Page 18 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Aether's hand closed around my arm the moment we cleared the arena floor, pulling me into the dim corridor. My heart was still hammering from Valkan's entrance, from the weight of what had just happened. Before I could protest, he was yanking me through the twisting passages, his stride so quick my feet could barely keep up. We rounded a corner and there, in a shadowed alcove, Rethlyn, Vexa, and Effie were already waiting, their faces tight with tension.

"The Skaldvindrs," Effie spat, pacing the narrow space. "It had to be them. My parents said they were wavering, but I never thought?—"

"They wouldn't dare," Vexa cut in, but uncertainty tinged her voice. "Not without assurances from the other houses."

"They would if they were desperate enough." Aether's voice was deadly calm, but his grip hadn't loosened from my arm. "The drought hit their lands hardest last month."

I looked between them, trying to piece together the implications. "How could one family's vote change everything?"

"Because the Skaldvindrs don't act alone," Effie said, “they have allies. Old alliances." She shot a meaningful look at Vexa. "And now Valkan has exactly what he wanted—a chance to prove himself to the realm."

"We have to speak with Lord Skaldvindr," Effie said, already moving toward the corridor that led to the upper levels. "Before he leaves."

"And say what exactly?" Vexa's voice was sharp with frustration. "His lands are dying. His people are starving. Valkan's offering him salvation."

"Why don't you just kill him?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "Valkan. End this before it begins."

The silence that followed was deafening. Even Effie stopped pacing.

Aether's fingers finally loosened from my arm as he turned to face me. "You think we haven't considered it?" His voice was low, dangerous. "With Valkan's influence?—"

"The entire realm would collapse," Vexa finished. "Half would blame the crown, the other half would blame each other. We'd have civil war within days."

"And Draxon's army would descend on Ravenfell before his body was cold," Effie added, a shudder running through her. "His followers... they're fanatics. They'd tear the realm apart."

"The Skaldvindrs might listen to reason," Aether said, though his tone suggested he didn't believe it. "If they saw proof of another way?—"

"Proof?" Effie's eyes lit up suddenly. "We have proof. We have a Duskbound." She turned to me, something calculating in her gaze. "If Lord Skaldvindr saw what she could do?—"

"It's too risky," Aether cut in, but Vexa was already nodding.

"No, she's right. The Skaldvindrs abandoned Valkan's cause once before when they thought the Queen's power could save us. If they knew we had another Duskbound..."

"Their box is in the upper tier," Effie said, already moving. "If we hurry?— "

"This is a mistake," Aether growled, but he followed, keeping close to my side as we climbed the narrow stairs toward the noble houses' private viewing areas.

My chest tightened with each step down the hall, my vision blurring in the corners. They were talking about me like I was some kind of solution— the solution. But what if I failed? What if I couldn't be what they needed? What if both realms fell because of me?

The upper-level corridors were wider and lined with doors marked by family crests. Voices drifted through the walls, their tones urgent. I had never seen Effie look so concerned or walk so fast.

"Here," she whispered, stopping before a door marked with a crest of thorned vines wrapped around a crescent moon. "Lord Skaldvindr always leaves early to avoid?—"

The door swung open. A tall man emerged—the one I had seen at the conference. The one wearing a black dress suit with silver embroidery—the same look he had on tonight. He paused at the sight of us, his eyes narrowing first at Effie, then settling on me with sudden, sharp interest.

"Lady Eirfalk," he said smoothly. "What an... unexpected pleasure."

"Lord Skaldvindr." Effie looked up at the man. "We need to speak with you."

"I'm afraid I have other obligations?—"

"About your vote," Vexa cut in. His expression hardened instantly.

"I don't believe my family's political decisions are any concern of the Umbra." His gaze swept over our group with calculated dismissal. "Or of foreign prisoners."

Aether stepped forward, his body now rigid, taking up the entirety of the door as Skaldvindr stumbled a few paces back. " She's a Duskbound," he growled in such a low register, I almost couldn't hear his words.

