Chapter 30 #2
“What about my vengeance? I’m owed blood for what that man did to my husband!” she demands, her voice unbearably high-pitched.
“I said. Go. Back.” At the look on his face and the deep, commanding rumble of his voice she scurries back into the forest, muttering under her breath.
“You as well!” I hear rather than see the person behind the tree take off, crashing through the brush. I still haven’t gotten to my feet.
Caene raises an eyebrow. “Seems like you more than joined them.”
Merula waves a dismissive hand. “It was easy to climb the ranks when they saw what I can do.” His rich brown eyes meet mine again, amusement and awe sparkling behind them.
“What are you doing with her, Caene? In the Elvael Forest of all places?” The sparkle dulls to concern as he turns his face back to his friend.
Caene sighs. “I’ve been asking myself that for the past two weeks.”
I bristle and clamber to my feet, finally finding my voice. “Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on? Who, in the abysm, are you?”
“Apologies, my lady.” I roll my eyes at the mocking title. “I am Ryfin Merula. House of Necromancy.” He bows with a flourish.
“Necromancy. As in . . . dead people?”
“The very same. My gift is reanimation.”
“What does that mean?”
He leans in close. I tense but don’t move away. There’s something about him that I find both fearsome and captivating. It makes me want to simultaneously run from him and be nearer to him, listen to him. It’s an unfamiliar feeling.
“It means, dear one, I can bring people back from oblivion, from the very grip of Death himself,” he whispers into the shell of my ear.
I scoff. “Bullshit. That’s impossible.” I may have accepted that the gifts of the Exalted are real, having seen them for myself numerous times, but no one can steal from Death.
His lips quirk up as bends to retrieve his sword. I still don’t move away. He straightens with a gleam in his eyes. “Would you like me to prove it?”
Caene’s hand clasps roughly around Ryfin’s forearm. “Not a chance, cockhead,” he rumbles.
Ryfin pouts, dropping the sword to his side. “You’re no fun.”
I gape. “He’s no fun because he won’t let you kill me? Are you insane?”
“First of all.” He holds up one finger. “You have to be at least a little insane to survive the House of Necromancy.” He waggles his eyebrows.
“And secondly, I’d bring you back.” His eyes darken.
“Providing, of course, I get to you in time.” He flashes me a wolfish smile that sends shivers down my spine.
At the look on my face, Caene and Ryfin both roar with laughter. I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes at them.
“How did you find us?” I ask. I was sure we covered our tracks, and the change of subject might make them stop laughing at me.
“This one’s snores led us right to you.” Ryfin nudges Caene playfully.
“Better than you slurping your food.” Caene smirks.
Ryfin’s hand flies to his chest in mock indignity. “I eat like a perfect gentleman. You wound me, Montbeth.” Ryfin turns his attention back to me. “Tell me he treats you better than he does me.”
“Depends on the day,” I say, a smirk creeping across my face. Despite the threat of death and resurrection, I think I like Ryfin. Anyone who speaks to Caene like this, without a hint of fear, is alright in my books.
“So tell me, Miss . . .”
“Vayna.”
“Miss Vayna. What are you doing in this godsforsaken forest with this godsforsaken man?” He throws his arm around Caene’s shoulders. He’s only a few inches shorter than Caene and they absolutely tower over me. And probably most of the men in the Rookery.
What is in the water up at the Estates?
I look to Caene, unsure of what I should share or how much, unsure if Ryfin can be trusted. At my unspoken question, Caene nods. I trust Caene and he seems to trust Ryfin.
“His family wants to either torture me or enslave me.” I try to keep my voice light despite the topic. “Caene’s helping me get to safety.”
I hope that’s enough information to placate him. He seems to know Caene well, so hopefully that means he understands the Montbeth family as well.
Ryfin’s eyebrows lower, and he eyes Caene. “You’re actively disobeying your father?”
Caene shrugs.
“Well shit!” He slaps his knee. “This is the best news I’ve heard in months! A Montbeth! Going rogue!” His laughter is filled with excitement. “Now you’re just like me!”
Caene shoves Ryfin off him. “I’m not like you.”
I expect Ryfin to be offended but he just continues laughing. His laugh is deep and jovial. It’s hard not to smile.
He regains his composure, letting the laughter drift off through the fog. “And how do you have gifts from the gods? You are a woman after all, and presumably without a talisman.”
I open my mouth to argue, to deny. He doesn’t need to know everything.
“I can sense it in you, so don’t bother denying it.” I snap my mouth shut. He smiles. “We of the House of Necromancy can sense things others can’t. It’s how we are able to commune with the dead.” He wiggles his fingers and widens his eyes.
“If you can commune with the dead, does that mean you can speak to Death himself?” I ask, unable to stop myself.
“No. And don’t change the subject.”
Damn.
I think for a moment, trying to find a way out of this conversation. “It’s complicated,” I say, fairly certain that won’t dissuade him.
He waits for me to continue with patience. I look to Caene to help get me out of this but he just shrugs. “It’s your story, Aelavi. Your choice.”
I growl and throw my hands up in frustration.
“My father was Altair Winddane. He and my mother wouldn't dispose of me so they hid me instead. I grew up in the Rookery of Kalsevden. I apparently started seeing the future, then his cockhead brothers kidnapped me. The patriarch of the House of Rejuvenation, Zave Asa, tried to force information from my mind, which, if you don’t know, is incredibly painful. He was trying to find how I’m supposedly ‘stealing’ my powers, even though they are allegedly mine to begin with.
He was unsuccessful. Caene got me out and we’ve been on the run ever since.
We now have to go back to Kalsevden to protect my friend, but instead of traveling I’m standing here explaining myself to a madman who thinks he can raise the dead. ”
I suck in a deep breath, having said all that in one. It feels strangely liberating to confess all that, to finally say it out loud. Whether or not that was a good decision, I’m not sure.
Ryfin stares at me, mouth agape. I shift uncomfortably on my feet.
“First of all.” He holds up one finger again.
“I’m not a madman. I can raise the dead.
Secondly, you wouldn’t be traveling right now, it’s dark.
And thirdly, you’re telling me you’re a Winddane?
From the House of Divination? The house that died out almost two decades ago?
And that this motherfucker’s father is working with another patriarch?
” Ryfin’s voice gets higher pitched with each question.
Caene’s hand comes down on Ryfin’s shoulder hard. “Close your mouth. You look like an idiot.” He comes around to stand next to me.
“I’m sorry! But holy gods above, Death below, and goddesses of the earth! I’ve been obsessed with the story of the Winddanes since I was a child. There were all these rumors around your father’s death. There was even this crazy Condemned woman in the Rookery blaming Maziar Montbeth himself!”
“She wasn’t crazy!” I snap. “She was my mother.” His mouth snaps shut. “And she was right. About everything.”