Chapter 51 #2
Ryot’s chest still heaves, his fists still clenched at his sides. He's still furious—still ready to fight whatever comes next. But the fire in him eases. He jerks his chin toward the book clutched against my chest. “It’s a journal. The journal of the first Veilstrider.”
“The one who died in the Veil?” I ask.
Ryot jerks his head. “He didn’t die in the Veil. He was murdered—stabbed through the heart while his soul was still walking in the Veil. His mother wrote his last entry, after someone killed him.”
The Elder’s mouth tightens.
“That can’t be right. When I train ... When I enter the Veil ... my body doesn't stay behind, empty and vulnerable. I go in. Vaeloria and I go in together,” I say.
I turn sharply, seeking her. Vaeloria stands a few paces away, her wings tucked tight against her sides, her silver mane rippling in the cold breeze.
Her dark eyes are fixed on me. She moves closer, lowering her head until her muzzle brushes my shoulder.
She tells me. Not words but emotions—a surge of certainty, fierce and protective, like a hand closing tight around my soul.
“Vaeloria,” I whisper, understanding washing over me. “Vaeloria is of the Veil itself—born of it, shaped by it. When I go with her, she carries me there—body and soul.”
Ryot’s mouth presses into a thin, grim line. His gaze slices to the Elder. “It’s when she’s sleeping. That’s when she’s vulnerable, when she crosses the Veil without Vaeloria.”
The Elder’s eyes narrow slightly—he knows Ryot’s right. Ryot steps past me. “She needs to be moved out of the barracks. Tonight, somewhere secure. And she needs a guard posted whenever she sleeps.”
Guarded? In my sleep? I’m still scrambling to wrap my thoughts around this new reality when the Elder speaks.
“If we do that, people will wonder why.”
Ryot pales, actually pales.
“We can move her to my room,” he says quickly, desperately. “We can find a reasonable excuse about her Veil training.”
I open my mouth, anger bubbling fast and sharp. They’re talking about me like I’m not even standing here.
“I don’t need to be moved or guarded,” I snap. “I’ve been fine this entire time. No one needs to watch me while I sleep—because that would be weird—and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
Ryot’s hands find my shoulders and he gives me a little shake. “Not if you’re not present in your own godsdamn body, you’re not!”
I jerk out of his grip, bristling. “It’s fine. I haven’t been veilstriding in my sleep. Not once all winter. I’m too exhausted.”
He stares at me like I sprouted feathers. “And that makes it better?" he demands. His hands fly up, exasperated. “‘Don’t worry, Ryot, I’m too exhausted to function normally.’ Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Before I can snap back, the Elder cuts in.
“What are you so afraid of, Ryot?” he asks. “What do you think will happen to her while she sleeps within the Synod’s walls?”
Ryot turns back to the Elder, and to my shock, he shifts enough to tuck me subtly behind him—like he thinks the Elder himself might strike.
“Don’t play coy with me,” Ryot says, voice low and vicious. “You know the politics at play. You know the stakes. You know what she is.”
The Elder studies him, eyes sharp and glinting. Then the Elder claps his hands once, the sound loud in the brittle air.
“Excellent,” he says, voice almost amused. “Fear not, Skywarden Ryot. I’m officially releasing Ward Leina back into your care.”
He flicks his hands at us, a dismissive wave.
“Rest, Ward Leina. And move into a private room in the Stormriven hall. We’ll tell the others you require privacy to study your gift.”
And we’re dismissed.
I stand in the freezing forest, clutching a crumbling book to my chest, with an irate warrior practically vibrating beside me—and the uneasy knowledge that the ground beneath my feet shifted.
Again.
I wait until the beat of Sigurd’s wings has faded, and then I swing on Ryot. I want to hit him and kiss him, but I do neither.
“What did you find in Selencia?” I burst out. Everything else will wait.
“Enough,” he says, roughly. He’s not quite looking me in the eyes, his gaze falling over and behind me. My heart tumbles. I can’t read him.
“Enough to burn it all down?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
He turns to face me fully now. His midnight-blue eyes are a tempest of fury and something far more terrifying—desolation.
“No.” His voice has a strength to it that’s what I imagine adamas would sound like. “Enough to know we have to build it all again.”
Ryot finally—finally—reaches out and grasps my shoulder, steadying me. That simple touch is everything and yet … it’s not enough. I squeeze my eyes closed around the tears that start to leak through.
“Do you think they’ll listen? The archons? Do you think they’ll help?” I ask.
When I open my eyes, he’s watching me, and the look in his eyes is dangerous.
“We’ll make them listen, Leina. The Elder has called for a full accord session between the archons and the crown. King Agis is away—on an annual tour of the mines—but the accord will be held when he returns, in fourteen days.”
My heart stutters. Fourteen days—it seems both like not enough time and far too long.
“They’ll hear my full report then,” Ryot continues. “And not just mine. Rissa’s standing with us. She’s appalled by what we found.”
He pauses, letting that sink in. My mouth falls open slightly. Rissa? The cold, perfect princess of Faraengard, defying her own father?
“And when we stand before them, you won’t stand alone.” He leans closer, the heat of him chasing away the creeping frost in my veins. “We’ll do this together, Leina.”
For the first time in what feels like forever, hope doesn’t feel like a trap.
It’s something I can hold. I open my mouth to tell him I found Leo through the Veil.
I reach for him, trying to fold myself into his arms, but he steps back, putting a distance between us that’s so much more than physical.
Confusion and rejection unfurl, hurtful and hot.
“Ryot—”
He takes another step back, his eyes fall to the ground, something that looks horribly like guilt swimming there. Surely, he and Rissa didn’t …
“We need to train,” he cuts me off. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and not enough time to do it.”