“Make it stop,” she pleaded, withdrawing her magic. “Make it stop!” She was shaking. She was being shaken.
“Eira, look at me. Eira,look.”
Eira peeled open her eyes to stare up at Deneya. The woman had her hands on Eira’s arms, clutching her so tightly that her fingers would no doubt leave bruises. Eira panted, breathless. Her head was splitting open with unbearable pain.
“What did you hear?” Deneya growled.
“I…too much.” Eira shook her head.
“You weren’t supposed to actually listen to anything here. I told you not to go asking questions.”
But it was too late now. The voices had been unleashed, and the room was suddenly alive with them. Eira heard conversations between Ulvarth and the last Voice of Yargen—the woman who held the position before Taavin. She heard Deneya and the same woman, as Deneya asked the former Voice for the flame. She heard Vi and Taavin’s voices in conversations that made no sense. The stones practically screamed for her to listen, as though they were trying to unload a thousand years of untold secrets and stories.
Deneya’s voice from long ago came back into clarity. An altercation had happened here between her and Ulvarth. Ulvarth’s rough tones accused Deneya of undermining him, of framing him. They lingered against the words Eira had heard in the Pillars’ hideaway.
“You…you took it,” Eira whispered, eyes darting between the room, Deneya, the column, and back. There was too much, but she could make sense of that little. “You were the one who took the Flame of Yargen. Then you blamed Ulvarth for it. You were the one who had him locked away, who brought the knights here to take him.”
Deneya’s expression twisted with horror and disgust. “Stop.”
“If not for you, the Pillars wouldn’t exist.Youwere the one who gave them their Champion unjustly condemned…who gave them motivation.”
“Enough!” Deneya shouted at her, shaking her twice. “Did I not warn you that there are some truths you should never uncover? Did I not tell you that some stones shouldn’t be upturned or, in your case, listened to?”
Half of Deneya’s face was illuminated by the bright sunlight let in by the large windows of the main room. The other half was cast in intense shadows from the dark place that once housed the Flame of Yargen. In this moment, Deneya looked capable of great good and great evil and Eira wasn’t quite certain what side she would ultimately be resigned to.
“My magic acted on its own.” It wasn’t entirely true.
“You’ve said you have control.”
“I usually do but that pedestal…” Eira trailed off, staring at the offending object. It looked so innocuous. “There’s a fearsome intensity to it. Frightening, even. I wish I hadn’t heard it.”
“You’ll wish that more if you don’t keep what you heard to yourself,” Deneya cautioned and finally released her. Disapproval—maybe even disgust—radiated off the woman, and Deneya could no longer look Eira in the eyes. “Come over here. I think I found something that might work.”
Eira diligently followed behind to a far corner of the room. There was a crack in the plaster that Deneya wedged a pocket knife into. She stabbed around the plaster, perforating it to the point that a hunk the size of Eira’s palm came loose.
“It has the painting of this room, so they’ll be certain to recognize it.”
“Good thinking.” Eira took the token, slipping it into one of the deep pockets of the loose-fitting trousers she wore.
“You should go. Do you remember how to get back to the passage where your clothes are?”
“I think so.”
“All right. I have some other business to attend to,” Deneya said dismissively.
“You’re not going to watch me and make sure I make it safely?” Eira patted her pocket. “They might abduct me just because they know I have this now.”
“Don’t get caught then.”
Deneya was disappointed in what Eira had discovered and was punishing her for it. Eira had seen the emotion from her family enough times to know it well. It was the same look Marcus had given her when Eira had discovered one summer that he was sneaking out to see a lover at the beach.
“You have to manage as a shadow sometime,” Deneya continued. “Use your illusions. When you get to the door, use the combination 0-1-5.”
“Very well.” There was little point in arguing. It wouldn’t go over well and, even though fear was already tugging at her hems with every step, Eira was certain she’d be all right. She had to keep believing that—no matter how foolish it was—to keep existing in this world.
Eira started for the door but paused, glancing over her shoulder. The Head Specter leaned against the wall, arms folded, a scowl across her face as she stared out the window at Risen below. Eira ran her fingers over the hunk of plaster, resisting the urge to give it a listen…for now.
“Deneya,” Eira said softly. If her companion didn’t hear her, then she’d leave.