A flash of emotion crossed the noble's face—too quick to read. "Is she?" His voice dripped with skepticism. "How convenient. Just when Valkan forces our hand, you produce another solution ."

"You've seen what his Damphyre do," Effie pressed. "What they are. Is that really the salvation you want for your people?"

Lord Skaldvindr's jaw tightened. For a moment, conflict flickered across his eyes. "What I want," he said carefully, "is to keep my people alive. Valkan's lands still produce crops. His people still have essence. While the rest of us..." He gestured sharply at the air around us, at the perpetual twilight beyond the windows. "We're dying. All of us. Would you have me ignore a solution simply because you find it distasteful?"

"We're offering you an alternative," Vexa said.

"You're offering me nothing but words. And as you might recall, I don’t put much trust in the sanctity of traditions of this realm." His voice turned sharp. "Prove it. Show me this supposed Duskbound power. Show me she's worth more than Valkan's immediate aid." He looked directly at me then, and the weight of his gaze felt like drowning. "Show me you're more than just another Umbra deception."

My throat closed. The walls seemed to press in, the shadows deepening at the corners of my vision. Everything they'd said about Valkan, about the realm's desperation, about what would happen if he gained more power—it all crashed over me at once. And now this man was staring at me, waiting for me to prove I was worth choosing over the monster who could save his people.

"I—" The word caught in my throat. My chest felt too tight. My breath came in short gasps. The room started to spin.

"Fia?" Vexa's voice sounded distant.

"I need—" I stumbled back a step. "I can't?— "

Skaldvindr gave Aether one last skeptical look before slamming the door closed.

"Aether!" Urkin's voice boomed from down the corridor, making me flinch.

"I need air," I choked out. "I have to go?—"

"Take her," Aether ordered, his eyes meeting Rethlyn's. Something passed between them—some unspoken understanding. "We'll handle this."

Rethlyn's hand replaced Aether's on my arm, gentler but just as urgent as he guided me away from the nobles' boxes. The corridors blurred past, my vision swimming at the edges. I couldn't get enough air. Couldn't think past the roaring in my ears.

We burst through a side entrance, the gray twilight a shock after the dim corridors. My legs gave out and I slumped against the stone wall, sliding down until I hit the ground.

"Let me–" Rethlyn started, taking a step toward me.

"Don't," I gasped, throwing up a hand. "Don't use your tether. Don't try to calm me." My voice cracked.

But the panic wouldn't release its grip. My chest constricted until each breath was a battle, spots dancing across my vision. And then—something shifted . A sensation ripped through me, like my insides were being hollowed out.

"Fia?" Rethlyn's voice wavered.

Horror froze me as I felt it start. Shadows began pouring from his void burns, but not like Vexa’s from before. This was violent. Hungry. They twisted through the air toward me like they were being yanked by invisible hooks.

"What's happening?" My voice came out strangled as the darkness flooded into me. I tried to move, to break whatever connection had formed, but my body wouldn't respond. "Make it stop—I can't?—"

"Fia!" Rethlyn's cry sent terror shooting through me. He tried to scramble away but remained locked in place, shadows ripping from him faster now. I could feel his fear mixing with mine, could feel him weakening with each second.

Stop stop stop stop— My mind screamed but my body only pulled harder. The darkness was everywhere, flooding my lungs, drowning me. I couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't tell where I ended and the shadows began.

My throat tore open in a scream just as golden light exploded through the darkness. Strong hands gripped my shoulders, and Rethlyn's voice cut through my terror:

" Enough. "

And then, in an instant, my heart stilled, and a haze began fluttering across my mind, seeping into the darkness. But the feeling fled just as quickly as it had arrived, and terror overtook me again, but I was in control. The shadows snapped back to Rethlyn with such force that we both cried out. I collapsed forward, retching, my whole body shaking. He’d used his tether, and I couldn’t exactly blame him.

