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Amyrah Cantar may have been able to help me begin to deal with my grief for my brother, but she has no idea how her earnest delight in the solas has stricken me.
That is something I never want her to find out.
19. Amyrah
AMYRAH
MY BROWS PINCH TOGETHER as I watch Belwyn shrink back. His broad shoulders draw up, and a sheen of sweat dampens the waves of hair at his scalp. The muscles of his jaw tense. He acts as if he is trapped, called out. Discovered.
I wish I knew what to make of him.
When I met him in the market, I assumed him to be the type of person I’ve actively avoided all my life. The kind that haunts the heart of every social event, surrounded by friends. The guy every girl wants to get close to, who has no idea how hard it is for most people to feel accepted, wanted. Loved.
He would never notice someone like me.
We keep being thrown together, and I can’t understand why. Each time, he has surprised me with genuine concern for my welfare. And each time, I have been made keenly aware of my prejudice.
The ghost of his skin lingers on my fingertips.
I swallow down an odd shiver.
Although I hardly know him, he has changed. It isn’t surprising. The kaligorven have put the Vale through countless atrocities these last three weeks. Still, the confident young man who helped me—twice—and took care of his inebriated cohort has changed, become someone different and broken. It breaks my heart.
I came to my mother’s grave to search for a measure of understanding, but Belwyn’s presence rattles me. The look in his eyes when he saw how the ténesomni can’t touch me ...
He is dangerous,my head warns.You know who his father is.
But my heart disagrees. Something is different about the way he sees me, something that makes it hard for me to stand. He may share his father’s stature and some of his features, but he has a purity about him that all Dravek’s cruelty has not yet managed to break.
“What are you afraid of?” It’s supposed to be a simple question, but it issues out of my mouth like the steam of water hitting hot coals.
His head snaps to face me. A shadow gropes along his jaw, one wayward strand of ténesomni strong enough to push into my territory of light. I stand, and the darkness releases him.
“It’s not all black and white, Amyrah,” he says, oblivious to the way the murk hungers after him. His dark eyes plead with me to understand. “I can’t embrace the light like you do.”
I don’t know why hearing this from his mouth makes me so sad. “Why not?”
Backing away, he shakes his head in the stillness. The distance pushes between us like a physical presence.
“I just can’t.”
He turns and steps away. The night welcomes him into its unfeeling arms.
In that moment, when the ténesomni swirls back around him and he seems so resigned to its existence, I know what my purpose should be. It’s as clear as the argentilum pendant shining at my breast.
I don’t know how, but I’m going to expose the darkness.
The next day, I awaken as soon as the birds begin to sing and hurry down the trail to Utsanek. The morning bell tolls as I step into the city. All thoughts of Belwyn have been chased from my mind by the unease that plucks at the strands of my thoughts.
What has happened to my father?
When I dragged myself home last night, I was too preoccupied and exhausted to notice anything. Upon awakening this morning to a cold, empty cottage, worry doused last night’s burning revelations.
Disquiet coils around my chest, but Utsanek breathes easier. Something must have happened to appease the darkness—but what? I shake off the frustration of not knowing and climb onto a wobbly landing in the city’s oldest district. My knuckles rap on Orlagh’s front door.
After a lengthy wait, it cracks open. Her face appears through the gap. I wait for her to invite me in, but she doesn’t. Fear taints her eyes as they strain to see around me.
“Have you seen my Pada?”
