Chapter 17 #2
She grabs my hand and holds it up, indicating my ring on my pinky. “This one? I’m assuming Rafe gave it to you.”
I can’t keep the shock from my face. “When we were young. But I don’t understand…” I trail off.
First this afternoon with Elia and telling her my story with Rafe and now airing out more personal history with him. I’m emotionally drained. If we actually did find Rafe, I’m not sure I’d survive.
“It’s a relic,” Elia articulates slowly. She reads the shock still on my face and asks, “You didn’t know that?”
I shake my head. “No,” I murmur, glancing down at the ring.
It’s a simple wooden band with no pattern, worn down to the point that most people would dispose of it, but I could never bring myself to do so.
“He gave this to me when I was fifteen, sixteen maybe? I hadn’t even started hunting for relics at that point.
I’d be surprised if he knew it was one, too.
But what magic could this possibly have? ”
“People call them waystones, trailfinders, or scryers. They come in all different forms but all have the same purpose. Basically a tracker of sorts. I’m guessing it’s not pulling you in any way? Does it feel warmer in a certain direction?”
I almost laugh. “You can’t be serious.”
“Hey, I thought I already proved I can read relics. That’s how I knew Rafe gave it to you – it’s honed with his location.”
That sounds like an asinine thing Rafe would do. But at such a young age? We weren’t even together when he gave it to me. Why would he imbue his location into a relic for me?
“Sorry, Siren, maybe you can’t read this one.” I throw my hands up in mock surrender. “No warming or pulling here.”
“May I?” She holds her hand out to me, palm up.
I instinctively pull my hand to my chest. I haven’t taken the ring off in years, not since it became too small for my other fingers and I had to move it to my pinky.
Elia looks at me knowingly, understanding my hesitation. “I won’t break it. I’ll hand it right back. Promise.”
That is the first promise Elia made to me, and I understand the significance of her doing so. She knows how important the ring is to me, and I’m childish to think that she would ruin it. I gently tug the ring off and place it on her palm.
Elia holds it gingerly as she goes over to the library table, digging through some of the books and other documents we’ve gathered over the past few months. Ginna gives me a puzzling expression, and I shrug.
“Aha!” Elia exclaims, tugging something out from under a large stack of books. “This should work.”
The map she spreads out across the table shows all the kingdoms in Erithia, with Ashven being front and center.
“Find Rafael,” Elia states clearly, before placing the ring directly on to the map.
Ginna, Hanson, and I all jump and yelp in shock as the ring starts spinning frantically.
It moves across the map, rattling against the table, as if testing each location for accuracy.
After a few more rotations, the ring stops spinning and teeters back and forth before laying flat again.
Elia peers into the ring, where the name of the location is shown.
“Sevrin?” Elia glances up at us.
I frown. “That’s an island near Auros. I think it’s a pirate’s hideaway. Is it familiar to either of you?” I ask Ginna and Hanson.
“A pirate’s cove, definitely,” Hanson agrees. “That’s where Old Silvertongue said he was from.”
“The drunk man who knocked over the drink fountain at the ball last year?” Ginna asks.
Hanson snaps his fingers. “The very same!”
“Of course Rafe would be there,” Ginna whines.
Rafe always was the troublemaker, sneaking out of important meetings, avoiding dignitaries that visited. It doesn’t surprise me either that Rafe would have chosen a pirate island of mischief and lechery.
“Doesn’t matter where he is as long as we can find him, take the ring back, and leave.” My words come out steady, but my hands are trembling, and I immediately tuck them behind my back so no one notices.
“How soon can we leave?” Elia asks eagerly.
Ginna and Hanson turn towards each other, exchanging a silent conversation in a way only best friends can.
“Probably a couple days – I’ll need to pull the crew together and gather supplies,” Ginna answers. “I’d like to accompany you, as well.” Her last statement is directed to me.
I nod. “Hanson, are you okay with staying behind? Watching over the King and the rest of the Hunters?”
“Another trip I’m left behind,” Hanson jokes. “Fine by me, you know how poorly my stomach handles being on a ship.”
Hanson’s not joking about that. The last overseas Hunt we went on Hanson had spent the entirety of the trip with his head over the side of the railing. Plus, he and Rafe were never as close as Ginna and me, what with us having grown up with Rafe from childhood.
“Alright. Let’s start preparing. I’ll inform the King, and we’ll plan on leaving in two days’ time.”
Ginna and Hanson discuss logistics between each other briefly before leaving Elia and I alone.
Elia approaches me tentatively, as one would approach a wounded animal. “It’s okay to not be okay with all this.” She takes my hand and gently slides the ring back on my finger. “It would be a lot for any one of us.”
“I have to take it one step at a time.” I press a light kiss to her forehead. “Spend the next two days packing anything you might need for several weeks. Then take a bath. Read. Get some relaxation in before the trip.”
“Okay. Let me know if you need me for anything else.” Elia squeezes my hand gently before she leaves, and I’m left alone.
I hope Elia doesn’t think I was too dismissive towards her.
With our relationship growing and now with the possibility of seeing Rafe again, my head is spinning out of control.
I don’t want to lose the progress Elia and I have made, but I can’t say that I’m not petrified at the thought of seeing Rafe face to face again.
It’ll be weeks before that happens, though, and we might not even find him.
Sevrin is a big island after all. And the chances are slim that Rafe kept a ring from someone who doesn’t matter to him anymore.
