Chapter 30
Chapter
Durminas lay more than a week’s ride from White City, far inland, toward the gray mountains that vanished into mist.
We followed the high road through dense forests where the leaves whispered of coming rain and the moss swallowed the sound of hooves.
We met nothing suspicious. No trace of the Plague.
No rot, no shadow of monsters. The farther we rode from White City, the healthier the world appeared, the more alive.
As though these lands had not yet heard the rumors of the end.
I had grown weary of travel. Each night dragged me back to the same dreams full of screams, nightmares and the dark-haired man.
Aidenar stayed always at my side, nevertheless his nearness was no longer enough. I was spent. I scarcely slept, and the days passed in a haze as I swayed half-conscious in the saddle.
Whoever awaited us in Durminas had to help me. Even if it were a mountain demon. I was ready to pay any price to regain control over myself.
On the sixth day the castle appeared on the horizon, and I froze.
I had never seen anything like it. Durminas was no ordinary fortress.
It had been carved from the very heart of the mountain.
Gray, soaring towers rose from the living rock like blades, and between them arched bridges so narrow they seemed like lines drawn against the sky.
The walls melded with the cliff, forming one immense, breathing creature.
It was monumental. Unyielding.
Aidenar drew rein and simply gazed for a long moment.
“When were you last here?” I asked softly.
“Five years ago,” he answered after a pause. “We left with my parents for White City, before the Regency began. They were beginning their work to gain it. We never returned.”
We climbed the steep causeway while above us a great eagle wheeled, its wings spread wider than the sails of my family’s ships.
Kael and Brenn stood in awe of the mighty fortress.
In Durminas everything felt larger. More perilous.
I had always pictured Aidenar raised in sun-drenched White City, though here he had grown, among these savage heights.
At the final turn we passed beneath a heavy iron gate. Its groan echoed across the courtyard. A welcoming party awaited us. Several nobles in long gray cloaks, a handful of guards, and at the center… her.
An older woman, tall and straight as a sword. Silver hair bound in a single thick braid. Her gown, simple yet regal, matched the color of the stone. She carried a stillness about her, but within that stillness lurked something keen and dangerous.
Aidenar dismounted and walked toward her.
Before he could speak, she raised her hand and struck him across the face with an open palm.
Every soul in the yard drew a breath.
Aidenar did not flinch. He bowed his head in submission.
“Five years,” she said, voice hard as flint. “Five years, and not once did you think to visit your family home? What was so important in that white henhouse that you could not spare a single journey home?”
“Mina…” Aidenar’s tone was quiet. “You are right. I failed you.”
She studied him a moment longer, then sighed. “Well. No use weeping over spilled milk. Come here, boy.” She pulled him into her arms and held him with the fierce love only one person in all the world can give.
When they parted, she looked him full in the eyes.
“And now tell me why you honor me with your presence. I know the Plague spreads in the capital, but I will not believe you rode here out of tender worry. Durminas offers neither young women nor amusements to suit your tastes.”
A mocking smile curved her lips, and the words pricked my heart. “Do you truly think I don’t know what you’re doing in the palace, Aidenar?”
“Mina, please,” he said, sounding once more like a boy who was ten years old again. “I came here to take care of things. And also I need your help.”
He turned and looked toward me, extending his hand in invitation.
I pushed back my hood and walked forward slowly. I wore a dark blue leather riding suit, marked with the emblems of the Veymaris Family. My red hair fell loose over my shoulders.
The woman went very still. Her face drained of color.
“Sarah…?” she whispered. “How can this be… it is impossible…” She lifted a hand as though to touch me, then let it hover in the air.
“Mina, this is Nerissa Veymaris,” Aidenar said, surprised by her reaction. “Victor’s daughter.”
“Nerissa,” he continued, turning to me, “this is Minerva Cavareth. My grandmother.”
Minerva stared at me for a long while, as if she could see straight through my skin.
“Daughter of Victor,” she repeated, more to herself than to us. “Daughter of… Sarah.” Her gaze traveled over every part of me. “Interesting.”
Then her expression softened, as though she had stepped back into the present. She looked around at everyone.
“Oh, Peter, it is good to see you. You have grown thin. Does the White City truly lack even proper food?” she laughed. “Come, all of you. It is time to feed you, you poor souls.”
