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Dravek and his men laugh.

“What makes you think that will be acceptable to them?”

Myrzeth swings his satchel forward and unearths a tattered book from within. “Oh, I don’t think there will be any ‘guesswork’ about it.”

The volume falls open in his hands. A sinister presence seems to emanate from its pages.

“If you recall, when my sister spoke out against the kaligorven and managed to convince a few idiots to abandon the Hunt, my voice was one of reason. I warned of the consequences, but none would listen. And when her actions led to her inevitable demise, it no longer seemed prudent to waste my efforts where they would not be appreciated.”

The valefolk are spellbound by his smooth words, but I am in turmoil, threatening to burst.

Dravek’s silence is an invitation for Myrzeth to continue.

“Since my departure, I have made the kaligorven my study. I have wandered far and learned much about these ancient beings. To you, it may seem like they have always been here. But their arrival in the Vale is relatively recent.”

“If what you say is true, maybe we should consider freeing ourselves from their dominion.”

For once, I agree with the Foremost.

A shadow passes over Myrzeth’s face. For a moment, his eyes gleam unnaturally. “That would be a ... mistake.” His fingers tighten around the tome, crinkling its pages. “You have not been outside of the Vale. I have. And I can assure you, there is no safer place to be. We are far better off being under their protection instead of objects of their wrath. Have you not experienced it yourselves?”

The valefolk’s sorrow fills the pause like a stagnant pool.

Myrzeth’s voice softens. He sounds almost compassionate. “If you do what I say, I can guarantee you more light and peace than you have ever known.”

Whispers hiss through the people. He is making far too much sense.

I cannot stand to listen to it any longer.

“Myrzeth, you are nothing but a traitor to our people.” I shove into the open space. My limbs shudder, my heart pounds wildly. “You abandoned the Vale—and your own family—at our moment of greatest darkness. You have conveniently avoided the thirteen blackest years any of us can remember. And now, you dare to step in and claim to be the salvation we have been searching for all this time?” My voice is strangled, belonging to someone else. To a madman.

“Hello, Téron.” My brother-in-law regards me sadly, stoking my internal fire. “I see these years have not been kind to you.”

I will not be baited. I turn to Dravek. “You cannot be considering listening to this fool. What can he know about our lives that we ourselves do not understand?”

The Foremost crosses his arms. His eyes pass from me to Myrzeth, and back again. His voice drops in warning. “Téron, stand down.”

“Do not be a fool, Dravek.”

“I said, stand down.”

Several vice-like hands latch themselves to my arms. I struggle to pull away, but I have expended all my strength. I slump forward.

Dravek faces Myrzeth, his brow set. “Teach us the way.”

“No,” I wheeze.

A triumphant expression spreads across Myrzeth’s pallid face. He closes the book and stares me down.

“You can start by taking care of him.”

Fingers dig into my muscles with crushing force. I should be fighting. I should be repelling Myrzeth’s cunning wickedness with all of my being.

But as I am hauled away, all I can think is,Ellehra, I’m sorry.

18. Belwyn

BELWYN