Page 29 of The Cruel Dawn (Vallendor #2)

Separi sends me a sidelong glance as we head south on the gunky cobblestoned road. “Tonight, Dalbald is a lucky boy.”

The old Kai would’ve burned him to a fritter. That’s what she doesn’t say.

I cock an eyebrow. “My, my, my, what flat black eyes you have.”

She nods to a Renrian who also has flat black eyes and fingers barely long enough to hold the handle of the bucket she’s carrying. “Better to fit in than stand out nowadays,” she says.

We pass a group of humans, their own dark eyes narrowed and filled with suspicion.

Separi quickens her pace. “They’re wary,” she murmurs without looking back.

“Of us?” I ask.

“Of everything.” She rounds the corner and leads us down a narrow alley.

Before my arrival and destructive departure, the Broken Hammer Inn had boasted a white-and-gray quartz roof atop its three stories.

Fat pillars of smoke had puffed out of its seven chimneys.

Slick red double doors welcomed every visitor who wanted to relax in the jasmine- and toast-scented sitting room with its generous hearth.

The Broken Hammer Inn is still three stories tall, but four of the seven chimneys have crumbled, and the remaining chimneys are cracked and no longer smoke.

Now, those same red doors have splintered and hang on rusted hinges.

The acrid tang of burned wood has replaced the scent of jasmine.

Ravens nest in the holes of that quartz roof.

“Once upon a time,” Separi mutters, “guests could sleep peacefully here and enjoy a great meal.”

“We’ll make it right again,” I say, more to myself than to Separi.

She laughs without humor. “Easy to say, Lady, but harder to do.” Her gaze flicks to my face, searching. “Unless you’re planning on staying long enough to help with that?”

I wince. “About that… ‘Long enough’ is such an intriguing concept.”

The ravens caw and hop along the ledge as I near the inn.

“There is no death here, Lady.”

“Not to worry, Lady.”

“The Renrians are safe here for now, Lady.”

I nod even though I know what those birds symbolize and what I smell… All can’t be well here. I see that all is not well here. I don’t need any more evidence than the few corpses I step over. I peer at the ravens who are still bowing and cawing and assuring me but…

That smell.

These bodies.

“You look troubled,” Separi says.

“I’m being told one thing,” I say, “but I’m seeing something different.”

Separi unlocks the splintery red doors and opens them wide enough for the both of us to slip through. She immediately closes the doors behind us. “I can’t let anyone in to see…”

I gasp.

The fireplace blazes, and the air, once again, smells of jasmine and toast. The walls gleam, and the carpets shine.

Tables are neatly arranged, each with flickering candles that cast warm light, their flames dancing in the draft.

Patrons scattered around the room, all with shiny lavender eyes, nurse mugs of tea, and eat toasted buttery bread.

All stand as I pass and whisper, “Lady.”

I’ve stepped into another world. “What happened here?”

Separi sees my astonishment and says, wryly, “Surprise.”

We move deeper into the inn. Her boots shuffle softly across the polished wooden floor as she leads me to a secluded alcove by the roaring hearth. “This town has changed, but the Renrians have not. We enchant now more than ever. But visits here now require… discretion .”

The Broken Hammer Inn has been enchanted, and the ravens were right. There is no death here, but there are Renrians laughing and playing flutes.

Separi’s eyes have returned to their true lavender. “Right now, we’re ‘closed for repairs.’ While the Broken Hammer was never a palace, it certainly wasn’t run-down like this. The ravens are blessing us with their presence to keep people away. We’ve done the rest with our gifts.”

We pass the center table. On my last early morning here, Gileon Wake sat at this table with Jadon across from him.

That’s when I discovered Jadon’s identity: a prince, not a blacksmith by the surname “Ealdrehrt.” Olivia Ealdrehrt was not Jadon’s sister but rather Olivia Corby, a rich girl who didn’t want to marry a prince she didn’t love. It feels a lifetime ago.

At the bar, Separi pours me a glass of rum.

“It wouldn’t be safe for us to show our true selves.

The humans of Caburh—and even a few Renrian sympathizers—blame us for this depression.

They claim it’s happened because of our so-called treachery.

They believe that we conspired with you to keep them down, that we believe ourselves to be better than they are. ”

“Oh, but you are better than them,” I say, chuckling. “You’ve given so much to Vallendor and the realms. Your influence moves beyond this space. What have humans done beyond killing each other, overpopulating the realm, destroying the forests and seas, and stinking up the place?”