Cavareth knights and servants that came back with us from White City got a warm welcome from their families. Lesser nobles and counselors embraced Aidenar with sincere joy.
Durminas, cold and vast outside, brimmed with life within.
Another figure approached. A young nobleman, as tall as Aidenar and strangely, much like him. Gray tunic, blond hair longer than Aidenar’s, brushing his shoulders, the same clear Cavareth blue eyes and the same roguish smile.
“I did not expect you so soon,” he said, folding his arms.
“Nor did I,” Aidenar replied, tone dry.
“Mina is right,” the stranger murmured. “There is little entertainment here for you.”
“I did not come here for pleasures.” A spark of irritation flared in Aidenar’s voice.
“Then perhaps you will finally get to work. How long must I keep an eye on everything here?” He tipped his head toward the castle.
“Next time you may stay with my mother,” Aidenar cut back.
“Oh no, I thank you, I would rather carry palladium from the mines with my bare hands.” He gave a short laugh, Aidenar answered with a reluctant grin. “Good to see you again, brother.”
“You as well.” They both laughed and got each other in a strong, honest embrace.
Brother? I froze. Aidenar had never spoken of him.
“Will you not present me?” The blond man turned his gaze on me, curiosity alight in those blue eyes. “You are not Velena Salvadore.” Pain stabbed my chest, my face stiffened. But there was no scorn in his voice, only a mild, pleasant surprise.
“Nerissa,” Aidenar said, “my brother, Tristan Cavareth. Tristan, Lady Nerissa Veymaris.”
“Cousin, strictly speaking,” Tristan added, “but we were raised as brothers.” He swept the most graceful bow I had ever seen and waited, ready to take my hand and kiss it. I returned only a slight curtsey.
He understood, still his gaze did not waver. His features were softer than Aidenar’s, almost boyish. I knew the type: gentle faces, ruthless hearts.
“I will see Nerissa to her chambers,” Aidenar said curtly. “We shall speak later, there is much to settle.”
“I will wait,” Tristan answered, stepping aside.
The corridors of Durminas were vast, the palace of White City seemed small beside them. Narrow bridges spanned chasms, I kept my eyes fixed ahead.
“Tristan is Cavareth,” I said, to break the silence. “Why was he not at the Gathering?”
“He rode with me to White City five years ago. But just before the Gathering, troubles began. Eric Salvadore was trying to steal our palladium contracts. The mines started having problems. Dorthal wanted to seize our border lands, thinking I wouldn’t find out.
Someone had to come here. I would have come myself, but the Election was too important.
Tristan is the one person I trust. He would gladly have gone to the Gathering in my place if he could. He loves such crowds.”
I had no idea how much unfolded beyond the palace walls. How many problems Aidenar was dealing with. He never told me.
“I thought you had many friends in White City,” I said.
Aidenar gave a soft, disbelieving snort.
“Nerissa, you know what ‘friendships’ are in the capital. Everyone was waiting to stab me in the back. Eric Salvadore, on the one hand arranging my marriage with his daughter, on the other stealing our contracts to weaken our position. Tristan is family. I trust him with everything, more than anyone.” He paused. “Well, except for one thing.”
“And what is that?” I asked.
“Women.” He said it and gave me a meaningful look.
I didn’t want to know more.
We walked on. Passing servants smiled and bowed at us. Many told Aidenar how they had missed him, how glad they were to see him safe and whole. He gave each of them a moment if they wished to speak.
At last we reached my chamber. He opened the door and stepped inside with me.
The room took my breath away. Soaring ceilings, windows from floor to vault, carved reliefs upon the walls, a wide balcony opening onto the valley… and onto the abyss below. I did not go near the balustrade. My fear of heights clenched my stomach.
Aidenar gave me a moment.
“If you need anything, the servants are at your command.”
I stood staring at the bed.
Sleep would come soon, and I knew what came with it. Nightmares.
I stood, terrified by the vision of night. I looked at him pleadingly. My chambers, without him.
He understood.
“My chambers are next to yours. I will come the moment you call.” His voice softened. “But don’t worry, we came here to free you from this. Rest. I’ll see you later.”
He left. I was alone.
After my bath I was summoned to the lord’s chambers. One needed strong legs to live in Durminas, the endless stairs were torment. My calves burned with every step.
Guards ushered me into Minerva’s spacious chambers. She stood speaking with Aidenar. The room dwarfed even mine. Walls of dark stone, silver-stained glass, the scent of pine and sharp herbs.
