I was leaning forward when Reyla came up behind me.
“What are you doing?” Sadness clung to her voice.
37
VEXXION
Islipped through a gap in the broad stone cliff face and wedged my way through the long passage that spilled out into a small cave. Before she died, my mother shared this location with me and told me this was where I’d have to go to seek my court’s core. When I was old enough. Strong enough. Dying, she was aware there may not be anyone who could help me find it after she was gone.
As long as Ivenrail’s collar remained around my throat, I couldn’t come here. He slowly swallowed my court’s core, siphoning it through me, its true heir, and there was nothing I could do about it but let him bleed my court dry. Control was the final curse of a claiming collar, and we fae had used it with joy since the lesser fae strode through the veil and left us behind.
Only now could I come here to take back what was mine.
He’d feel me claim it as if I was reaching into his chest and ripping away his ribs one by one.
I’d smile while I did it.
Dim lights glowed overhead, tiny insects that responded to movement below by rubbing their wings together. The grating sound they made served as a warning to those who passed, but the light they inadvertently generated would guide my way.
I strode down the slope, my feet nearly silent on the dirt floor, moving around boulders and stepping over large rocks. The passage arched around me, made up of stone threaded through with veins of one precious mineral after another.
Cool air whispered through the tunnel, draping itself around me in a damp cloak, and the steady thrum of my heart in my ears kept me company.
Clangs reached me before I left the long passage and stepped into the vast cavern where troll clans worked to extract minerals and stones like the pabrilleen I still clutched. The stone was returning home but only for a visit. When I gave it to Tempest, it no longer belonged to me.
A troll stepped in front of me, blocking my path, a bulky figure wearing dirt-smeared pants and a gray, sleeveless tunic. He held a pick and a hammer, though he didn’t lift them in threat. His greenish skin was thick and scarred from working with stone all his life. Intelligence shone on his broad face and his deep-set black eyes glinted under his heavy brow. He sniffed the air and leaned forward as if drawn by curiosity rather than a need to catch my scent. His craggy face smoothed, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward, suggesting we’d formed an uneasy truce.
“So ye’ve finally come, have ye?” he asked, his low, scratchy voice ringing out enough to make many of the trolls mining below us pause and peer in our direction.
A flick of his hand, and they returned to work.
“Cristalon.” I gave him a bow. “It’s been a long time.”
“That it has, High Lord. That it has. Didn’t think I’d see ye again, not after the monster ye prefer not to call father trapped me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Ye are not the cause,” he said.
“I should’ve done more.” Always, I should do more.
“What did ye expect a tiny thing like ye could do against a fearsome beast like him?”
“Something.”
He shook his head. “If ye cannot forgive yerself, who can?”
That gave me pause. I’d spend most of my life trying to make up for what Ivenrail did. Only now could I see that what he did was not a reflection on me.
Swallowing felt like forcing down a jagged stone.
“A revelation I’ve given ye, now haven’t I?” Cristalon’s low cackle rang out. “A favor ye don’t need to return. Free, it is. Free!”
“Thank you.” This time, my bow held full meaning.
“Let go of yer past, and ye will find ye can walk confidently into yer future.”
“I’ll remember.”
