“The Eldrystone?! ”

Is that name mentioned in the parchment? I saw a brief mention of an opal named The Eldrystone in one of the books I initially checked, something vague about it being a powerful amulet.

Maestro Elizondo goes on. “Yes, The Eldrystone. With that amulet, no malady could stop me from fulfilling my life’s dream.”

“What is it?”

“I wish to read every single book in the realm.”

“No,” I protest. “Not that. I mean what is The Eldrystone?”

“Did you learn nothing in your history lessons?”

I open and close my mouth unsure of how to respond. I did acquire some knowledge, but it’s evident I wasn’t paying close attention when my teachers covered The Eldrystone.

He pauses, stroking his white beard thoughtfully. “Actually, this isn’t your fault.”

“It’s… not?” This is news to me. He always blames me for all my educational shortcomings.

“I now recall your father requesting us to leave all mention of The Eldrystone out.” He taps his chin. “An odd request. Perhaps he felt the veil would forever remain beyond our reach, and you would have no need to commune with the fae royal family as his father, and his father’s father once did. Shortsighted, if you ask me?”

“Will you please tell me what The Eldrystone is?”

He looks up at me with a frown as if he’s trying to decide whether or not to uphold my father’s wishes now that he’s gone. Maestro Elizondo remains quiet for so long that I start to fear he will refuse, but in the end, he looks down at the parchment.

“Very well. I will translate, but it won’t be perfect. It’s hard to improvise these things.”

“That’s all right. Improvise away.”

“I’ll start here.” He places a finger mid-parchment and clears his throat. “The Goddess Niamhara made her subjects in her image. Given that she had full control of all natural forces in the realm, logically, many of her subjects inherited similar abilities. Some could draw energy from nature as she did. Thunder, wind, animals, plants, water, fire, and more. Many used their powers for good, but as she had granted her subjects free will, some sought to do evil. Fearing for their future, she devised a way to keep a balance, a conduit that allowed its bearer to channel all of her power when used for the prosperity and well-being of all.”

“So… are… is… the conduit,” I can barely frame my question, “is the conduit The Eldrystone?”

Maestro Elizondo nods. “That is correct. Legend has it that thousands of years ago, Niamhara gave The Eldrystone to the most loyal of her subjects, a young farmer by the name of Othano Theric. He went on to bring his people together and create an unchallenged era of progress and greatness.”

The fae king who opened the veil bore the surname Theric, I know that much. And from the sounds of it, the Theric dynasty has endured for millennia, making the Plumanegra lineage seem trifling.

“It’s… it’s impossible,” I mumble, addled by the news.

“What’s impossible?”

I force myself to focus on Maestro Elizondo. “That… I mean… that the Theric family still rules Tirnanog. Because they do, don’t they? I remember Mother mentioning King Korben Theric.”

“Yes,” he nodded, a sagely expression on his face. “It seems quite impossible given our human standards. I’m certain it has only been accomplished by the power of the amulet itself. As you well know, this magic also extends to your family, the Plumanegras. King Aldryn, Korben’s great-grandfather, discovered the veil and opened it wide for fae and humans to use as they saw fit. It was his brother, Padraig, who married one of your ancestors, passing along his shifting magic to his offspring. That is how the House of the Raven was born. How, through espiritu, the Plumanegras have also endured through many centuries. It is all very interesting, don’t you think?” He wears a satisfied smile as he always does whenever he expounds on topics he enjoys.

“And so… what happened to The Eldrystone?”

At the moment, I’m not interested in my lineage, and he’s missing the point. The Eldrystone. I’m shocked the thing has a name. No one gives names to inanimate objects unless they’re trouble. Take Father’s sword: La Matadora. In the old Castellan, it means The Killer, and it certainly has lived up to its moniker. This doesn’t bode well.

Maestro Elizondo says, “The amulet was passed down from Theric monarch to Theric monarch, of course.”

“So it’s real. It’s not just a legend?”

“There’s no way for us to be sure,” he said. “But let’s explore that thought.” He stands and starts pacing the room, his eyes lost in some imaginary creation of his brain. He really likes exploring ideas.

Normally, this would be my cue to stare at the imaginary creations of my own brain, but this time I’m riveted.

“The fae have the ability to wield magic,” he started. “That is something completely different from us humans. Innately, we have no such powers, and our saints have granted us little more than our own free will.” He scoffs at this. Even though he once meant to be a monk, he seems to hold a general contempt for Castella’s religion.

He goes on. “This magic has to come from somewhere. Somebody had to give it to them, and the fae say it was Niamhara. Much like humans are modeled after their saints, fae kind is supposed to be created in her image. Therefore, they inherited her ability to draw power from the earth and all its elements.

“Once we take this axiom, then what is explained in your parchment is only a logical succession of events. Naturally, some fae would have used their magic for good, while others used it for evil. A benevolent creator, like any parent, would seek to help their children get along and thrive. It seems The Eldrystone did just that.” He stops pacing and looks up at me in surprise, as if he’d forgotten I’m here.