Separi’s lips quirk into a smile, though her eyes remain somber. “It’s kind of you to say that, but the truth is more complex. Our work is often invisible to those who benefit from it and misunderstood by those who fear it.”

I lean forward, resting my elbows on the shiny bar top.

“Invisible or not, it’s undeniable. You’ve preserved the Aetherium’s stories—the rise and fall of its ancient cities, the wisdom of its sages.

Without the Renrian archives, humans wouldn’t even know how the nightstar affects the tides or the seasons. ”

The songs of Vallendor were nearly lost during the War of Flames.

Renrians recovered them one fragment at a time, recording them in bound texts and teaching them among traveling bards, so that they could live again in the hearts of the people.

During the Plague of Silver Ash, Renrian alchemists found the cure.

While humans burned villages to purge the sick, the folk with the lavender eyes saved thousands of lives.

Renrians recorded how to build aqueducts that provided clean water, and they placed ward-stones around the forest borders to keep the otherworldly from devouring travelers.

Separi lets her head fall with the weight of her responsibility. “I feel guilty for the subterfuge.”

I lift my glass of rum. “I feel awful for what you have to do for your people’s safety. And I apologize for bringing more attention to you and your home.”

Separi smiles at me, but her eyes gleam with tears.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, sipping rum.

“I not only fear for us,” she admits, “but I also fear for Philia. They remember that she arrived here as a member of your party. That she, too, killed a few of Wake’s men.”

The rum burns my belly and rides up my throat. “Oh,” I murmur, remembering.

Philia had held her own with a bow and arrow, killing at least six of Wake’s soldiers before being injured in the fight. She stayed here with Separi and her wife, Ridget, as Jadon and I chased after Gileon.

“Is she doing okay?” I ask.

Separi beckons me to follow her behind the bar and down a flight of dimly lit stairs.

The young redheaded woman stands at the bottom of the landing. “Kai!” Philia whispers, her voice laced with relief.

Thinner now, Philia glows a brassy amber and wears the dulled sage-green dress that she’d worn on the day we first met in Maford. Olivia had sewn this outfit, and it now hangs on Philia’s frame like a mother’s frock on her toddler daughter.

“Phily!” I hop down the rest of the stairs and pull her into a hug. My spirit lifts—I didn’t know I’d be this excited to see her again.

Separi stays up at the bar.

“Did Separi tell you that they’re watching everything we do?” Philia asks.

“Yeah.” I hug her again, and just like that, her glow transforms into a healthy blue.

Philia’s secret bedroom is cramped, with only enough space for a bed and a small table that holds a few books and trinkets. The walls are bare, and the only source of light comes from a small window high up near the ceiling. The air smells musty, as if that window has never been opened.

Philia manages a quick smile, and a spark ignites in her eyes despite the fatigue that clings to her. “So…” Philia searches the empty space behind me. “Where are they?”

“Where are… who ?”

“Jadon and Olivia?” Her eyes bug, and her face crumples. “Are they dead ? They didn’t survive the journey here?” Tears explode in those green eyes and tumble down her patchy-pink cheeks. “What happened, Kai?”

“I don’t know where Olivia is, exactly,” I say, “and Jadon’s in jail. It’s complicated.”

“What’s complicated about helping your friends?” she snaps.

“ Friends ?” I retort bitterly. “Two people who lied to me the entire time we spent together? A thief who stole the clothes off my back and the amulet from around my neck? A man who hid his identity from me even to the very end, shit you don’t even know about because you weren’t there at the Sea of Devour? Friends ?”

“Since you haven’t been helping them,” Philia spits, “what have you been doing?”

Helping people make babies. Providing protection from travelers. Big Realm Shit.

“Helping the great city of Gasho in their recovery,” I say instead.

“Ah,” Philia says, lips curling. “I know about Gasho. You’re content to just laze about where they worship you like you’re some god—”

“I am some god,” I snap.

A crack of thunder booms outside, rumbling against the walls of the inn and down into this room. Upstairs, the Renrians gasp and the startled ravens caw. Somewhere, metal pails clatter to the ground and glass breaks.

“Everything okay down there?” Separi calls out.

To Separi, I say, “No.” To Philia, I say, “Are we really about to go down this road right now?

Shall I take back the healing hug I just gave you?

Those rheumy lungs and sore belly and failing heart—you want all of that back?

I can do that. Or do you want me to do something more extraordinary than that?