Chapter 31
Iturn back to the fire, crouching. The flames have dimmed into nothing but smoldering embers again.
I grab some wayward twigs and leaves, throw them on the glowing remnants, and poke at the heap with a stick to coax the fire back to life, trying to find something to do with my hands.
Some way to distract my spinning thoughts.
Some way to dislodge the emotion clogging my throat.
The truth is I haven’t wanted to believe Caene.
A part of me has been fighting against his story since the moment he told me.
It was easier to believe my mother was simply crazy, that she lost her mind after my father died.
It was easier to believe it was just a random act of violence that took him from us, rather than some plot that I’m now unwillingly at the center of. It was easier to hide behind the lies.
Now that the truth has left my lips, I can’t take it back.
I can’t hide behind the lie I so desperately want to cling to anymore.
I wanted my mother to be insane because it would mean she hadn’t lied to me my whole damn life.
She hadn’t hidden the most important parts of myself from me.
She hadn’t thrown me into a world I don’t understand so painfully unprepared.
I’ve tried to tell myself she was keeping everything from me to protect me.
But then why risk bringing the House of Preservation down on us the way she had?
Why kill herself and leave me to cope alone? Why lie?
Because she had lied. She had omitted the truth. She had hid from me. Tears pool in my eyes. I roughly rub them away with the heel of my hand while the other continues to poke at the tiny fire I’d managed to coax from the embers.
“Wait!” Ryfin says, oblivious to the turbulence in my heart, the emotion oozing out of me like bile. “You’re saying it’s true? That Maziar Montbeth murdered Altair Winddane?”
I nod, refusing to look at either of them, still fighting to keep my emotions in check.
“But that would mean the other rumor has to be true as well!”
I look up at Caene, his eyes dark and focused on me.
“Your father has the divination talisman, doesn’t he.” It isn’t a question. His wide eyes dart from me to Caene and back. “That’s why he wants her.”
“Not as dumb as you look, Merula.” Caene tries to lighten the mood while coming to sit next to me, offering me comfort.
He presses his shoulder into mine, watching me closely.
I lean into the comfort he’s offering. It’s only once I have his sturdy presence so close that I realize I’m shaking uncontrollably.
“Shit.” Ryfin sighs, coming to sit on my other side. “I’m sorry Vayna. Truly I am.”I nod but stay silent. I don’t need or want his pity, but I can’t deny I feel a sense of camaraderie here. Ryfin feels safe. I feel safe. With both of them.
Gods only know how long we sit in comfortable, companionable silence together, staring at my dinky fire. Eventually, Ryfin breaks it by slapping his knee, making me jump.
“I better get back to camp. You both should come with me. It’s obvious neither of you have rested or eaten properly in a while.
” Ryfin looks down at me and I know he really means me.
I’m sure I look like something the nevcaei dragged in.
His eyes stay on me, the invitation floating in the air.
I open my mouth to decline but he cuts me off.
“Before you say no.”
I close my mouth. Damn. I really need to learn how to shut my face up. It keeps ratting me out.
“I’m sure you plan to go to Kalsevden to take back the talisman from this asshole’s asshole father.
” He walks around me to Caene, slapping him on the shoulder.
Caene lets out a small grunt, though I’m sure it couldn’t have hurt him.
These two act more like brothers than Caene and his biological ones.
Truthfully, I’ve only briefly considered getting the talisman back from Maziar.
It seemed unnecessary since I’m obviously getting my family’s gifts either way.
My sole focus has been Isi. Getting her to safety.
But now? Things have changed. I still have to get to Isi but if Maziar has her, why not try to kill two birds with one stone.
Rescue Isi, take back my talisman and kill Maziar. Easy.
“But he’s a powerful man. And you, my darling, are not.”
Rude.
When I again open my mouth to argue, he silences me with a wave of his hand. “I am not saying your spirit or your resolve is weak, but your physical body is. You are skin and bone, darling. You look like something a gijire dragged in.”
Also rude. Albeit true.
“You need to be at your best if you’re going to take on the House of Preservation.” His knowing brown eyes stay on mine. I wonder briefly if he can read minds, as he seems to have read me like a godsdamned book.
“You’re going to need help,” he continues softly.
