Instead of answering, I lean back against the bars, crossing my arms. “This place looks far better than the last time I was here. I’m surprised Eres hasn’t placed you in the castle.”
“He tried. Duskbane refused.” She takes a small nibble of the pie, testing, and then a bigger bite. “I don’t care where I sleep. It’s not much different from what I’m used to.”
Twisting, I stretch my neck out. “Where exactly did you stay in Solvandyr?”
A brief hesitation. “With the lieutenant.” For the first time, her voice stumbles on her words.
I regret asking. Whatever she’s lying about, it’s not that. “Is he still breathing?”
She looks away. “As far as I know. You did see it, then. I wondered if you had. You didn’t mention it.”
“I did.” I examine her skin more closely, while she’s not paying attention. The riftlines gifted to her through the Binding aren’t dark like mine, but a pale silver, almost invisible against her golden hue until they catch the light. “I saw no reason to give details that should remain private. The confirmation was enough. You don’t have any scars.”
“Lightbringers have good healers.” I’ve touched on something valuable, or perhaps vulnerable. Her tone sharpens, words coming a little faster.
“You were trained.” I change tactics, moving away from those thoughts. I have no desire to make her relive those memories. Only to find the truth. “Trained to give only the memories you want to. There are too many gaps in your mind, and despite my words to Council, I don’t think you’re empty-headed at all. Who trained you, and why?”
“Nobody,” she snaps immediately. “If my mind is different, it’s a quirk and nothing more.”
She meets my gaze fully, as if daring me to argue.
It could be trauma. It’s the only close explanation, though every case I’ve ever seen presented those memories differently. Even the thought of some of them makes me want to be ill.
But nothing has ever come close to what I saw in her head.
Turning, I dig through the box. Lyra squints when I turn. “What are those?”
“Gloves.” Her eyes widen as I cross the cell, taking hold of her bandaged hand and nudging the leather gloves I took from myown chambers onto her swollen fingers. Her hand must be small enough normally that mine just about fit, even with the swelling.
“It gets very cold in here at night,” I say quietly. “Even with lanterns. You need to keep those warm.”
She doesn’t move as I gather up her other hand. “Why did you bring these?”
She doesn’t trust me. And while I know some parts of her story to be true, I don’t trust her either. But perhaps I can offer her an exchange. “My father was the dreamwalker representative on the Council before me. There is always one. He tried to make a deal with the Lightbringers to broker peace between Solvandyr and Umbraxis.”
Her eyes tighten. “I haven’t heard of such a deal.”
My response is sharp. “Should you have?”
When she doesn’t respond, I continue, pushing out the words around the lump in my throat that appears any time I think about it. “It was a trap, and nothing more. The ones he met never intended to offer peace. My father was slaughtered, along with the unit he took with him. In the aftermath, I spent a significant amount of time here.”
My smile holds no humor. “Believe me when I say that the gloves are needed.”
“I don’t understand.” Lyra’s eyes crease. “If he was trying to achieve peace—”
“He left me a note to explain.” I step away and turn my back. “Many thought it was a lie to cover the truth, that he was colluding with the enemy—sharing information. There were things the Lightbringers couldn’t have known unless someone had told them, and he had that information. Most still believe I had some knowledge of his actions, although I was cleared of any involvement. We were… close.”
Lyra straightens. “If a dealwasoffered, they would not have reneged on it. Our word is our honor.”
“Is it?” She says nothing when I sit on the bed beside her, keeping a distance. “Do you truly believe that? That none of your kind are beyond reproach? That they cannot lie, or betray?”
For a moment, I wonder if she’ll answer. An expression I can’t read flits across her face, gone too quickly for me to interpret. “You still have a seat on the Council.”
My voice rings hollow. “I am the only dreamwalker left. And Kaelen took steps to assure my loyalty.”
“How?”
“Another time.” I turn back to her. Waiting to see if this spilling of my own dark secrets might bring forth any of her own.