Frowning, he scrutinizes my face. “But why the sudden interest in the Eldrystone, Princess Valeria?”

I consider my answer carefully. Of course, I cannot say I suspect Mother’s necklace is The Eldrystone. That would lead me to reveal she was fae and not human, and that isn’t something that would benefit anyone.

Also, the fact that Father forbade our teachers to mention the amulet… There had to be a good reason.

Although, the harder I think about it, none of it makes sense. If Mother’s necklace is Niamhara’s conduit, why did she have it and not King Korben? Why did she keep it with her and not locked up somewhere? Why did Father never ask for it when it could have solved so many problems? And why, oh why, did he let me keep it as a toy? This is the question that haunts me the most. So no. I can’t be honest with Maestro Elizondo.

Moreover, I can’t tell him that my sister seems to be possessed and in search of the powerful amulet. There’s only one thing that seems safe to mention, so I take a deep breath and let it out.

“It appears that the veilfallen are searching for the Eldrystone here in Castellina.”

“What a ludicrous idea!” he exclaims. “What would make you think that?”

“Um, rumors.” I wave a hand vaguely in the air.

“Who would start such rumors? They make no sense.”

“How should I know? We can explore the idea on how rumors get started, I suppose.”

He waves a finger at me. “Don’t get smart with me, young lady.”

I roll my eyes but turn sideways so he can’t see it. He still scares me when he uses that tone. I’m supposed to outrank him, but the man will always be an authoritative figure in my life, just like Nana. They practically raised me.

“The veilfallen want what any disadvantaged group of people has ever wanted,” he says. “Whoever is making up these fanciful ideas is only trying to distract us from the real issue. Wouldn’t you say?” He taps his temple, and I can almost hear him asking haven’t I taught you to think ? which is the typical question that accompanies the gesture.

I force a laugh. “You’re right. It’s absolutely ridiculous.”

He inclines his head, raising an eyebrow, another gesture of his with a meaning I know well. Of course, I’m right .

I take the parchment from the table and roll it up tightly. “Thank you for helping me satisfy my curiosity. I must go now.”

He watches me as I walk to the door, and since he must always have the last word, he says, “I will be waiting for you tomorrow for your Tirgaelach lesson. We can work on improving your calligraphy so it doesn’t look like a toddler’s.”

I sigh heavily and shake my head. Continuing my studies is the last thing I want to do right now, but a niggling notion has taken root in my mind. I have wasted a lot of my time being a brat and thinking I know better. But if I truly did, I would know how to read this parchment. All those times I didn’t listen to Maestro Elizondo, I wasn’t only wasting his time, I was wasting mine, too.

After talking to him, I find one of the housekeepers and instruct her to find my furniture and restore my bedchamber to its original state. She seems flabbergasted, unaware of what happened, but I have no desire to explain, so I tell her I trust she will get it done.

After that, I head to my bedchamber, and I encounter Bastien waiting by the door. He looks down at the parchment still rolled in my hand. I resist the urge to hide it behind my back.

“Looking for me?” I ask in a singsong voice .

He ignores my question. “I delivered your message to Don Justo. Any other tasks you would like me to perform?” He takes a slight bow that is more mockery than anything else. The parchment crinkles as I tighten my fist.

He smirks.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” I smirk back. “Why don’t you jump off the east tower?”

I keep walking, without waiting for a retort. The door shuts behind me with a satisfying thud . “What an insufferable man.”

“Insufferable,” Cuervo croaks from his favorite perch on the balcony.

“Say that again.”

“Insufferable,” he repeats.

That makes me smile and helps me push Bastien out of my mind. Instead, I busy myself with burning the parchment and watching it crumble to ashes in the fireplace.

After there’s little more than black soot left, I go to Cuervo.

Caressing his neck, I ask, “Are you all right?”

He bobs his head up and down.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to spend much time with you. My life is out of control.” A warm breeze blows a lock of my hair loose. Cuervo’s beak snaps at it playfully, trying to catch it.

We share a silent moment, looking out at the beautiful sight that is Castellina. The Manzanar River sparkles in the distance like a diamond necklace left behind by a giantess.

“Cuervo,” I whisper, “One day soon, you have to take me to the necklace. I need to know where it is.”

“Treasure,” he says, then he blinks his beady eyes and stares into the distance. “Treasure,” he repeats more insistently.

Slowly, my gaze follows his toward the observatory to the east. Cuervo does a little jump and flaps his wings once.

“There, huh? ”

The place where he and I have spent countless hours searching for treasure . It makes sense why he picked that place.

“And it’s safe?” I ask, worried because others also go there to retrieve beautiful crystals that dazzle the eye.

“Safe,” he repeats.

“Good. We’ll go soon.”

“Soon.”