I look at Caene who shrugs, leaving the decision up to me. I look down at my withered body. I can’t see it under the layers of fabric draped over it, but I know what’s in there. And from the look on Caene’s face, so does he. As much as it pains me to admit, Ryfin is right.
My visions don’t give dates and times, so I have no clue if Isi is currently at Death’s door. I chew the inside of my lip.
“Listen.” Ryfin crouches beside me again, placing his hand gently on mine.
It’s so rough and calloused that I’m a little surprised by the tenderness behind the gesture.
“At the very least, you need a proper meal. Both of you. Let me give you that before you return to your travels.” There’s warmth and kindness in his gaze.
He’s not at all what I would have expected from a son of the House of Necromancy.
Black robes and skull masks always seemed to be more their speed.
But Ryfin seems genuine, compassionate. I find myself nodding.
“Wonderful!” He pats my hand, jumping to his feet.
“Come with me, my lady.” He holds out his arm for me. I stand slowly and take it, looping my hand through the crook in his elbow. “You too, my brute,” he says over his shoulder to Caene. I can’t help it. I giggle.
We have to leave Bazil tied at the edge of the forest. I try to coax him into coming with us but he just won’t budge. Reluctantly, I say goodbye for the time being and leave him with enough water to tide him over until we came back. And I sneak him our last apple as an apology for abandoning him.
“Will he be alright? What if someone comes and takes him?” I ask on our journey through the trees.
“The only people who roam these woods that would take him are the Liberated and the odd poacher. The Liberated answer to me and most poachers wouldn’t survive long enough in these trees to find him. Your horse is safe. I promise,” Ryfin tries to reassure me.
“What about gijire? Or the nevcaei?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about the nevcaei. They’d much prefer your flesh to Bazil’s.”
I shudder. “And the gijire?”
A small, knowing smirk flashes across his lips. “Nothing to fear there either, my darling.” He gives my hand a reassuring pat.
We enter the Horde’s camp from the north.
I can’t pinpoint where exactly in the forest it is from the road, but it was about a twenty-minute walk through the fog.
The camp is much nicer than I would have expected.
While these people live in patchwork leather and canvas tents, they appear well-maintained.
The tents spiral out like a snail’s shell pattern from a main common area where a large bonfire is raging in the watered-down early morning light.
Something is roasting in its flames. I assume it’s the camp’s breakfast. The smell wafting from that fire makes my mouth water.
“Don’t you worry about attracting the beasts of this forest?” I ask Ryfin, gesturing to the fire breaking through the mist surrounding it.
His lips quirk up in a sly grin. “We have very little to fear from the creatures in this forest.” I think back to the small girl who nearly bested me.
I believe him until my mind conjures up the image of the gijire.
That hulking, bloodthirsty animal could rip through these tents like parchment.
The claws of the nevcaei would make short work of them as well.
Not to mention the other creatures rumored to live within these trees that I haven’t had the displeasure of encountering yet. A very unladylike snort escapes me.
“Don’t believe me?” Ryfin’s smug smile makes me regret my doubt a little.
He puts his hand on mine in the crook of his arm and squeezes, then steers me toward a tent separate from all the rest. My muscles tense as I look back at Caene, who is still following behind.
My reflex is to fight, to get away from Ryfin quickly.
I’m still not certain he can be trusted, though my instincts say he can.
And my instincts are usually right. Caene only looks amused.
I ignore the urge to escape and let Ryfin lead me to the tent.
Ryfin opens the flap for me. I duck under and am slapped in the face by the smell of wet, rotting foliage.
I immediately understand why this tent was separated from the rest. Alarm bells go off in my head and panic creeps up my throat as I try to slowly back out of the tent.
I’m stopped by Ryfin’s muscular chest at my back.
I look back at him, ready to reach for my dagger. My instincts were clearly wrong.
He lights a torch and the large, circular space comes to life. In paddocks and cages throughout the space are what appear to be gijire. Though . . . not.
I had thought all gijire looked like the one Caene killed—enormous cats—but these are all shapes and sizes. While some do resemble cats, others resemble owls or bears. They all appear as though they’re covered in decaying leaves or pine needles and have large, pointed fangs.
My mouth hangs open. They’re docile, calm.
