Chapter 31
thirty-one
The ground began to freeze, spreading across the stone, but only for a few heartbeats. In the blink of an eye, it melted away. I switched to a song of heat. Of the rising sun and blazing embers, but flames only licked the stone pavers for a few seconds before extinguishing.
Please, Mourn, help me.
But he groaned. When Ovatar set his sights on him, fear intruded on me, pumped through me as I realized Ovatar could hurt him. Maim him. Kill him.
“Mourn, leave,” I yelled. I half hoped he’d hesitate, but he didn’t. He seared my skin with a blanket of steam that the wind of his wings whipped away. One beat, two, and he took off, soaring back toward Eltide.
And left me alone. With Ovatar.
But he didn’t bother to look; he merely laughed. The sound grated on me like glass beneath my fingernails. “Are you done playing with your divine refuse? How quickly you send him away.”
He’s a heathen of the highest order—calling Mourn trash.
“Bastard,” I screamed and barreled for him, devoid of all weapons but brimming with spite.
“Your suffering isn’t enough—I want more,” he said, inhaling until his chest was bloated.
Before I reached him, he sidestepped me, leading me into a trap of encroaching guards. I tried to retreat but found that exit too, gone.
My hands flew across my sides, searching for anything to cave in his skull. “He was right about you! I should have listened.”
He ceased his tirade of mocking to stare me down. “The weak scion, whose scent is all over you—you should have listened to him? The liar?” He pushed me back until there was nowhere else to go, and his rancid smell stung in my nostrils.
“Don’t call him that!” I screamed. “He’s more than you could ever be!”
“You trust him.” His smile curled upward until my stomach turned. “You shouldn’t.”
“You don’t know anything about him!”
“I know more than you will ever. In fact—” He edged closer until he loomed over me. “—I know what else he didn’t tell you. Do you know why he sent you on this mission?”
“My father, the one you possessed, is pure evil. He betrayed the I’phri, and I will kill him after I slaughter you.”
“No,” he sneered. “Foolish. Insolent. Stupid. Child.”
He moved closer, and I fell back a step into the line of guards.
They shoved me back, straight into Ovatar’s palm.
It whipped against the side of my face and struck me to my knees.
The world spun, but his mocking face did not, stark and unmoving.
“Inside your father is a chunk of his lumen, the very same one he passed to you. The very magic you call but will not come. Maelindiir wishes to reclaim both.”
He wanted the magic inside me?
“He wouldn’t—”
“He would. And has. Why else wouldn’t his riders claim your father’s life? Should they, his aura would leave and return to me. But if you did it, you would consume it and hold it. Ripe to be taken.” He leaned down and grabbed me by the collar of my jack, wrenching me up like a doll.
“Stop!” A plea, almost a beg. What have I become?
“Then he could find you. Weak and lovesick, and pluck it from you. Like a wilted flower.”
My mouth dried, and my voice caught in my throat. “Aelen wouldn’t.”
“Aelen. You’re even calling him a moniker, how droll. Maelindiir would, and was, counting on it. You think he could love someone with a hundredth of his lifespan? Or an iota of his power? He is the spawn of a god and wears it well. What are you, but his current flavor?”
“Aelen—”
“Loved you? Say it. It pleases me,” he hissed, widening his gnarled grin.
“Tell me of the lies he told you. After all, he is my progeny.” He threw me to the ground, forcing me to my forehead until I cried out, thinking he might crush me.
“Now bow before your true god, unruly child. Paint the wind with your screams.”
“He wouldn’t do that to me,” I grunted, trying to drag myself from the stone.
Ovatar snatched a sword from one of the adjoining guards. His smirk showed yellow teeth I no longer recognized, and his eyes reflected the same. “He would. Was going to, and never loved you. You were always means to an end—and yes. It would have killed you.”
I couldn’t find the words to protest before the hilt of the sword came down on my head, and the welcoming darkness ate me whole.
I never felt them dragging me, but as I came to on the cold, hard stone, I felt the remnants of the journey in the form of bruises and countless scrapes. My forehead pounded, a bitter memory of what occurred as I stirred and observed the dungeon they’d brought me to.
With my vision hazy, I couldn’t tell if it was the same cell as the one I’d been held in before. But I was certain it had bars. And I was on the wrong side of them.
