Chapter 29 #2
‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘They wouldn’t do that.’
He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, like he was desperate for her to understand.
‘Zeban went to find it. Others have gone before him, too, seeking the other place. And I think … if we run, Styerra, we can find it, too.’
He was speaking of the Acolyte.
He had to be.
‘You’re scaring me,’ Styerra said. ‘What you speak of, Erath … it’s betrayal. It’s madness.’
For a second, he looked angry.
‘I love you,’ Erath whispered. ‘I would never lead you astray, Styerra. I would never lead you into darkness, unless I was certain it was the only way for us to be together.’ He looked at the ring on his finger. ‘I’ve been matched.’
Styerra gasped.
‘I got the news last night. The Masters say the gods have matched me with another Realmist. I’ll have to join with her, Styerra. To … lie with her.’
Ezer’s stomach twisted.
‘They say I must carry on the lineage. The magic. They say it is my duty to the gods to mate with her, and—’ He closed his eyes, and a tear rolled down his cheek. ‘And what we have will be over.’
Styerra began to cry.
Gently, she lowered herself to the ground, like the news of his matching stole all her strength away.
‘I have three days before I make the Descent,’ Erath said. ‘They’ll send me to complete the matching that night.’ He set the book before her. ‘Will you read it? For me? For us?’
‘There’s nothing to read,’ she pleaded with him. ‘There’s nothing to—’
‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘But there will be, if you believe.’
Ezer wished she could tell her mother not to read the book, that Erath was speaking of the Acolyte and he didn’t even know it.
He was leading them somewhere dark.
He was leading them right towards Lordach’s end.
But Styerra took the book.
‘I will try,’ she said.
Erath kissed her, relieved. ‘I know you’ll see.
We’re meant for each other, Styerra. I will not give my heart to another.
’ He kissed her on the forehead, even as another tear rolled down her cheek.
‘We’ll meet right after my Descent. I’ll be in the Aviary, with Veren saddled and ready.
Meet me there. We’ll leave together to find freedom. And we’ll never look back.’
He kissed her one last time before he turned and walked away.
Styerra wiped her tears. Then she stood, on trembling legs, and opened her cloak to hide the black book inside.
Ezer gasped.
Because there, just barely, was the beginning of a small bump.
A baby.
And Erath …
He didn’t know.
Styerra ran her hands across it, cradling it gently, lovingly. Then she turned and walked away.
If she’d glanced back only once, she would have seen the figure that now peered out from behind a bookshelf. As if they’d been there the whole time, watching. Listening to Erath’s every word.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a shock of red hair and a look of sorrow on his face.
Ezer’s breath caught in her throat.
Because he wasn’t supposed to be here. Because he had no part in this memory.
Because he’d told Ezer, for nineteen years, that he never knew who her mother was.
And yet there he stood, wearing brown servant robes like he was part of the Citadel.
Uncle Ervos.
She woke to pounding pain in the middle of her forehead.
Ezer groaned, wanting to sleep longer.
But the pain came again, followed by a caw.
Ezer opened her eyes, surprised to find a raven filling her vision. It was perched on her chest, illuminated by a spear of moonlight. And it was rearing back, as if to peck her awake again.
‘Stop it,’ she hissed.
The raven hopped away, giving her a glimpse of the trees overhead.
She was on her back, sprawled in the snow. Wet and shivering, and –
Oh, gods.
They’d crashed.
The last thing she remembered, she was on Six’s back. Six was flying, and it was glorious, and Kinlear was laughing behind her and—
Ezer tried to sit up. Stars flickered in her vision as her head wobbled, and she thought she might be sick.
‘H-h-help,’ she whispered.
No footsteps came, but a groan sounded to her right. She rolled to hands and knees, gasping for breath. It was cold.
So, so cold.
Something caught her vision. A delicate golden glow, a few steps into the trees. The snow was carved up, a tree broken in half, as if they’d crashed and slid.
Where was Six?
The groan came again, and her mind registered the shape of runes, covered up by a fresh dusting of snow.
Kinlear’s cloak.
Panic raced through her, shaking her awake.
There was little moonlight, but in the white snow it looked brighter. She could see the prince was on his side, darkness blooming beneath his head.
Blood.
‘Go to him,’ the wind whispered. ‘Hurry.’
Gods, her head.
It was going to explode.
With all her strength, she clawed at the snow until she reached Kinlear.
He was still warm, thanks to his runed cloak, and his heartbeat was steady against her fingertips.
She collapsed against him, wrapping her arms around his body.
Holding him close. The warmth of his cloak seemed to rush through her, thawing her enough to calm the chattering of her teeth.
But her head …
Her eyelids began to shut.
‘Get up,’ said the wind again. ‘Ezer!’
She looked into the woods, trying to keep her eyes open. They were too heavy, and Kinlear was too warm, and …
The Speaking stone.
She dug her hand into her pocket, a relieved sob leaving her throat as she curled her fingers around it.
You’re late for training. Arawn’s voice filled her mind. Skipping out on me, Minder?
She was so tired it took everything in her to think back to him.
Arawn. Darkness slid across her vision. Help.
The last thing she saw before her eyes slid shut again, was Six’s enormous paw prints.
They led off, alone, into the woods.