I lean over. “Can I have a look?”
He gestures for me to go ahead, and I realize he has already taken off the bloody bandages. I stare at the wound, wincing at the angry red burn, its edges inflamed and raw.
“I’m sorry I had to cauterize it, but I’m relieved it worked.” I offer him an apologetic smile.
He nods. “It is not that bad. Besides, it will heal once we are out of here.”
“I hope so. I really had no choice. Blood was gushing out everywhere, even with a tourniquet. You were bleeding through your bandages, leaving a bloody trail behind. I thought I’d take advantage of your unconsciousness and seal the wound. You didn’t even notice. You were so far gone...” I trail off. “Whatever has happened, I’m glad you’re back,” I say, my shoulders dropping with a sigh.
He gives my shoulder a pat, and we eat in silence for a while, the stillness broken only by the wind occasionally whistling through the pass.
Leaning back against the pillar, I study Llyr. His hair is once again tied in a neat tail, his ears covered. No wonder I’ve never noticed them before. Chewing on the last piece of hare, he stares down the pass with a wistful expression. Is Rea his home?
Sliding my hand into my pocket, I stroke the dagger, finding the motion strangely calming. I should give it back to him. Now that I’m free of the brace, I can wield any weapon I choose, so there’s no reason to keep this one, but I keep quiet.
Here you were, berating him for stealing Maeve, when in reality, you are no better yourself.My cheeks heat.
Turning to face the tall pillar, I let my thumb glide across the smooth surface of the dagger while lifting the other to touch the pillar. The stone feels similar, and they carry the same vibration, though on slightly different notes.
“It is a veilstone,” Llyr says. “It is made entirely out of nightstone.”
Is that awe in his voice?
I glance over at him. “And what does a...veilstone... do exactly?” And why does he know this?
A thoughtful expression crosses his face as if he is considering whether or not to say more.
“I noticed your ears,” I blurt.And fangs.But I don’t mention that.
His green eyes snap in my direction, his hand moving toward his right ear, now covered by his long white hair again. “How...?” he begins. Then he shakes his head, muttering more to himself than to me, “Of course.”
“And?” I raise my eyebrows.
“You have probably guessed it by now, but Rea is my home. I am Rean.” A bitter laugh escapes his lips. “Or I guess we are all technically Rean at this point. The humans have been here for over a millennia...” He releases a heavy sigh. “But dear gods, does life in Bronich seem like a different world entirely.” His gaze flickers back to the black stone behind me. “Legend has it the veilstones were created by the twins of fate at the dawn of time.”
I groan.Father help me.
Somehow, every question answered leads to a myriad of new unanswered ones. Twins of fate? Overwhelmed by the sheer scope of my ignorance, I close my eyes and lean back against the cool stone. Somehow, my usual emptiness feels amplified today, the ache in my chest a hollow, gaping hole, and there’s no strength left to fight it.
When I blink my eyes open, I stare into Llyr’s green ones. At least his concern for me seems genuine, Rean or not.
“Oh, Laïna,” he says, shaking his head. “Although you have been through a lot, you have lived a sheltered life indeed.” He pats my knee. “It will get easier in time.”
I nod. I certainly hope so. “So... who are these twins of fate?” I ask.
“They are,were”—a mournful look crosses his face—“two of the seven lesser gods of Rea, or—how can I put it?—two of the tangible gods. Gods that live amongst the Reans—although most Reans have not seen them much for the last millennia. Not since... Never mind.” There’s another fleeting shadow of worry that vanishes as quickly as it appeared, leaving only a slight furrow in his brow.
I stare at him. This is all a terrible offense against the Father. Several gods is simply unheard of. One should not worship any but the Father. Everyone knows that. And to think they would be living amongst mere mortals, that one could interact withgods. Such blasphemy. The statement calls for a burning.
Avoiding his gaze, I sling the satchel over my shoulder. I could have slept for bells more, but we need to get going.
“You still haven’t explained what those veilstones are for,” I say as we set off down the narrow path.
“Well, no one knows the exact workings of the veilstones anymore,” he says with a shrug. “The only knowledge left is that they were used to travel between places, between time.” He casts a backward glance at the pillar, his eyes narrow. “The legends say the strongest veilwalkers could transcend the veils of time even without a veilstone, but no moonborn has had the skill of anam’vile—veilwalking—in ages.”
There it is again, the mysterious moonborn. “What does this moonhave to do with it?”What is a moon, anyway?
“Everything,” he says. “The moons are what grants Reans their magic.”