"Rethlyn?" My voice shook as I watched him struggle to sit up. "Why do you look—are you in pain?"

He managed to lift his head, and the exhaustion in his eyes made my stomach turn. "Sharing shadows is one thing," he said, sighing, "but you just ripped them from me. Tore them out like they were being shredded from my bones."

Fresh horror washed through me. I'd felt his pain, I realized. Those fragments of sensation that had mixed with the shadows—that had been him. I scrambled backward until my spine hit stone, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.

"I didn't know I could—" My voice broke. "I didn't mean to?—"

"I know." He winced as he shifted. "Sometimes one reaches for them in desperation."

“I’m sorry.” I murmured .

He took a step towards me but stopped, concern etched into his features. After a moment, he simply sat down beside me, close enough to reach but not touching. We sat in silence as I focused on my breathing, on the feeling of cold stone against my palms, on the distant sound of Vordr wings beating against the wind.

"You know," Rethlyn said finally, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it, "I saw you. Back in Sídhe."

I turned my head slightly, confused by the sudden shift.

"The way you handled those shadows—absorbing them, wielding them on such a large scale without any training?" He shook his head, something like awe in his expression. "Even a practiced wielder would struggle with that kind of raw power. But you? You just... adapted. Like they were always meant to be yours."

"I almost lost myself," I whispered, remembering the darkness that had threatened to consume me.

"But you didn't." He picked up a small stone, turning it over in his hands. "That's the thing about power—it's not about controlling it perfectly. It's about choosing to keep fighting even when it feels impossible."

I drew my knees to my chest, suddenly feeling very young. "Everything's different now. My life, for so long—I was just... hiding. From everyone. From myself." My voice caught. "I never wanted any of this. The expectations, the pressure. Being told I'm the key to ending a war I didn't even know existed. No one ever expected anything of me."

Rethlyn was quiet for a moment. "I have a sister," he said finally. "She's everything my parents ever wanted. Master medic, perfect tether, perfect life." A wry smile touched his lips. "Meanwhile, I couldn't figure out what my tether was even for. The black sheep who could make people feel things they didn't want to feel."

"What changed?"

"I stopped trying to be what they wanted. Found people who saw me—really saw me." He glanced at the entrance where we'd come from. "The Umbra gave me purpose, but more than that, they gave me a home. Somewhere the numbness couldn't reach."

I knew what that was like. I had always had Osta, and then Ma came around. And I loved them both dearly. But the first person who ever truly saw me, truly saw that I could be something more—was Laryk. He believed I could be something extraordinary.

Rethlyn turned to look at me fully then. "It's not about proving them wrong, you know. It's about proving to yourself that you're worthy. That you always were."

The words hit something deep inside me. I thought about the tower, about the girl who had spent weeks staring out that window, numb to everything. But before that—before the Umbra—there had been years of hiding in Sídhe. Years of pushing my power down, making it smaller, more normal. Years of pretending to be something I wasn't, because the alternative was too frightening to face.

And then the shadows had found me. In that moment in Emeraal, when darkness had surged through my veins, it should have felt wrong. Foreign. Instead, it felt like waking up. Like some part of me that had been sleeping finally opened its eyes.

"I'm scared," I admitted.

"Good," Rethlyn said. "It means you understand what's at stake." He stood, brushing off his leathers before offering me a hand.

I took it, letting him pull me to my feet. My breathing had steadied, though my chest still felt tight. But something had shifted—some small kernel of certainty taking root beneath everything else.

As if he had anticipated my distress, Tryggar's wings emerged from around the mountain, beating against the wind furiously. Seconds later, he was landing on the platform and trotting over to me.

"Think you can handle him on your own?" Rethlyn asked.

"Am I allowed to?" I shot a hesitant look over my shoulder as Tryggar nudged me.

"I think we're past all of this prisoner business," he said, eyes lingering on me a beat longer before he slipped back inside.