Chapter 22
twenty-two
The spires of Eltidian began to rise around us, and with them came iced over holes where the snow had melted. Now, only a few patches of wilted grass peeked through. I must have stared at one for a little too long, because Aelen ceased his long strides to stare me down.
“We’ll never make it there if you don’t keep up.”
“The melt holes—they’re filling in.”
He nodded and turned away to hide the frown that marred his features—but not quickly enough. That grin slipped from him faster than the cold returned.
“People gave their lives for less than a week of warmth?”
“It didn’t use to be so brief—it used to give us months of heat, enough to make the fields bloom—but not anymore. Now their sacrifices merely keep the ice from setting in and overtaking everything. I hoped it would last longer.”
“What about your Archon? What does he think?” This time, I jumped before him to study his response.
I’d had an inkling since he’d first brought it up that the great leader was his father, and I waited for any slip to confirm it.
He seemed so startled at the name, yet knew enough of him to bargain on my behalf.
When I strode before him, he carefully avoided my gaze and pointed questions. He hummed, and the noise reverberated through his chest. His avoidance of the subject was a little too on the nose.
“What’s his name again?” I pressed and searched his face for any betrayal of emotion.
“Rectorindel Maelindiir,” he replied flatly, stepping around me.
“An unusual name.”
“Not unusual for an I’phri,” he shot back. “Had enough rude questions for the day, or would you also like to interrogate me about how often I piss?”
There was no discernible change in his demeanor, besides his obvious annoyance.
“Maybe he could solve this, the curse that’s overrun the lands.”
“If he could, I believe he would have,” he clipped, balling his fists as we approached the sprawling city.
The reassurance it provided was measly compared to the relief that I might be able to confront Aelen’s father.
“And how do we plan on getting him to see me? Blind luck?” The crowd grew thicker, and we had to cut through to get to the square. My voice was lost in the cacophony of the busy street.
“Not so much blind luck as you blindly following what I instruct you to do. Every day, he takes a certain number of requests from citizens. Normally, this boils down to healing ailing peasants. I’m going to enter first and explain the circumstances, after which you’ll enter the glass palace, join the line, and bow down in the hopes he accepts you. ”
“What if he doesn’t take me?”
He blinked at me blankly. “Perhaps you should vomit all over the floor. That may aid you in being chosen.” He bristled. “He’ll see you. That’s why I’m going in first.”
We finally found the square, a few I’phri bumping into me. The outskirts were practically abandoned, like all the people had converged into the center of Eltidian. Now, most wore linen robes in various muted tones with intricately embroidered cloaks and woolen scarves.
Except a handful of I’phri decked in riding leathers, who ducked into the tavern.
“You wait outside, I’ll come get you in a bit,” Aelen said. “Try not to get into too much trouble.”
I nodded and smiled, hiding the lie, and waited until he was out of sight before I fled to the tavern. I would train with Mourn, and kill my father—but I’d be damned if I gave up my dicing and cards. I deserved a stiff drink.
And after what Aelen had told me about Arthvur, I needed one.
Once in the tavern, the warm air and crept across my skin, mingling with the scent of ash and clove from the I’phri's long pipes. Where had the solemn acceptance gone? Now they hung in small chattering groups, nursing drink after drink, smoking and whispering to each other behind trembling palms.
Before, this place was half empty. Today, I couldn’t find a free table in the damn establishment.
But the familiar group of heckling leather-clad riders clung to the bar, and I bolted for them.
I didn’t have to see their solemn faces to know it was Nenyln harassing the barkeep for a drink—and Lilara tapping her foot beside him.
“Where’s Teryn?”
Lilara spun, but Nenlyn didn’t bother, instead waving for his drink. The sour look on her face curdled my stomach. “Aren’t you going to greet us? Or did you come looking for the bastard?” She shook her head and leaned onto her elbows. “He’s brooding with the dragons.”
What did he do to her?
“Sorry,” I replied and scratched my scalp sheepishly. “How have you been?”
“Terrible,” Nenyln replied over his shoulder. “Everyone’s all weepy, and it’s impossible to get a drink. He only bothered to face me after the tavern keeper placed an overfull wine glass before him.