After failing twice, I finally managed to pull myself to and shake them, but it was useless. They didn’t give, and no amount of buckets or chains would give me the freedom I sought.
So I returned to the corner, threw my head against the wall so violently it buzzed like I was wine drunk, and searched for the answers that eluded me. All the while, I fled from the deluge of pain.
The chill had finally set in, and the night had come.
With it, the little light the small window cast disappeared, replaced by pure, utter darkness.
Even in the midnight room, I’d squint and peer at the mysterious corner.
I stared at the inky shadows and prayed they’d move.
But they never did—not even a little. And when the tears slipped down my cheeks, I didn’t stop them.
Everything was over. I had nothing left, yet still in the quiet of my mind, I found myself praying for him.
Not Ovatar, but the one I’d dared to share my heart and bed with. I needed answers. For him to tell me it was a lie. A carefully crafted story by Ovatar to turn me against him.
The tears came faster. Quickly, my sleeves soaked, and soon my cheeks burned. I’d prodded my face earlier, checking for wounds, and found a dried and clotted gash. The wound brimmed with pain, a welcome respite from what brewed inside. Anything to take my mind off him.
I pulled myself from the unforgiving stones and shuffled my feet toward the dark. As soon as I entered, the temperature plummeted. But I didn’t stumble back, I let the lightless corner consume me.
Fear writhed low in my guts, twisting and snapping. I wondered if it would be preferable to bend over and hurl whatever remained inside. But instead, I raised a trembling hand and knocked on the stone.
Tap, tap, tap.
Come and tell me it’s not true.
Then, in the dour silence, I lingered and waited.
When there was no response, I glared at the back of my hand.
I wished desperately for the marking to flash or brighten.
I didn’t care if it burned, ached, or felt like a thousand suns or even a million needles.
All I wanted was for there to be a sign, any sign of the pact that had tried to kill me.
For a single reminder of the past few months and everything that happened. But there was nothing.
I was alone.
Then, and only then, did I allow myself to weep.
Through my tears, I’d found more adjoining silence. Even the rats choose not to squeak, and let my sobs echo in the small space.
The sun had come and gone. The brief cycle had brought no visitors. No one had come to see me, or dared to pass my bars. The other cells were empty, and the prison devoid of screams to break the perpetual quiet.
I was alone.
Truly alone.
I searched for a song, but when I opened my mouth, the only thing that came was a sob. So I lay my head against the cool stone and rapped on the rocks.
Tap, tap, tap.
“Aelen,” I whispered, not to the room, but to myself. How could I be so angry with someone and simultaneously wish for nothing but them?
I’m a fool.
I forced my fingers between the stone pavers. I let myself love and that was my fault. I never should have cared, never should have opened myself up to him. When I reached further into myself, it wasn't sorrow I found, but rage, a seething serpent coiling in my chest.
I could sit and weep but it wouldn't get me out of this cell. If I were to die anyway, why should I hold back?
I threw the paver across the cell, and it slammed into his corner with a violent crack.
"I know you can hear me, Aelen mark my words.
I swear to the Starsingers above if you don't show yourself right now I will never forgive you.
I will hunt you down, separate your skin from bone and cleave you to pieces.
No god can keep me from the wrath I will inflict upon you! "
My chest heaved with great, angry breaths.
When further tears escaped me, something licked at my shoulders. The void-like corner moved and spreading across the bricks. My heart jumped—but not from fear. The shadows snaked up my spine and chest until they wrapped around me—and squeezed.
The back of my hand grew warm, and words came, but I didn’t hear them with my ears; I just knew them.
Let me hold you.
“You let me cry alone!” The worst response I could muster, but it was all I could do to not wring his shadows.
You didn’t want me here.
“I knocked.” My voice hung in my throat, dry and raspy. “I called. I needed you and you ignored me.”
I didn't ignore you, I thought you’d curse my name.
I stilled. He didn’t deserve a response. They'd thrown me in a cell and he came to whine like a petulant child.
Shadows licked—nipped—my cheeks. It wasn’t playful nor painful. He wanted me to answer him. The inky tendrils snaked up my face and recoiled when they grazed my clotted wound.
