“Of course there is.” He’s frustratingly blasé about the matter. “The old gods aren’t meant for our minds to understand. I’m sure there is much we cannot comprehend at work.”
“It’s not just that…I can’t shake the feeling that Lady Lellia…that she’s in trouble.”That someone might be trying to kill her, is what I can’t bring myself to say.
Ilryth’s expression turns serious. He tightens his arm around my shoulder. “She probably is.” His voice is deep with concern. “The rot is no doubt affecting her and I shudder to think what Lord Krokan’s rage might do to her if it’s not quelled.”
“Whywould he hurt her? If he is supposed to love her above all others, if she is without peer, his chosen songmate…why hurt her?” The question stings my eyes. It causes something forgotten in me to ache. A wound I bear that is reminiscent of the roots around us—still oozing. Though I no longer know its cause.
“Because, sometimes, despite our best efforts…we hurt those we love.” He’s thinking of his mother. I can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. “We ask too much of them, or put them in harm’s way. We are a danger to all that we care for.”
I open my mouth and close it. It’s not good enough. The explanation doesn’t satisfy me.
“Love shouldn’t hurt,” I murmur.
“Victoria—”
“He does not love her.”
Ilryth begins ushering me away, as if he can physically move us from this topic. “Lord Krokan is not well… I believe he doesn’t know what he’s doing. But when he comes to his senses—thanks to you—he will. He will be mended, and maybe you can help mend his relationship with his lady wife, too. Maybe he is her bane, but, if he is, he can also be her cure.”
I wrap an arm around Ilryth as well as we begin walking with more speed. I stop resisting. I want to move on from these torturous notions, even if they cling to me.
“Will you indulge me one more question?” I ask.
“I will indulge you anything you desire.”
Heat tries to rise to my cheeks at the unintended implication of those words. “Do you believe me?”
Ilryth halts all movement to lock eyes with mine. “Yes. I believe you have a deeper and greater sense of the old gods than any who have come before. And I believethatwill help save us all.”
I take a small step forward. “Will you help me find these truths, if I seek them?”
“I will be at your side every second you are on this plane.” There’s more unsaid there. He stops himself short.
Placing my hands on his hips, I shift us even closer together. It’s odd not to feel scales. Yet, also, somehow inviting. “I need you to support me until the very end.”
“I swear it.”
What I’m about to ask is cruel. I know what he endured with his mother. He was going to try to avoid that pain again. But perhaps he was right…we do hurt those we love. “Then don’t leave.”
His eyes widen with recognition and a subtle crease furrows his brow. Ilryth knows what I’m asking and, he doesn’t appear cross with me for it. If anything, he seems determined. “Victoria, I’ve long resigned myself that I’m helpless to you. For better or worse, ill or good, I will be at your side until the very end. Mine will be the last song you hear.”
“Thank you.” Two words don’t encompass my gratitude, but they’re all I can offer him.
Worries about old gods abate as the sound of soft moans fills my ears. Of sighs and squeals of delight that make it impossible to focus on anything else. Ilryth stops and shifts. He glances behind and then back ahead.
“What is it?” I’m unable to see what awaits us at the other end of the tunnel we’ve been walking through, but now it wholly consumes my thoughts. The sunlight is so blinding reflected off the pure sands ahead that all I see is brightness. The only clue I have of what awaits me beyond are the noises that my mind is objecting to identifying.
“I was hoping there wouldn’t be others here,” he murmurs.
“Others?”
He purses his lips a second and then looks back to me with a somewhat sheepish smile as he rubs the back of his neck. “Perhaps it would be best if we go back. You don’t really need to see the rest of the island of the Lifetree.” His words say one thing, but his feet refuse to move.
And now I’m even more curious.
“What’s wrong?” I ask—no, demand firmly. He swallows uneasily. I try a gentler approach. “You can tell me.”
But still he says nothing and shakes his head. I have never seen him look so uneasy or embarrassed and I cannot fathom what could possibly have him in such a knot.
