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“And her son.” I gulped down the rest of my drink, refilling it instantly, trying to block Lucas’s bloody face.

“If that is the case.” The wood chair squeaked as he shifted. “Then Romania will get harsher, more volatile. Deadly.” His chin flicked to the hallway. “And she will only get sicker and weaker from fighting the goblin metal. You know she has no chance of making it across this land. She will die here.”

My reaction to his sentiment was instant. I blamed it on the alcohol affecting my emotions, but a panicked ferocity barreled through me, stealing the oxygen from my lungs for a moment. It was violent. Brutal.

No. No. No...nothing can happen to her. I will destroy everything if she dies.

Shaking my head, I tried to clear my irrational thoughts.

“Calm down,” he uttered, and I jerked my head up to hear the trees outside cracking and scraping the roof. My fingers clawed into the chair, my teeth grinding together.

He spoke only the truth, and I was the one to bring her into this mess.

“We can’t turn back now,” I muttered low, inhaling and exhaling. Uncurling my fingers, I sat back in the chair.

Vasile nodded as if he understood that was not an option for me.

“Then you got to get the metal off her.”

“Finding a goblin or someone who has the magic tools to cut through it is not an easy feat. Practically impossible.”

Vasile took a drink, his brows pinching.

“You don’t happen to know anyone, do you?” I scoffed, thinking the chances were nil.

Vasile’s lips thinned, his gaze distant.

“Do you?” I sat up further in my chair, tracking his expression.

“Know?” He shifted uncomfortably again. “You could say at one time I did.” His dark eyes darted to the hallway his wife had gone down, the house small enough you could hear her helping Scarlet prepare a bath. “Way, way before I met Anca, when this world was a different place, when I was adifferentman, the simple life did not suit me.” He paused, getting lost in his thoughts for a moment. I tried to stay calm, to let him tell his story, my need to know if he could help Scarlet crawling up my body.

“I was deeply involved in black-market mining. Things like gold.” He cleared his throat. “Metals.”

My chin lifted, my complete attention on him.

“I became unbelievably wealthy, no one understanding how I had so much luck, how easy I seemed to find the treasures others mined decades for.” Sadness watered his eyes. “The secret was, I didn’t find it on my own. I had help… a miningVâlve.”

“Vâlve?” I coughed out, setting down my mug in surprise. Vâlves were known in Romania as female spirits. Protecting, helping, guiding. But if someone got too greedy, stole, or used their treasures foolishly, the spirit would cruelly and relentlessly seek atonement for those crimes. I had heard of them, but they were rare, so rare some fae thought they were a myth.

“My own Vâlve of the mines,” he whispered. “She was in love with me. And there might have been a part of me that loved her too.” He blinked several times. “But my greed overtook any feeling I might have had for her.” Grief flickered over his face. “Talyssa took everything from me, made me suffer for a century with nothing. And had me fall in love with a human so I could suffer watching her slowly die. She wanted to make me feel the pain I made her feel.” He glanced around. “But I can’t resent her for it. I enjoy the simple life now, found peace and tranquility in it. Found my heart, even if it’s temporary.” His eyes glistened, staring in the direction his wife’s voice could be heard. He took a few moments before he cleared his throat.

“The point of this story.” His contemplation fell on me. “Vâlvesof the minehave no reaction to metals—whether to iron or goblin.”

“Wait.” I straightened. “You mean… they can touch it.”

“They’re spirits, so the metal has no real effect on them.” He shrugged. “And Vâlves have the power to take it away from you. Make all the gold and metals you have disappear.”

Take it away. Disappear. Like off Scarlet’s arm.

“Where?” I leaned into him. “Where is this Vâlve?”

“Talyssa.” He said her name as if it would conjure her. “She was in the caves of Valea Cetatii.” He leaned on his forearms, a guilt still hanging over him. “Between Bran and Bra?ov.”

That was on our way to Bucharest.

“The caves are closed now. Been cleaned out for decades. I don’t know if she is still there.”

“It’s worth a shot.” We had no other options. “Thank you.” I realized he didn’t have to tell me any of this.