Page 32 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

"Two days from now," Rethlyn said, pushing his food around his plate. "Urkin wants the new recruits to cross the rip. See the Western territory of Sídhe firsthand."

I stared at my own untouched meal, my appetite gone. In two days, I was supposed to present Urkin with an alternative to war. Instead, I'd be watching the Umbra prepare their next generation to infiltrate my former home.

"It's just observation," Rethlyn continued, as if sensing my discomfort. "No engagement. They need to understand what we're facing beyond the rip, learn the patrol patterns."

"Am I not included in this run?" I asked, unable to hide the bitterness in my words.

Rethlyn's eyes glanced from Aether to me, a questioning look settling into his features. "I would assume," he finally said. "Although, I'm not sure Urkin cares either way."

"Yes. Because I've already given him exactly what he needs."

"The recruits deserve to see what they're up against. What they've committed their lives to." Rethlyn shrugged, but there was an apologetic look in his eyes .

"They've only been training for five days," I said, disbelief coloring my tone. "None of them are ready for this."

"They don't need to be ready," Aether replied, his voice carrying that familiar weight. "They just need to see."

"Besides," Effie cut in, barely glancing up from her nails, "the Guard never positions themselves that close to the rip. Flying through the Western border is nothing."

Her words hit like a physical blow, that old part of me flinching at the revelation. How many times had they entered Sídhe without anyone catching on?

"Will they be using… shadows?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. They were my shadows now—my power being used against my former allies.

"Just for concealment," Rethlyn said quickly. "Standard protocol for crossing the rip. We're not looking to engage anyone."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. Even Effie's rhythmic filing paused.

"Don't look so grim," she said finally, resuming her manicure. "It's not as if they're launching an attack. Though I suppose that will come soon enough if you don't produce this miraculous alternative you keep promising."

"Effie," Aether warned, but she just shrugged.

"What? We're all thinking it. The deadline is in two days, and so far all we have is a bunch of dusty books and?—"

Vexa's hand slammed onto the dining table, rattling plates and startling several nearby soldiers. "I have an idea."

"Some of us are trying to eat here," Rethlyn grumbled, tugging his plate away from her fingers.

"It's risky," she continued, sliding into a seat with a self-satisfied smile, "but at this point, you don't have much of a choice, do you?" Her eyes found mine across the table.

"I'm listening." I leaned forward, trying not to let my desperation show. After days of dead ends in the archives, I'd take almost anything.

"I'm honestly surprised you didn't think of it earlier, Aether." Vexa shot him a disappointed look.

"Elaborate, please, dear," Effie said, examining her nails with disinterest.

Something passed between Vexa and Aether—some shared knowledge that made the air feel heavier. I glanced between them, hating how often I felt like I was missing pieces of the puzzle.

"We've been going about this the wrong way—trying to find information in the archives about siphons. Why did we waste all that time when we could have just spoken to the source himself?"

Effie scrunched her eyebrows. "The man's been dead for over a century."

"You're the only one who still knows how to find them," Vexa said to Aether, ignoring Effie completely. "What had you told me… some cave in the Blodfhal?—"

"No." Aether's response was immediate as he leaned back, crossing his arms. The shadows around him seemed to deepen.

"The book was written by him, it carries his penmanship. It would work, I think." Vexa shrugged, but there was nothing casual about her tone.

"Vexa." Just her name, but it carried enough warning to set my nerves on end.

"What are you two talking about?" I asked, unable to keep the edge from my voice. More secrets, more half-truths.

"I'd also like to know," Rethlyn added around a mouthful of ricecake.

"When I was in prison, there were rumors about this fiend, or monster—something stereotypically horrifying, of course. Said it could speak in voices of the dead, as long as you had a personal item of the deceased." Vexa's lips curled into a smile. "Like, perhaps, a memoir. "

Effie nearly choked on her drink. "Absurd."

I rolled my eyes, disappointment settling heavy in my stomach. I'd actually let myself hope for a moment, but this was ridiculous.

"I thought so too. Until this one here broke me out, and confirmed it was real."