They hurt you. You’re dying and alone. Speak to me.
“I’m not dying,” I said, but my sandpapery throat and throbbing headache spoke otherwise. “I’m not dead,” I corrected.
Let me comfort you. The words rolled across my body with the shadows, and I merely nodded. They hugged me tighter, stealing away the chill of the prison. I’m here for you.
But something hung between us. Through the tenderness of his shadow, there was hesitation and anxiousness. The way he rolled down my arms, trembling. So I thought I’d rip the truth free.
“You're not here for me. I'm here because of you. You lied to me. Again. And again.” With the words came tears, but before I wiped them or pretended they weren’t there, he lapped them away.
I avoided the question that hung deep in my gut.
If I were being entirely honest with myself, the answer terrified me.
I’m sorry.
“Sorry doesn’t heal. It doesn’t take the pain away. It won’t fix what you’ve done or get me out of this cell.” I swallowed back my pride and opened myself up. “I don't even know who you are!” My yell echoed between us.
Do you know what a burden shame is to carry? Its great and incessant weight? Time does not heal all wounds, Lorelana. For some, it makes them fester and weep.
“Like the one you forced onto my hand? The pact you made me sign?”
The shadows shivered before settling into the crook of my neck. You must know by now that I regret it.
“I know nothing of the sort! You’ve lied to me about everything, about who you are, what you are…” Ovatar's words rang in my head and I pushed away his shadows, sinking into my knees.
I never cared who Aelen's father was beyond curiosity. It could be Ovatar, or even some I'prhi in the tavern, but if I was just a pawn to him—collateral damage in his revenge…
At the moment my heart was a fickle, shredded thing but I didn't think we could come back from that.
Something’s wrong. What are you holding back? I’ll not lie to you again or show you another false face. I won’t add yet another illusion to the ocean of deceit.
I licked my desiccated lips and searched for the right words, the ones that would bring me the answer I desired. “You never told me your father was Ovatar.”
The shadows tightened around my shoulders, no longer a comforting hug but an uneasy serpent. That is my burden of shame.
“Why did it have to be me? Why do I have to kill him? Why couldn’t it be any of your dragon riders, or you?”
I’m bound to this realm.
He responded far too quickly and avoided my first question. “But why not them? You have an entire army, do you not?” I pressed.
I do.
“Why not THEM?” I inhaled a shuddering breath, anything to calm myself.
What did O’tvar tell you?
“You know what he told me!” I screamed.
What did he say?
“That you wanted my magic—that you needed my father’s. That it needed to be me who took it so you could steal it from me. That the process would kill me.”
The shadows stilled, loosening their grip. “Aelen—tell me it’s not true.”
Silence.
“Tell me it’s not true!” I yelled, tears slipping down my face. “Speak, goddamnit. You’ve done nothing but hide. Hide yourself, your intentions, your everything. After everything, I found you hiding in a hall of your own goddamn reflections! Which one of them is you?”
All of them.
I punched the stone wall, blooming pain across my shredded knuckles as I screamed. “Then stop hiding!”
There’s nowhere left for me to hide. In the pain of your departure, I shattered every last mirror. Now I lie here in a pool of broken glass, and every shard reminds me of you. I’m sorry, little bird.
The shadows released me. They slid across the room, snaking up the bars until they came to the rusted lock.
In one smooth movement, they snaked inside, and with a resounding click, the lock fell open and the door creaked ajar.
I was too stunned to move, as they flooded along the floor like a midnight pool.
I never should have caged you. You were never meant to be imprisoned. Be free, little bird.
Then, without another word, the shadows dissipated. The darkness swam to the corners, leaving stillness behind.
My voice caught in my throat as I ran to the bars, throwing them open. “Get back here,” I screamed. “Come back, you coward!”
But it was for nothing. He was gone. And the memories he left twisted in my guts and tugged until I thought I might tear every last hair out of my scalp. He couldn’t be gone. The bastard never answered my question.
And if he wouldn’t answer it, I would go to him.
No, I wouldn’t run into his arms. I would hunt him down, find him, and force the truth from him. He wouldn’t find any escape. I’d pursue him to the end of the world until I got my answers.
And the only place I’d find them was across a frozen river.