After tipping it back and guzzling it until a thick red flow ran down his chin, he slammed it down and continued. “And where have you been? We’ve been looking for you. Heard the old midnight boy took a flight.” His knowing gaze studied my features, searching for a betrayal.
If he already knew, I might as well come clean. “We went for a ride. Nothing of importance.”
“You took the only unbondable beast into the air?” He scoffed with a smirk. “You devil. How’d your little flight go? We saw him soar toward the far reaches of Eltide.”
“It would have gone better had he crossed the border for me.”
Nenlyn was halfway into his next drink, but as the words dropped from my tongue, he violently spit and began hacking. Beside him, Lilara’s jaw dropped, but she turned and pretended she didn’t hear.
“Singers above, you tried to go toward the twin city? Without the Archon’s permission?” He shook his head. “I’ve seen you play cards, I thought you were smarter than that.”
“That’s rude,” I shot back.
Lilara snorted. “You must have taken quite a hit to the head if you thought you could go without him directing the dragons that way.”
“I think it might be stupidity instead of a brain injury,” Nenlyn cut in. “No wonder Numen chased after you.”
“You saw Numen? And Aelen?”
He raised a brow, flicking his gaze to Lilara and then back to me. “Who’s Aelen?”
I rolled my shoulders. Of course, he hadn’t heard of Aelen—it’s a nickname. The others would recognize he hated that and avoid it. “Aelendir, the trainer.”
Lilara turned her attention to her glass and sauntered to an open chair, seemingly done with the conversation.
“Never heard of him.” Nenyln drained the rest of his glass before turning to me with wine-marred eyes, pupils the size of dinner plates.
He inched closer, his tall frame hanging over me before placing a forceful hand on my shoulder.
“I’m worried about you and your memory condition.
Y’know I heard the Archon opened up his benefaction, you should see if he’ll heal that for you.
His fingers dug, but not painfully, playfully as he leaned in.
My heart drummed beneath my throat.
I gently removed his hand, and he gave me a weak smile. “Thank you, but—”
“What are you doing in here?” Aelen hissed from over my shoulder.
He took my wrist and tugged me away from the drunken I’phri.
But when I met his gaze, anger pooled in his iris, blazing with something I couldn’t put my finger on.
He lowered his voice until only I could hear the veiled rage. “Did he put his hand on you?”
“No, he just touched my shoulder.”
“He touched your shoulder?” he gritted. His gaze flicked from me and fell onto the drunken I’phri, now humming to himself. “I saw the way he looked at you. The I'phri have been loose with their cocks and love since the edict. You are not his plaything.”
"He's just drunk! I've had far worse happen to me back at the Gelded Eye in Elatria."
His face changed in an instant, any amusement dropping from him like a stone thrown into water. And in the following ripples I found something terrifying.
"What sorts of things?" His ears flushed to a violent crimson.
That was when I recognized the thing swimming across his features: murder.
"Nothing too bad—"
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me close, his breath burning my neck. "What did they do to you? Speak the truth to me, Lorelana, and stop veiling your words with the lace of lies. I see right through you."
I bit my lip. "Sometimes they'd get drunk and grope me. I'd deliver the gift of a dagger into their palm as payment." But I chewed on my cheek, drawing blood.
"You're leaving something off."
I pressed my lids together, trying to erase the memory, but some things stained the mind like wine.
Worse, I knew Aelen wouldn't let up until I relented, as much as I'd like to bury this where even the worms couldn't find it.
"One time someone lost a game to me pitifully.
He was drunk but not enough to dull his ego, so he took it out on me.
Grabbed me and threw me into the dark storeroom and told me he wanted to deflower a princess.
" I raised my chin but the tears dribbled down my cheeks anyway.
"I fought him off in the end. Bit his hand he tried to muffle my screams with but…
." But he'd still left a scar that would never leave.
"And you wonder why I think them monsters!" he exploded.
"They're not!"
"He lost a game and since he couldn't best you in intelligence, he used violence and brute force.
I will not allow the I'phri to treat you the same.
Rot spreads when you let these acts go unanswered they will not become that.
" Aelen rolled his shoulders back and pointed to Nenlyn.
"Because I cannot eviscerate the bastard that did that to you, I will make an example out of him. "