The silence that followed was deafening as all eyes shot to Aether. Even Effie's disinterest cracked.

"Vexa, that's not even close to an accurate account of what happened." He sighed, but something in his voice made me pause. He wasn't denying it existed.

"I was telling you all the tales I'd heard whispered across those cells?—"

"Quite loudly, and frequently, if I recall."

"So you do remember? Good." Vexa's smile turned sharp. "Anyway, I guess in an attempt to quiet me , he confirmed the existence of the Dread Sirens. Said he had encountered them nearly two decades before."

"And they were useless, which you'd remember, if you hadn't put away so much ale that evening." Aether's voice was flat, but his shoulders had tensed.

"Only because you didn't have any possessions." She held up the memoir, waving it like a prize. "But this time, we do."

Aether stayed quiet, jaw clenched as his gaze narrowed further on the wall.

"The two of you could go when the rest of us travel to the rip. Urkin would never suspect it," she whispered.

"Vexa, it's too early for these ridiculous heist aspirations. You're not in prison anymore." Effie's voice was sharper than normal. "You're simply asking for trouble."

"If we timed it right, we could leave and return at the same time. He'd never know you weren't with us." Vexa raised an eyebrow.

"It's not worth the risk." Aether wouldn't meet any of our eyes now, and that told me more than his words.

"We're running out of options," Vexa pressed.

"I said no." Aether stood abruptly, his chair scraping against stone as he strode toward the courtyard door.

I watched him leave, frustration burning through me. If there was even a chance this could work, how dare he dismiss it without discussion? Without letting me decide if the risk was worth it? Before I could think better of it, I pushed away from the table and followed. I didn't even know what Dread Sirens were, nor did I particularly want to find out, but if this was the only way forward, I was sure as Esprithe going to take it.

"So that's it?" I called after him. "You're just going to walk away? You’re the one who said we need to get creative!"

He didn't slow his pace, forcing me to jog to catch up. "I already gave my answer."

"Without even discussing it? Without even considering?—"

"There's nothing to consider." His voice was sharp as he rounded on me, shadows writhing across his void burns. "The cave is in Draxon territory. After what happened at the Void, you think Valkan wouldn't love to find you wandering right into his domain?"

"So you have thought about it." I stepped closer, refusing to be intimidated by his looming presence. "You've already mapped it all out in your head, haven't you? And you said nothing."

Something flickered across his face—too quick to read—before his expression hardened again. "It doesn't matter. It's not happening."

"Why? Because you said so?" Heat crept into my voice. "Last time I checked, you weren't in charge of me anymore. I'm not your prisoner."

"No," he said, his golden eyes burning with an intensity that made me want to step back. I held my ground. "But you are my responsibility."

"I don't need your protection."

"Clearly you do, since you're willing to walk straight into Valkan's territory on the word of a drunken bard."

"At least I'm trying to find a solution!" The words burst out louder than I intended. "While you're content to just let everything fall apart because what? Because it might be dangerous? Aether, everything about this is dangerous. The whole realm is dying, in case you hadn't noticed."

His jaw clenched, shadows deepening around him. "You think I don't know that?"

"I think you're scared." The moment I said it, I knew I'd struck something. His entire frame went rigid. "Not of Valkan, not of the Dread Sirens. You're scared of taking a risk that might actually change something."

"You have no idea what you're talking about." His voice had dropped dangerously low.

"Then explain it to me. Because right now, all I see is you shutting down our only lead without even?—"

"Because I don't care to watch you die." The words exploded from him with enough force to make me stumble back. In the silence that followed, I could hear his breathing—heavy and ragged. "Not for this. Not for some desperate, idiotic gamble."

I stared at him, caught off guard by the raw emotion in his voice. His careful control had cracked, revealing something underneath.

"Aether..." I started, but he was already turning away.

"Find another way," he said, his voice steady again, though something in it still trembled. "Any other way."

As I watched him walk off, my rage nearly boiled over. If he wasn't going to help me, I'd find a way to these Dread Sirens myself.

And with that, I turned back towards the archives. I needed a map.