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I force myself to complete my tasks at the homestead instead of letting my anxieties overtake me. It takes all my resolve.
When the call of Sola Vinari sounded, yet again, I wanted to shake it from my mind like a mule frees its skin of pests.
Don’t let it in. This battle is not for you. Keep your head down, and no harm will come to Amyrah. It is not up to you to fix all the wrong in the Vale. Don’t let it in.
I repeated the same words over again, but with each blast of the horn, they were more difficult to say.
What if there is a sola out there, and I can stop this? What if I can make right what I failed to do thirteen years ago?
With great difficulty, I ignored its timbre until silence claimed the valley once more.
But the ominous feeling increases. Can I trust that Amyrah did not run off into the woods as her mother did? Can I trust Myrzeth to leave her alone?
The answer to both questions isno.
Dread takes complete possession of my body, urging me on with an insistence that almost hurts.
Rushing through Utsanek’s streets, I meet a tall figure in the alley leading into Ellithïm.
“Bryn, have you seen my daughter?”
He pulls me out of the shadows and into the wider street, where I can identify the concern that paints his features.
“No. In fact, I’m on my way to make a search of my own—for Wehna, Arvo’s sister. She left him with my daughters a while ago, and we have not heard from her in a very long time.” He pauses to think. “She went with Amyrah earlier today to retrieve her books from her apartment. I wonder if they’ve met up again.”
I sigh and run my hands roughly through my hair. “Things are bad in the Vale, Bryn. Can you feel it? A current below the surface, flowing through the shadows? The tension is growing. It has always been there, but we have become used to it. This younger generation, though, does not have the benefit of years behind them. I worry everything seems so new and thrilling right now. But this evil—it is ancient. Perhaps Wehna and Amyrah know more about it than most, but I am certain not even my daughter understands the full extent of my brother-in-law’s wickedness.”
Nervous energy makes me pace the ground. Bryn’s steady gaze follows my movements.
“There is none more cunning than him. He can twist his words like he twists the darkness. Even when you think you have resisted him, it is like he always anticipates your response and uses your strength against you.”
Bryn lays a hand on my arm. “Peace, friend. We will find her.”
I close my eyes and exhale, nodding slowly.
We have not yet arrived at Utsanek’s central square when the drumming starts. Ahead, a living sea of people passes the narrow gap between buildings, heading to the northern gate. I growl in frustration and turn to leave. I want no part in whatever this is.
“No, wait.” Bryn’s grip arrests me. “We should go with them, Téron.” He turns. “The sound makes my stomach flip just the same as yours, but we cannot risk being uninformed of any developments in the Vale.”
I shake my head and move to slip past, but he positions himself in front of me. “We need to be wise as serpents, for the sake of our families.”
My chest deflates. Perhaps he is right. Now is not the time for ignorance.
Bryn’s gaze drifts past my shoulders and down a branching side street. He stares in confusion for a moment, and his eyes widen.
“Wehna.”
He throws me to the side, but I do not blame him when I see a heap of fabrics thrown to the gutter. Except it isn’t just a heap. It’s a person.
Bryn kneels beside the still form. A girl. An ugly gash snakes across her brow, trailing sticky blood across her face. Even in this awful state, I see the resemblance to Arvo.
I crouch down and feel for a pulse. It is weak, but steady.
“Let me go for help,” I say, rising to my feet.
“No, Téron. I can manage on my own.” He grabs a cloth from his pocket and tries to wipe the blood from her features, but it has already started to dry and will not come away.
“Please. Let me find someone.”
