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Myrzeth’s voice draws me back to the present. What should fill me with rage is a welcome interruption to my brutal recollections. I crack open my eyes and wince. The light from the lantern in his hands is painfully bright.
“I want nothing to do with you,” I slur, once again attempting a sitting position. I inhale sharply as vertigo threatens to throw me down. When my spine is safely propped up against the stones of the cell, I let out my breath and raise my eyes to the ghost-man.
A charming chuckle escapes him, a stark contrast to everything about the current circumstances. “I thought you might say that.” Myrzeth crouches and balances on the balls of his feet. “But as my brother-in-law, it seemed only right to give you a second chance.”
A jagged burst of wind that is supposed to be a laugh lurches from my lungs. “Why would I want that? You cost me the one thing I cared about.”
Myrzeth tilts his head a little, and I shiver at how the shadows play with him—as if fond of him. “Really? Is that what you’ve told yourself all these years?”
I grit my teeth in a maniacal snarl. Spittle flies as the retort propels itself out of me. “Because of you, I trusted the Shrouded would not hurt her. Because you stopped me, I let her run into the forest. If it had not been for you, I may have been able to get to her before ... before ...” The words shrivel up in my throat, and my vehemence loses its power.
Lowering the lantern until it clangs resonantly on the ground, Myrzeth rests his palms on the floor and makes a patronizing click with his tongue and teeth. “Oh, Téron. I think you’re wrong.”
That makes me straighten. “What?”
His eyes narrow slightly, peering at me from between strands of colorless hair.
“Ellehra was not the only thing you cared for.”
“What are you talking about?”
He stands, leaving the lantern on the ground as he brushes the grit off his hands. “I’m disappointed in you.” He paces a few steps, then becomes still. “As your daughter would be, I think.”
Shame washes over me. My head sags so my chin hits my chest. How could I forget Amyrah?
“Would you really endanger her, I wonder? You know the truth of the Shrouded now. They are jealous and eager to remove any who may pose a threat against them.”
“She is no concern of yours,” I growl.
“Oh, on the contrary. If she is at all like my deceased sister, she is of great concern.”
Panic fills me. What does Myrzeth know of Amyrah, of her gift? I raise my eyes and follow his movements around the room.
“Amyrah could not be more unlike Ellehra,” I lie, relieved when my voice does not warble.
Myrzeth spins on his heel and stares me down.
“I hope you are telling the truth.”
“She respects the kaligorven’s strength. After Ellehra’s death, I made sure to raise her with that knowledge.” The words burn.
It is silent for a while as Myrzeth inspects my features. His jaw shifts, and his brow knits, then smooths.
“Well.” He stoops to pick up the lantern. “The one factor between her and safety,” he says as he hands the light to me, strides to the door, and unlatches it, “is you.”
He melts into the shadows, leaving the cell wide open behind him.
23. Amyrah
AMYRAH
I PAGE THROUGH AN OLD BOOK, its musty scent rising to greet me. The thing has sat on the mantel in my house for three days, and it has taken me this long to find the courage to crack it open. Tress put it into my hands the morning I discovered her secret community, making me promise to bring it back someday soon—and find her for a visit when I do. I didn’t want to accept it, but she insisted.
At first, I could only look at it with apprehension. What would I find in there about my gift—and what if it has the power to change everything?
Now, it is a timely diversion from the fears that have grown within my heart since my father went missing.
I have heard nothing of him, and none of my inquiries have proved fruitful. Orlagh has resumed her market baking, and she assured me that if his absence had anything to do with Dravek or his men, they would be boasting of it. The gossip would have made it to her ears by now.