Some of them are so large they could easily hop the walls of their paddocks and tear their way through the camp, yet they stay.
Swallowing my terror, I inch toward one of the wooden pens.
The beast inside resembles a stag covered in sharp leaves, except it only has one antler.
I look back at Caene standing just inside the flap of the tent.
He nods. Swallowing, I reach out very slowly, careful not to startle it.
Neither Ryfin nor Caene moves to stop me.
The gijire sniffs my outstretched fingers, seems to think for a moment, then nuzzles its spiny snout into my hand.
I release a breath and will my heart to slow.
I still haven’t been able to shut my gaping mouth.
“That’s Kyu. We found him half dead about a month ago. Likely hurt by poachers.” Ryfin comes to stand next to me.
“Poachers?” The word finally forces my mouth and mind to work again.
Ryfin nods. “Certain body parts, like those antlers, fetch a hefty price in the underground. They’re used as decoration for the wealthy. Other species are used for medicines or aphrodisiacs.” He gestures to the others.
I shake my head. “People hunt them? They aren’t supposed to even exist. Most people in the Rookery believe they are fictional, stories.”
“The Exalted and the other rich work hard for the Condemned to believe these creatures aren’t real, little Dove,” Caene explains. “To suppress curiosity and spread fear. If Condemned find out how valuable these animals are, they can use them to increase their status. The Exalted don’t want that.”
Ryfin nods again. “It’s probably the only thing the Exalted and the Liberated agree on, keeping these majestic animals secret.
But the Condemned are getting more desperate.
More people are risking coming into the forest to find food or things to trade.
Unfortunately, that means they’re coming across gijire.
” He sighs and shakes his head. “Kyu here is almost ready to be released back into the wild.”
He reaches into a bucket near Kyu’s pen, pulling out a hunk of raw meat. I withdraw my hand, and he tosses the treat to Kyu. He catches it midair, swallowing it whole.
I furrow my brows. “I thought they only drank blood.”
Ryfin chuckles lightly. “Myth. They will suck their prey dry, but they also enjoy a hearty meal of flesh.” I suppress a shudder.
“You’re nursing all of these back to health?” I ask, gesturing to the pens and birdcages.
“Yes. They are far more intelligent than the stories say. If you help them, they help you. It’s as simple as that.
Quid pro quo, if you will.” Ryfin reaches for the beast. Kyu responds immediately, nuzzling and licking Ryfin’s hand.
Its tongue is the strangest shade of yellow. Like egg yolk but darker.
I look back at Caene, who is still hovering just inside the tent flaps, suddenly feeling very guilty for the one he killed. He offers a small, consoling smile. I offer him one back, knowing he probably feels the same guilt. He didn’t have a choice but to kill that gijire that attacked us.
“Have any ever escaped? Caused harm inside the camp?” I ask Ryfin.
“Occasionally. It’s unfortunate but some come to us so terrified of humans that they can’t or won’t accept that we’re trying to help them.”
“What do you do when that happens?”
“First we’ll try to recapture them, but if that doesn’t work we do what’s necessary to keep the camp safe.
Gijire, though intelligent, are wild. They have minds and wills of their own.
We respect these creatures so greatly that we say a small prayer to the goddesses of the earth to take the gijire into their loving arms, to give them peace, when we must take drastic measures.
Thankfully, most eventually come to understand we are helping them.
” Kyu continues to nuzzle and lick Ryfin’s hand lovingly.
“Come,” he says, pulling his hand back from Kyu. “You must be famished.”
He strides for the tent flaps, leaving Caene and me behind.
“You’ve spent time among the Horde before. It’s how you knew the prayer to say over the gijire you killed.” It isn’t a question.
“I’m familiar with them, yes.”
“Were you planning on telling me at some point?”
“No.”
I wait for him to continue, leveling him with a look that hopefully tells him exactly how I feel about that.
His dark chuckle sends a shiver down my spine. “We better follow Ryfin or he might feed us to the gijire next.”
He turns and strolls out after his friend, leaving me alone in the tent of monsters, as though he didn’t just say one of the most horrifying things imaginable.
I creep toward the bucket outside Kyu’s pen, peering inside.
There’s blood and gore but no way to tell what creature it came from.
I shudder and, with one last look at Kyu, scurry out after them.