Chapter Thirty
Isearch for Eliaz in the obvious places first, the dining room, the parlour, even the library – but he is nowhere to be seen.
I stand in the foyer; head upturned to the top of the staircase.
There is no way I’m venturing up to his family quarters again, that lesson has been well and truly learned.
And anyway, for all I know, Eliaz is most likely in Lessom tending to the afflicted and overseeing the rehabilitation process.
Knowing now what I do about the treatment he created, his good deeds seem all the more significant. The image of him in my head is becoming something much changed from the one he placed there on the day of my initiation. Softer. More vulnerable, more honest, more real.
‘You sure have made a habit of loitering around where you’re not wanted.’ A dry voice echoes in my ears. Gruff and grating. Cole’s. I roll my eyes, turning to him.
‘And you’re way less irritating when you’re drunk.’ His hair is fluffed up, freshly washed, his face clean-shaven. Rather than his usual all black attire in copy of Eliaz, he wears an off-white open-collared shirt with no overcoat.
His dark eyes fall to the letter in my hand. ‘What’ve you got there? A love note? I don’t believe anyone to be interested in a little lustful exchanging of notes with the likes of you.’
I narrow my eyes on him, lips tightening in annoyance. ‘You’re just bitter because no one will give you the time of day unless you throw coin at them,’ I spit. His nostrils flare, provoked. ‘I don’t have time for this, Cole. Where is Eliaz?’
‘Why do you need him? I feel it my duty to tell you that he prefers his women much more…’ He gestures to the general area of my face. ‘…attractive. I’m afraid your little letter won’t do anything to sway him romantically – or sexually.’
I kick him in the shins. He exclaims his pain through gritted teeth, clutching at his leg. ‘Gods above, I seem to have hit a nerve.’
‘Me too, it would seem.’ I laugh. ‘Aren’t you used to being thrown about by now? From what I’ve seen around here that’s all you appear to be good for.’
‘You listen here,’ Cole growls as he grabs my wrist, his grip tightening like a vice as he twists my arm to an unnatural angle. ‘Just because he believes you’re harmless doesn’t mean I do. I can see right through your little act, and I will put a stop to it.’
‘You’re hurting me.’ I writhe. The bastard’s grip is surprisingly strong, the skin on my wrist bunching up as I try to twist myself free from him.
He sticks out his bottom lip, tilting his head at me. ‘Aw, the little princess does feel pain. Now let’s see, what kind of headless nonsense do we have here?’
He plucks the letter from my fingertips with his free hand, still restraining me with the other. I try to snatch it back from him, but he only holds it higher.
The obnoxiousness falls from his face, the smug smile replaced with an open-mouthed shock. His whole face flushes with red, as his eyes trace the words on the parchment. Upon seeing the name of the sender, all crimson-ire withdraws from him and his skin takes on a mottled-green.
‘Where did you get this?’ he asks, quiet but forceful. Too wrapped up in confusion by his reaction to the letter, I am unable to stutter out any coherent words. Just a crack of my vocal cords. This pushes him back over the edge into rage once more.
His grip constricts on my wrist even further until his fingernails dig deep into my skin bringing about the stinging emergence of blood. He is inches from my face now.
‘TELL ME!’ he screams, spit landing in my eye causing me to flinch. Tears roll down his cheeks with the strain of his cries. Veins protrude from his neck and forehead, blue and angry. ‘Tell me! Tell Me!’
His concerning reaction to the contents of the letter only pushes me further into reluctance, I cannot disclose to him where I found the letter while he’s in such a state. Not before I talk to Eliaz.
‘Release her, you idiot.’
Speak of the devil.
Cole ceases his screaming, turning to Eliaz, who stands at the foot of the staircase, leaning gently on the banister. His hand does not loosen.
And so, I take my opportunity, bringing my foot right up to meet that sensitive spot between his legs, and striking hard. Cole yells out in pain for the second time, dropping my hand and hunching over. He doesn’t resist when the smirking Eliaz snatches the letter from his hand.
