Page 54 of Keeper of the Word (The Unsung and the Wolf Duology #2)
Chapter
Forty-Nine
ELANNA
B y the time they’d revived Tara and returned, exhausted, to Castle Sidra’s main gate, dawn had shifted the shadows of Asalle’s city blocks into dewy morning light. The morning star had faded.
They were at the main gate before anyone noticed it.
The head of the ravenmaster on a pike.
Joss made to block Elanna’s view, but ’twas too late. She sucked in her breath as if some force had knocked the wind from her.
“Stars be good,” Goodsell said.
Everyone stood in shocked silence.
Finally, Hux took Elanna by the elbow. “Come. There’s naught that can be done, and there’s naught that can be helped by staring.”
They entered through the castle gate, some guards eyeing them warily, some appearing as though the insides of their stomachs might come up.
Tara made her way straight to the Delara and clicked the door closed behind them when the two had entered.
“Tara, I am sorry,” Elanna blurted. “Before we go on, I need to tell you that. ”
“As am I,” Tara returned. “Truly. You are my sister. No more secrets between us. No more disbelief. I was wrong.” Tara still held her hand to her chest, clutched in her other arm. Her skin appeared ashen.
“Are you well?” Elanna asked.
Tara waved the question away. “Something terrible has happened this night. First, we hear of a hanging, and now a beheading? The sovereign is slipping into something dark.”
That was putting it mildly. Elanna hated that she could still visualize the horrific face of the ravenmaster. Nausea roiled in her stomach.
“Poor man. I ne’er meant—oh Tara! I said awful words to him. Words I ought not to have said.”
Stars. Guilt took a swing at her again. An uncomfortable thought poked at her. If she hadn’t been here, would he still live? Would the witch still be alive?
StarSeers aren’t meant to act.
“And how will we send a message to Sir Tolvar?” Elanna asked, holding her head in her hands. Her head spun. “We need him here, now.”
Tara paced the Delara. “And ’tis much too far to send someone on horseback. Or do you think we should still attempt it?”
Elanna shrugged and sat on one of the outer benches. She was having trouble focusing. “And what do we do about the starstone? I’ve no idea where to even begin.”
Tara stilled and paled. “We cannot feel the others. The cord of light is hidden from me.”
Elanna gave a feeble attempt to sense the connection between her and Kyrie, Casta, and Maristel, but she, too, discerned nothing.
Wait. Was there not something I was supposed to remember? She dug through her mind. But ’twas all she could do to concentrate on the tasks at hand.
She felt so hollow.
At least the others were safe in Ashwin.
“I do not know if I can bear this for a week. ”
A week.
“Or more. My utmost concern is how cut off we are from the stars, too.” Tara knelt.
Elanna felt more than cut off. Her mind felt thick. Her stomach queasy.
“We can still pray.”
Elanna nodded and joined Tara, though she was not the least bit comforted in their prayer. A dread as tangible as the sealed Edan Stone in her pocket weighed on her.
Five days. Five days without the stars. They were ill.
Elanna’s skin was clammy and chilled. When she studied a looking glass, she noticed her hair resembled wheat, not golden flax.
She had no appetite. Her body ached in a manner that no position, lying down or sitting, could alleviate.
And tired. She was so tired. Even if she’d wanted to test that her powers did not work, trekking down to the queen’s garden from her rooms seemed scores of leagues away.
But the worst part—the absolutely, most painful and excruciating part—of the last five days was that she could not feel her sisters.
The hollowness where she should feel her cord of light was like losing a limb.
Except it wasn’t physical. It dragged down her entire welfare, slanting every thought and feeling, making her outlook grey and muddled.
And nightmares. She’d not slept one night without waking in a cold sweat, scars of horrific scenes imprinted on her somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.
One night, her scream had caused Joss to sprint into the room and shake Elanna awake, the claws of unconsciousness not releasing her even after her eyes opened.
“Hux,” she’d said. But, of course, he was not there. She’d not seen him since reentering the castle.
Barrett informed her that the Deogolian stood guard in the corridors once a day, taking a shift, but that Joss would not leave her post, and they’d exchanged more than one clash of barbs .
The only consolation was that she and Tara were no longer at odds.
One night, Elanna had finally broken down and spilled the full events of the last weeks.
To speak of Tam’s Ford was like an immersion of torture.
Tara listened quietly and then embraced Elanna—an act most rare.
Elanna melted into the comfort. She knew not if she would e’er fully recover, but Hux had been right.
Acknowledgment had given a sense of repose.
Hux.
Elanna dragged her feet to her window in the pale purple light of dawn. At least two more days of this. Hopefully not more. She wiped her damp forehead with a kerchief. A kerchief that Hux had offered her. She knew not what to feel about him.
Betrayed. That was one emotion.
The only other time Elanna had truly felt that was when Daved had taken her to the constable. But that had been for her own good, to protect her, had it not?
Foolish. That was something else. Odd. She’d never felt foolish in her nineteen years in Ashwin. Even while she was learning. But since meeting Tolvar and his band, she’d felt foolish many times.
But admitting her feelings for Hux was the most foolish notion of all.
Anger. A newer sensation. Pity, melancholy, and appalled were not new.
Seeing into the future brought out those emotions easily.
Visions of people acting perfectly idiotic, selfish, or ill-advised could naturally evoke those emotions.
But anger, in the degree she was harboring it, was different.
And ’twas not solely placed on Hux. The sovereign made her angry—she tried blocking the grievous sight of the ravenmaster’s head from her mind—the mess created with his son, his obstinance at not taking her heed.
The ordeal that she’d suffered in Tam’s Ford made her angry.
Angry. Tolvar abandoning her here made her angry.
She had to admit, even Dashiell fleeing made her angry.
A commotion in the courtyard below seized her attention. ’Twas too early for such a ruckus. A dozen horses appeared and pranced and pawed, as if having been galloped for a stretch. Her nose touched the pane as she leaned to ascertain what occurred .
There, astride one of the horses, his brown hair distinguishable yet disheveled, was Dashiell.
Elanna sucked in her breath. The prince. Surrounded by guards like a criminal.
She glanced at the chest of drawers where the Edan Stone was hidden.
Stars or no stars, power or no power, Elanna would not stand by. With more effort and time than it should take, Elanna dressed and exited her rooms.
The only person in the corridor was Hux. He awoke upon hearing her door open.
“Lady,” he said, standing from the chair he’d been napping in. “I told Joss to get some sleep. She needs rest, too, or she’s no good to you. I know you do not trust me, but I assure you, I fell asleep only moments ago.”
Elanna put up a stiff arm, and Hux stopped. “Peace.”
“What is it?”
“The prince needs me.”
“He has returned?”
She nodded. Her eyes went in the direction of Tara’s apartments. She could arouse her, but Tara was worse off than Elanna. Her hand was still maimed. She’d hardly been able to leave her bed.
It would be only Elanna, then.
She inhaled, willing strength into her legs. She headed down the corridor, but Hux grabbed her arm. When she turned, he immediately let go.
“Not that way. Come this way.”
She paused. A true villain. But he was Hux.
“I know. I know. I should have divulged to you my terrible past. I would like to make explanations. Tell you everything. But I will not make excuses. You need not trust me. I can go fetch Barrett.”
But the prince needed them now .
“Let us not speak of that at present. There are greater matters at hand.”
Hux nodded and led the way.