Page 114 of Dhampira

Another mystery. In Derryton, I’d longed for adventure. For flash and finery. Now, I had enough to last a lifetime.

Pushing to my feet, I readied for sleep. But when I sank back into my chair, the stars caught my eye.

Should I wish on one, Mama? I’d asked once.

Shaking her head, my mother had closed the window, then leaned a hip on my bed. Wishes are for those who want without the willingness to do. She’d smoothed back my hair, candlelight dancing in her blue eyes. You don’t need stars to make your wishes come true, Corinthe. Just power.

You mean willpower? She couldn’t have meant power. Always, she urged me to hide the monster that lurked under my skin.

Mama pulled the covers to my chin. Yes. That, too.

23

When I entered the Everless with Lorcan and Vander the next morning, Ruvien sat on the edge of the fountain.

“It’s all right,” Vander murmured, touching my shoulder when I startled. “We expected him.”

Lorcan moved past us and stopped in front of Ruvien. The elf brushed his beringed fingers over the flat surface of the fountain’s curved wall. His knee-length jacket was a shimmering gray embroidered with intricate purple designs that matched his eyes. Dark trousers showed beneath a split in the rich-looking fabric. He kicked one booted foot, his heel lightly drumming against the crumbling stone.

“I was surprised to hear from you, Prince Lorcan.” He looked up, the Everless’s sunlight turning his hair a soft gold. “You would be further in my debt?”

Wrapped from head to toe in black with his dark hair in a tight queue at his nape, Lorcan was a marked contrast to the sparkling Ruvien.

“I don’t have a choice,” Lorcan said. “Time isn’t on my side.”

Ruvien dusted his hands. “We almost always have a choice.” His amethyst eyes shifted to me. “However, I’ll grant you the options available to you have”—he groped for a word, then snapped his long fingers—“gone to shit.”

Lorcan appeared to grind his molars. “Will you help or not?”

I held my breath. Whatever help Lorcan wanted, he wanted it badly enough to ask Ruvien. I didn’t need to know much about the elves to understand the significance of the request.

Ruvien stood, his eyes flicking over Vander. “Veradorn doesn’t interfere with the trials of Nocta.”

My heart sank. Ruvien wouldn’t help—

“However,” he said, “my mistress has granted this request as a personal favor.”

Beside me, Vander stiffened.

Lorcan’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you,” he said gruffly. “We won’t forget Veradorn’s assistance.”

Ruvien made a beckoning gesture. “Let me see the gifts.”

Vander reached inside his jacket and withdrew several glass vials. The length of his little finger, they were each stoppered with a cork and filled with blood. They clicked together as Vander tipped them into Ruvien’s waiting hand.

“Quite a collection,” Ruvien said. He held his other palm over the vials and closed his eyes. A few seconds later, he opened them. “It’s done.”

“You’re certain?” Lorcan asked.

Ruvien gave him a long-suffering look. “Do you want them or not?”

Lorcan extended his palm. “We want them.”

Ruvien handed them over, then turned and walked the path to the temple. Lorcan and Vander moved to my sides, flanking me as the three of us watched Ruvien pause in the doorway. He looked over his shoulder, his purple eyes sharp. “The gifts won’t endure for long. Only a fool would attempt to use them in combat.”

“She won’t,” Lorcan said.

Ruvien’s lips curved as he looked at me. “I didn’t think so. You’re far more intelligent than your men, aren’t you, Your Highness?” A knowing look entered his eyes. “I imagine you see quite a lot they don’t expect you to. Although I suspect listening poses a challenge.”