His eyelids flicker and his top lip quivers briefly as he skims the page. ‘Where did you get this?’ he asks me. I look to Cole, biting my lip, wondering whether I should say this in front of him, but seeing as Eliaz does not seem too concerned, I divulge.
‘Your book. I fell asleep holding it and woke up to it thrown across the room. And somehow, this had fallen out. It must’ve been hidden.
’ Something makes me tell a white lie, tell him that the letter had simply fallen from the book rather than ejected.
Perhaps because of the look he gave me when I said the book wouldn’t open for me. He’d think I’ve gone truly mad.
Eliaz nods, reading the letter further. Cole groans, still hunched over ‘It’s addressed to my father,’ I state the obvious.
‘Yes, I see that.’
I lean over the parchment. ‘It’s from—’
‘The Emperor of Attanae. Yes. I can read, you know.’
‘Sorry.’ I drop my shoulders. ‘But this changes everything.’
Eliaz folds the letter over, expression unreadable, and hands it back to me, clearing his throat. His attention falls on Cole.
‘We will talk about this later.’
I await Cole’s reply until I realise that Eliaz’s words were directed at me. ‘What do you mean, we will talk about this later? This letter is literal proof that he was involved in the creation of the Divide. He will have information.’
‘And what makes you think he’d be willing to share it with us?
’ Eliaz’s tone is nothing short of a warning.
He isn’t wrong. Even if the Emperor of Attanae knew something, what are the chances he’d tell us the truth of everything we’d ask of him.
What are the chances he’d talk to us at all?
Or that he’s even still alive? There is no Relic magic there, but his letter was found in a book of Neyktar, so there is a small glimmer of chance that he may still be sustaining life by it.
But it is barely enough for me to remain hopeful. If I had just thought for a second before rushing to find Eliaz, I would’ve most likely come to this conclusion and saved myself the embarrassment of appearing so frantic.
I sigh, nodding slowly. ‘Okay. Fine, we can talk about it later.’
I want to tell him of my dream, the faceless men, the boy with the blue rag. The suffering it forebode. An omen sent directly to me through contact with that wretched, saviour of a book. But it can wait until a time where Cole is not present.
Smiling awkwardly, I blink at Eliaz waiting for him to talk, but his focus remains on his raven-haired friend.
I guess that’s my cue. I turn on my heels, ready to take a step in the direction towards Lillienne’s room, when my wrist snags in the air, held by a hand with a much more gentle grip than Cole’s.
‘Eira, wait.’ It’s Eliaz’s fingers on my arm.
The contact of his skin on mine, makes my cheeks heat and agitates my stomach so that it feels like a blizzard of hot ash within me.
So much so that I furrow my brows at the sight of his hand, following the trail of his arm to his face, which is soft, earnest – imploring.
A single strand of red lazily hanging over his forehead, an imitation of a battle scar.
Not in a way that makes him seem frightening, or intimidating, but with the effect of furthering the vulnerable look that already exists within his molten honey eyes.
An openness that I haven’t seen before, or that might have slipped my notice.
He leans in, perhaps to exclude the grumbling Cole from what he is gearing up to say.
‘Well done, on finding it. I knew I was right to think that you had something different in you that I don’t possess myself.’
‘Eliaz, it was just a coincidence.’
‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘There is no such thing where I am concerned. And we will talk about this later, I promise. There is just something I must attend to beforehand.’
‘Anything that should concern me?’ I ask, my body overcome with a cold shiver for some unknown reason. He shakes his head.
‘I promise, Eira. Find me in the parlour later, or I will come find you.’
I nod, my voice caught in my chest with my breath. With weaker knees I retreat to Lillienne’s room, not daring a backward glance to the Umbrian king. Perhaps, in fear that he might, also, be stealing a last look at me as I leave.