If he ever even cared at all.
I roll my shoulders back and stretch my neck back and forth.
I’m getting myself way too worked up over a small possibility.
I need to focus on Elia who’s actually in front of me and cares for me.
I don’t want to throw away the first person I’m falling for after Rafe.
Whether or not we find the ring, this can be a trip for us to grow closer and to solidify our future plans.
I smile at the thought, feeling better than I have since this plan formed.
My smile falls away as quickly as it came as I remember that my next task is to talk to the King. My shoulders hunch forward as I start the dreaded walk to his office in the highest tower.
I hear the King’s tantrum before I reach his door. There’s a faint sound of shattering glass and yells as I approach the landing. The two guards outside the door don’t meet my eyes.
“He’s in a bad state tonight, sir,” One of the guards – Jax – informs as I approach. “Not sure you want to see him.”
“Who’s in there with him? I heard him shouting on my climb up.”
“A new servant, sir, bringing the King his dinner. He’s not yet accustomed to the King.
” Jax answers with his back straight, but I see the fear in his eyes for the King and the pity for the servant.
The King’s personal maids and servants rotate so much I can’t keep track of who’s who.
No one wants the position, no matter the pay.
I straighten my shoulders and pull my stoic mask on my face. I’d better interrupt before another servant quits or worse, mysteriously disappears.
I knock hard on the door, and I hear what sounds like a plate being knocked to the floor. “King Corvin, may I come in? It’s Callum, sir.”
I hear a grunt and take it as approval as I swing the door open.
The King’s office is in a state of chaos I’ve never seen.
The large, gilded oak desk is overturned, papers discarded on the floor.
The dinner tray and its remnants are in a corner where the King must have thrown it.
I scour the room for the servant, and see a young boy, probably no older than twelve or thirteen, huddling in the corner, hands covering his head, eyes squeezed shut.
He reminds me of a younger me, trying, but failing, to avoid the King’s ire.
I used to huddle in that position, too, until I realized that cowardice only egged the King on.
King Corvin is sitting in his favorite chair by the fire, unsurprisingly with a bottle in his hand.
His jewels and finery are out of place amongst the devastation.
“Ah, Callum, my boy!” King Corvin greets me jovially.
I bow deeply. “Your Majesty.”
“Come sit, come sit.” He gestures wildly at the overturned chair in front of him.
I slowly lift the chair and fix it to the correct position, eyes tracking the servant boy still cowering, willing him to acknowledge me. “Your servant is wanted in the kitchens, sir, but I’m happy to assist in whatever you need.”
“Bah!” The King spits. “He’s useless to me anyways.”
The boy meets my gaze at last, and I subtly gesture for him to leave. He scampers away without a backwards glance, shutting the door with a loud thud.
I take the chair across from him. “Sir, I wanted to provide you with an update –”
“Have a drink, Callum,” The King interrupts, searching around him frantically for a cup.
I hastily pick one up off the floor and pass it to him. The King stares at the cup quizzically, then continues to drink from the bottle directly. His eyes are starting to glass over, and I know I don’t have long before he won’t remember this conversation.
I lean forward in my chair, hands clasped. “We’re leaving for Sevrin in two days, Your Majesty. Ginna, myself, and the girl.” I still don’t want the King to know Elia’s name. I also conveniently leave out the part of possibly reuniting with his son. “We have a promising lead for the Stone.”
The King nods slowly, head bobbing from side to side. “Soft…still too soft.”
“What?” He may be further in the bottle than I had originally thought.
“You’re too much like your whore of a mother still.” My jaw clenches, but I don’t react.
“I took you in out of the goodness of my heart, against my advisors’ wishes.
I stopped you from growing up in a filthy orphanage – giving you a roof over your head, the finest clothes and foods the kingdom has.
I treated you like my own son, hoping that you would grow into the man I thought you could be.
Strong and ruthless. A man like me.” He stops, taking a long swig from the bottle.
Silence passes and I realize he’s waiting for me to respond. “I’ve tried to make you proud, Your Majesty. I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me.” I hesitate before adding, “I’m thankful for the place you’ve given me here.”
The last part tastes bitter coming from my mouth.
I was grateful at one point that the King had taken me in, shown interest in me.
But I can’t help but wonder what I could have been if not raised here.
The invisible shackles on my wrists grow heavier each year, and if I grew up at an orphanage, at least I wouldn’t have been chained.
But I also wouldn’t have met Rafe, or now Elia, if it wasn’t for the King.
It’s safe to say that my feelings are complicated at best for him.
The King gives me a hard stare. “You’re lucky that you’re only slightly better than my pathetic son. Or else you’d be thrown out as quickly as he was.”
I stay silent, willing my hands to stop twitching. It’s one of the rare times he’s mentioned Rafe, and again I wonder why Rafe left in the first place.
The King smacks his lips, head leaning back against the chair’s back. “You always bring out the worst in me, Callum. The price I pay for caring for you.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
The King waves a hand at me dismissively. I stand to leave, hands in fists by my side. “I will find the Stone for you.”
The King doesn’t respond, and I see that he’s gently snoring in the chair.
While he sleeps off the wine, I take the opportunity to reorganize his office for him.
His sickness can only be growing worse as I’ve never seen him this angry at a mere servant before.
Without the Stone, the kingdom is in trouble, and the pressure I carry builds and builds.
I return to my room, flopping on my bed like a dam that’s about to burst.