Chapter Thirty-Two #2
When the door latched, Ravyn turned to me, his brow knit and his mouth a tight line. “Why didn’t you tell me, Elspeth?”
I twisted my neck and looked toward the window. “I know what I know,” I said, tapping my teeth together. “My secrets are deep. But long have I kept them, and long will they keep.”
Ravyn stared at me, his brows drawing together.
You saw, just as they did , the Nightmare purred. You saw the yellow in her eyes the night you attacked her on the forest road. You’ve seen it a dozen times since.
It wasn’t my place to demand answers , Ravyn said. How could I have known this was her secret? He squeezed my arm. “He’s been in your head eleven years?”
“Trapped,” I said. “Just like I am. And he’s getting stronger. That’s my degeneration.” I blinked, my mind weighted, as if underground. “Every time I ask for his help, he grows stronger.”
“Has he ever hurt you?”
The Nightmare hissed. Hurt her? I protect her.
Then why are you growing stronger? Ravyn demanded.
The Nightmare’s claws clacked against the dark floor of my mind as he paced, restless.
When Rowan stole my life, my soul remained, sealed in the Nightmare Card.
I waited hundreds of years, consumed by fury and salt.
His voice clung to me, as if made of wax.
Elspeth pulled me from the Card, the darkness.
So I protected her from a world that would see her killed.
I spoke to her from The Old Book . She was already good, clever.
But I taught her to be wary. I gave her my gifts—my strength.
But nothing comes for free, Ravyn Yew. Especially not magic.
Ravyn’s voice was hardly a whisper. What happens when you grow too strong for Elspeth’s mind?
But the Nightmare’s only answer was the click of his teeth, everywhere at once.
My thoughts swam in darkness. I could almost feel the coarse fur along the Nightmare’s spine, as if he were under my hand.
His voiced sounded like a hundred thrashing birds through my mind.
“It was his castle—the one in ruins. The first Rowan King burned it down, murdered him and his family.” I looked up at Ravyn, my eyes damp with salty tears.
“He’s buried beneath the stone in the chamber at Castle Yew. ”
The door knocked three times again, this time urgent.
“Not now,” Ravyn snapped.
“The King wants us downstairs,” Jespyr’s voice called through the wood. “Now.”
“Tell him I’m busy.”
“It’ll look suspicious if you’re not with us, Ravyn.”
Ravyn dragged his hands across his face, the shadows beneath his eyes more pronounced in the morning light. “I’ll be right there.”
Jespyr’s footsteps faded down the stairwell.
“What does the King want?” I said. “I thought everyone was staying here for another night of celebration.”
“To discuss patrols, undoubtedly,” the Captain said. “My uncle demanded more Physician inspections in town since the boy and his parents escaped. We escort them. I should be back before evening.”
He pulled his hand from mine, tapping his Nightmare Card three times, severing our connection. I felt strain between us—hesitance.
But when I reached out for him, he was already at the door.
“We can talk more when I return,” Ravyn said. “Get some rest, Elspeth.”
I stayed in bed five minutes, so anxious my legs kicked the blankets off on their own accord.
You need to rest , the Nightmare said. The poison has made you weak.
I ignored him and swung my legs over the edge of my bed.
A tap on my door stilled me, and I sat frozen, waiting. “Hello?”
The door creaked open, and in stepped my father, awkward on tender foot, as if I were a slumbering giant. “I wasn’t sure if you were awake,” he said.
I did not reply. I was too caught up in the light that trailed from his pocket, blinding and sapphire blue.
The Well Card.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
I shot him a quick smile, forcing myself to appear calm. When my hands began to shake, my entire body aware of the Well Card, I sat on them. “Tired, but better.”
My father stopped at the foot of my bed, legs planted shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind his back, ever the Destrier. “I caught Filick Willow on his way out. He told me you had been using a Chalice?”
“Prince Hauth, not me,” I said, my voice cold. “I merely happened to be there.”
“Hmm.” My father’s blue eyes traced my room. “I’d be wary of Prince Hauth, Elspeth. He’s not… he’s a very…”
“Horrid man?”
The corner of his lip twitched. “He’s his father’s son.”
I didn’t ask what he meant. I doubted he would tell me, even if I did.
“What of Ravyn Yew?”
My back straightened. “What of him?”
He winced, clearly uncomfortable. “The two of you seem to be enjoying your courtship.”
Until he realized a King, five hundred years dead, occupied your mind , the Nightmare said.
I tried to smile. “I like him very much.”
My father reached into his pocket, his fingers stiff, and retrieved the brilliant blue light.
He placed the Well Card at the foot of my bed and stepped back.
Upon the Card, secured with a single piece of twine, was a dried yarrow stalk.
“Your mother gifted me this Card when we wed,” he said, his voice low.
“Her father had given it to her, but she wanted me to have it. ‘What need have I for a Well?’ she’d said in her usual lighthearted way.
‘Only a man would need a Card to keep track of his enemies.’”
He never talked of my mother. It splintered something in me, watching his eyes grow glassy.
“I wanted you to have it,” he said, inhaling, standing straighter than before.
“You don’t have to give it to Ravyn Yew.
You don’t have to give it to anyone. I just thought…
” He looked away from me, the light in the windows catching his eyes, his voice barely a whisper.
“If I could go back and do it differently, Elspeth, I would.”
He didn’t give me time to answer. And it was best, for I had none to give. I was too surprised, too moved, too stung to know what to say besides the quiet “Thank you” I murmured as he slipped out my door.
My black dress lay in a heap on the floor. If I’d coughed blood into it, the dark fabric showed no evidence. I dressed and crept down the stairs to the galley, the King’s voice loud as it billowed through the house, my father’s guests still abed.
A cloud of darkness emanated from the bottom floor. The Destriers had not yet gone on patrol. I slid across the galley and perched near the top of the stairwell. When the Destriers passed, Ravyn and Elm were last to go. I watched them, red and violet and burgundy the only colors in a sea of black.
Drawn by my gaze, Ravyn turned, his gray eyes fast to find me on the stairwell.
His face was unreadable as he approached. I leaned over the banister, my long hair sweeping down between us. “The Well Card is in my room,” I whispered.
Ravyn’s eyes widened. “You stole it from Erik?”
“He gave it to me.”
He cocked a brow. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
A small laugh sounded in his throat. “I’ll send Filick to check on you. He can take it with him back to Castle Yew.”
I felt the same tightness between us from before, the same strain.
I reached down between the stair’s wooden balusters.
I could only reach his shoulder. “I’m… I’m sorry, Ravyn,” I said.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t think you’d trust me.
And I needed you to trust me if I was going to collect the Cards and cure myself. ”
He shook his head and reached up, the tips of his fingers grazing my cheek. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Elspeth. I’m the one who broke my word.”
“I should have told you sooner,” I said. “I didn’t know how.”
Ravyn gave a small, sad smile. “I know.”
Elm coughed, waiting at the door.
My eyes fell to Ravyn’s mouth. “When will you be back?”
“Tonight,” he said, his thumb grazing my lips as it fell.
His kiss was a ghost on my black hair. A moment later he stepped beyond the threshold of Spindle House into the courtyard, his boots treading upon the first red leaves to fall from the ancient tree.
The Nightmare’s claws cradled my mind.
“Be safe,” I whispered to the wind as Ravyn Yew disappeared beyond the gate.
Had I known they’d be the last words I’d say to him aloud, I might have chosen them differently.