Minerva lifted her gaze to me.
“Lady Veymaris,” she said calmly. “Aidenar has told me everything. I believe it is best to begin at once. We have no time to waste.”
I stared, stunned.
“Lady Cavareth,” I answered with a shallow curtsey. “Begin what?”
“Your control,” she replied. “Each night puts you, and all of us, in danger. If you feel them, they feel you. Soon they will break you utterly. I have no wish to share a roof with a powerful water element commanded by servants of darkness.”
“Come,” she motioned to me. “Aidenar, you are no longer needed.”
She pushed him out and barred the door before he could protest. We were alone. The air turned icy. I stood rigid, unsure what to expect. Would she reach inside my mind? Could she?
Minerva regarded me in silence, then spoke.
“Remarkable. You are your mother’s image.”
“You knew my mother?” Surprise loosened my tongue.
“Oh yes.” A faint smile. “She was beautiful, but too fragile for this world. And I remember your father: tall as an oak and a born troublemaker. The White City watch had enough work with him. I remember when four guards had to carry him out of a tavern once.” She gave a soft laugh. “But he was a good man. How are they?”
“From what you say, little has changed,” I answered, a small smile rising despite myself.
Her eyes stopped suddenly upon my throat. Upon the glimmering diamond necklace Aidenar had given me.
“Is that my grandson’s Elementar?” she asked bluntly.
“Yes.” I met her gaze, braced for cutting words and cold judgment, as I had grown used to from Cassandra.
None came.
“Well, well.” Minerva sighed. “The apple falls not far from the tree.” She shook her head. “This world will never cease to astonish me.”
I had no idea what she meant.
She rose from her chair and came closer. Her eyes turned grave.
“Enough delay. I must arm you. Here in Durminas you are safer. Ancient magic lives in these stones, stronger than any I have ever known. This is no mere fortress of rock and palladium. Durminas lives.”
Before I could ask more, she seized my face in both hands.
Power lanced through me like lightning. Pain exploded. Sharp, paralyzing, a thousand needles driven into every vein. I screamed and dropped to my knees.
“Stop!” I cried, but she did not relent. I could not move. Something inside me tore open, memories were ripped away like flesh from bone.
At last she released me. I collapsed, gasping, palms pressed to the cold stone.
“Not good,” she said calmly. “Someone planted a shard of darkness inside you, and it clings tight. You must endure, child. If need be I will give you a wooden spoon to bite on. But I will need something stronger.”
She crossed to a desk, slipped on rings heavy with diamonds, and took my head again. Another scream tore from my throat.
The door burst open, Aidenar stormed in.
“Mina! What are you doing?” he roared.
“Out!” she snarled. “If she is to live, you must trust me!”
Minerva looked suddenly terrifying, her hair lifting as though stirred by unseen wind, eyes blazing with raw power, the same dreadful majesty I had seen in Cassandra when she wielded the Elementars.
“Mina, you will kill her!” Aidenar shouted.
He tried to speak again, but she flung him backward with a surge of diamond force and slammed the door. Then she returned to me.
Pain ceased to be mere pain. It became everything. I saw his face, heard his voice, his laughter, felt his touch, a thousand times sharper than memory. And then… nothing.
Minerva let go. I fell. My breath came shallow, as though I had only just learned how lungs work.
“Those dreams are a sickness,” she said quietly. “They infect you. The longer you dreamed, the stronger they grew. I have taken some memories, not all. I weakened their hold. You will find it easier now. That is the most I can do. The rest you must finish yourself.”
I could not answer.
Minerva drew a long breath and opened the door. “Enough for today. There is nothing more I can pull from you now.”
Aidenar rushed in, dropped to his knees beside me.
“What have you done to her?” he shouted.
Minerva merely shrugged.
“What you asked me to do. I didn’t say it would be gentle. We cannot begin with control alone, first the poison must be drawn. We accomplished a lot today.” She smiled as if she had merely finished knitting. “Well. I did. Now, tea.”
She walked out.
“Nerissa, can you hear me?” Aidenar’s voice trembled. “Nerissa?”
His fingers brushed my cheek. I could not move. He gathered me from the floor, cradled me against his chest, and carried me through the halls. I felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear.
He laid me on the bed in my chamber.
After that, I remembered nothing.