Chapter 34 #2
I turn and am almost shocked by my reflection in a mirror. Wow. I look awful. I almost want to go to dinner like this, reeking of dirt and blood, but I take a bath because Raker is dying, and it would be in my best interest for that to stop.
When I’m done with my bath, I look inside the wardrobe and frown. It’s clear a woman hasn’t lived in these quarters for a long while. There are only two dresses, and they’re made from thick, scratchy fabrics.
I open the drawers instead, and find them mostly empty, save for corsets. I search them once, then again, desperate to find anything more wearable.
Pants. I must have missed them on the first pass.
They’re made of a soft material, and are tight against my body, far more so than the ones I’ve been wearing throughout the quest. I must be losing my mind, because next to the pants I find a tight long-sleeved shirt of the same material.
It goes all the way up my neck, and the sleeves are long enough to cover my hands.
“Perfect,” I say to myself, hardly questioning the outfit that was not there the first time but then was, before taking my sword and slipping out into the hall.
Vander is sitting at the head of a table so long, it starts on the other end of the room. The moment I enter, his blue eyes click up. I feel his gaze slide down me. “You don’t like dresses?”
“No, I love dresses,” I tell him. “Your dresses are hideous.”
He frowns. “Are they?”
I nod helpfully.
He scowls. “Is that all you do, human? Complain?”
“I have a name,” I say, walking toward the end of the table. The place on the opposite side of his has been set. I linger by the chair but don’t sit.
“Yes, and careful who you tell it to. Names have power. Sword names, most of all.”
I lift a brow at him. “Are you telling me I should be afraid of you?”
At this, he grins, revealing teeth that look particularly sharp. “You should be running for the gates, human.”
He’s not completely kidding. I can see some vestige of a beast of prey in his eyes, the way they sparkle like I have something he wants. All those warnings echo through my mind, before I silence them.
I lift my chin. “Stellan trusted you. He would have never told me to seek you out if he didn’t.”
At the mention of Stellan, his gaze softens just the slightest bit. I take my opportunity.
“The medicine,” I say, my thoughts annoyingly crawling with worry about Raker in the stables. I haven’t seen him. What if he’s dead? What if he’s thirsty? What if Vander didn’t get him the tea?
Panic squeezes my insides.
The hardness in his eyes is back. “Eat,” he says firmly. “Then we’ll talk about the demon you’re traveling with.”
I bristle. “You don’t order me.”
He doesn’t even look up from his food as he stabs a piece of his meat and eats it. “I just did.”
Battles. I have to choose them. Without medicine, Raker will definitely die. If Vander has it …
I sit down slowly. He looks far too pleased that I listened.
“How did you get that sword?” he asks, as I set it down next to me, within reach.
I steal Raker’s line. “How do you think?”
He gives me a look that says he doesn’t believe me for a second.
I glance at his own sword, leaning against the wall feet away, as if he doesn’t fear at all that anyone will try to claim it. “How did you get yours?”
“How do you think?” he says, words full of mirth.
I reach for the goblet in front of me. A golden liquid sparkles inside. Wine. “I think it was handed to you, just like that seat, just like this house, just like that silver hair. I think you were born with all of it at your fingertips.”
Someone drops something behind me. Another attendant horrified by how I’m speaking to their lord, no doubt.
Vander Evren’s own wineglass was halfway to his lips, but it stills.
All at once, the force of him fills the room, power like an invisible, crushing wave, searing through my skin and bones, as if the entire time, he’s been holding it back.
Ice-cold fear grips my chest. That’s when I realize, perhaps for the first time, the immortal I’m dealing with.
The supposed greatest heir in a millennium. The warrior that quieted the whole forest. That even the cavalry stayed away from.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I don’t have any sense of self-preservation.
I swallow.
All at once, that power is ripped away, as if taken back. I rock forward, released from its hold.
He sets down his glass with unnerving gentleness. “You don’t know anything about me, or what I’ve done.” He looks me over. “I could tell you, but you’d be dead of old age before I got to any of the good parts.” He looks bored. “I won’t waste my breath. Eat.”
The word is a brutal command, and after that wordless display, I heed it. Gaze not leaving his, I slowly pick up my fork and stab at something orange. I bring it to my mouth.
And try not to let my face reveal how extraordinarily delicious it is as I chew some type of vegetable that is sweeter than any honey.
Vander watches me eat for several moments, until half my plate is empty. Only then does he speak again. “Who was Stellan to you?”
The question hits me right in the chest. Every twisted shard of guilt and sadness that I buried pokes through my ribs.
I take a sip of the wine, the sweet nectar slightly burning down my throat but not doing anything for the knot in it. My voice is tight. “He was—he was my savior.”
Vander nods. His gaze touches the table, then me. “That, human, we have in common.”
I blink. He must know I’m wondering how Stellan, a mortal, could possibly be an immortal’s savior.
He leans back in his chair, looking every inch the powerful warrior heir.
“Half a century ago, he saved my life. I gave him a piece of rare metal in thanks and hosted him on his journey.” I don’t breathe, remembering the sparkling silver. The most valuable item Stellan owned and turned into a gift for me.
The dagger he died for.
“He learned about my people’s … suffering.
He finished the quest. Instead of going for the gates, he came here.
He gave the magic to me, and to my people.
” My eyes widen. That’s where the magic went.
Confusion grips me. Why would Stellan help immortals who have so much … instead of our own neighbors?
Vander looks me over. “He was a friend to me at my worst, a friend to all immortals, when he had little reason to be.” His gaze hardens. “That friendship and sacrifice are the only reasons I answered your call.”
My eyes burn. Stellan—he was a friend to me too. He died because of me. And, even in those final moments, even as he called me a fool, I know he didn’t regret taking me in.
I blink, and a tear escapes. It runs down my cheek. Vander turns his head, studying it, as if it’s something grossly unfamiliar.
He stands. A blur, and he’s right in front of me, fast as lightning.
Slowly, he reaches forward and brushes away the tear. His skin barely touches mine. He’s entirely focused on the liquid.
He rubs it between his fingers. He frowns.
His arm extends in a flash, and his magnificent blade is hurtling across the room, into his hand. It’s against my neck in an instant, glowing wildly. Yes, definitely a godsword. He’s right in front of me, and his face—it’s transformed.
It’s become a mask of cold rage.
“Why so guilty, human?” he growls. “Did you kill him?”
I can’t even find it in myself to feel fear. All I feel is knee-wobbling sadness. And yes, guilt.
How could he know? My emotions? My tear?
More are falling now. I shake my head, my pulse brushing the shining metal.
“No. But I might as well have. I … I should have.” I sniff.
I should fear this angry immortal, who could end me in a moment.
But being with someone who knew Stellan makes me want to be honest. “He wanted me to. But I wasn’t strong enough.
” I take a rattling breath. “He’s dead because of me. ”
Vander just studies me. Top to bottom, he studies me, and then he frowns, and I can almost read his disappointment, seeing that I am what his friend gave up his life for.
“Everything in me wants to kill you,” he says. He sounds like he means it.
Then, just as suddenly as it was drawn, his sword is back against the wall. He sighs. “But if he died for you … I won’t let it be in vain.” His eyes meet mine. They are harsh and fierce. “Why are you making the quest?”
My answer is immediate. “Revenge.”
He looks surprised at that.
“On who?”
Telling him would be a risk. The gods are revered on this side. Even the faelings told me Great Houses are associated with them. Though I haven’t seen any hints of reverence in the castle.
But Stellan trusted him. If I’m going to make it to the end of my journey, I need to trust him too. “The gods. I’m going to kill them.”
Silence. The world stills.
Then a slow smile spreads across Vander’s face. “Now, human, you’re getting interesting.” He looks toward the door and, as if commanded by his mind, it flies open. An attendant is waiting. “Get me a vial of healing elixir.”
The immortal rushes out of the room.
I lift my brow. “You’re helping him?”
“I’m helping you. This is only the first step. We’ll discuss the rest tomorrow.”
The attendant returns with a vial. He hands it to Vander, bows, then leaves us alone again.
Slowly, Vander turns back to me. “You say you want to kill the gods?”
I nod.
“You don’t stand a chance.”
I frown. “I—”
“Alone. You don’t stand a chance alone.” My skin brushes his as he hands me the vial, and my shoulders spike at the otherworldly cold. “You’re staying until I say otherwise,” he says.
Then, he passes me by, and leaves the room, glowing sword hurtling after him.
Raker’s eyes fly open.
They go right to me, standing on the other side of the barn watching him. Then they go to the chain fixed around one of his wrists.
He looks up at me, bored. “Really?”
“They’re afraid of you,” I say.
He glares past the sweat spilling down his forehead. He isn’t wearing his mask. His hood is down. “Then at least not everyone here is a fool.”