Page 14 of Stormvein
I see the tower again, silver walls gleaming against the backdrop of an endless desert. I see a woman again, standing at the threshold, waiting.
I see Sacha.
He reaches for me through the darkness, his form insubstantial but unmistakable. Shadow tendrils curl around him, not fully formed, as if he’s struggling to maintain his shape. His eyes lock with mine, that penetrating gaze that sees everything, calculates everything.
I reach back, silver spilling from my fingertips, stretching toward his shadows.
“Sacha. Where are you?”
Our powers almost touch. Almost connect.
And then someone shakes me.
My eyes open to find Mira standing over me. She doesn’t ask why I’m in his room, why I’m holding onto the pillow like it’s aperson. Her expression is blank, but I catch the concern in her eyes.
“The Veinwarden leaders are gathering. Varam suggested that you might wish to be there.”
I sit up, pushing my hair off my face. My eyes feel gritty, swollen from the tears I shed. My head hurts. But the light has dimmed to a barely visible shimmer beneath my skin, and the power feels different now. Not gone, but more stable, as though it’s settling into my body rather than projecting outward.
The mist stalker is sitting at the foot of the bed, watching us both.
“Has there been any news?” I already know what her answer will be, but I can’t stop myself from asking, from hoping that Sacha has returned while I slept.
She shakes her head, and answers like I’m asking whether there have been Authority sightings. “Our lookouts near the pass have reported movement in the valley, but no one has come close enough for us to be concerned.”
Her eyes dare me to tell her she misunderstood my question, but I don’t. We both know what I was asking. We both know she’s deliberately misinterpreting.
“Let me clean up and get dressed.”
I wash quickly and braid my hair. I don’t have time to wash it, so this is the next best thing. The ache behind my eyes hasn’t faded, but I smooth my tunic, pull my shoulders straight, and follow Mira through the passageways without a word.
When we arrive at the meeting chamber twenty minutes later, the buzz of conversation stops dead. Twelve people sit in a semicircle, their faces solemn. I’ve met most of them during my time here, always with Sacha translating. Since … Well, since Ashenvale, I haven’t needed to ask for translations, I can understand everyone perfectly.
I stop in the doorway, the mist stalker beside me. It draws glances from the people inside, but no one comments on it. Mira takes her place beside Varam.
“Ellie.” It’s Lisandra who speaks first. She doesn’t sound pleased to see me. “Did you sleep well? Are you feeling better?”
“Yes.” It’s not a complete lie. The chaotic surges have subsided enough for me to function. My mind feels clearer. Enough to focus, anyway.
“Good.” She turns to address the Veinwardens assembled around the table. “I have asked you all here today to share news. It saddens me to report that Lord Torran fell at Ashenvale.”
Murmurs ripple through the room. Shock, denial, worry. Faces darken with grief, anger, and fear for what this might mean. Someone swears under their breath. A woman presses her fingers to her mouth. One of the younger Veinwardens bows his head and closes his eyes.
“What happened?” A woman I don’t know asks, her voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes.
Varam recounts the events at Ashenvale, focusing only on the ambush, the crystal weapon, and Sacha’s fall. He speaks clinically, an officer reporting the facts, but I hear the subtle breaks in his voice when he repeats what Mira told him about how the crystal tore at Sacha’s shadows, how they seemed to fracture and dissolve his very essence.
The Veinwardens listen in stunned silence, the full impact of what they’ve lost settling over the room like a physical force. He wasn’t just their commander. He was the one person they believed couldn’t fall. He’d returned from the dead once, after all.
When he finishes, a man with a scarred face speaks up. “It seems Sereven finally got what he wanted.” The name carries such hatred that it seems to darken the air.
“No!” The word escapes before I can stop it. All eyes turn to me. A strange pressure fills the air around me. “I don’t believe he’s dead.”
“Ellie—” Varam begins.
“There wasnobody.” I force my voice to remain steady. “We don’tknowwhat happened. The crystal did something to his shadows, yes, but we don’t know that it killed him.”
“Mira said his familiar came to you,” Lisandra says. Her gaze moves over the silver streaks that have begun to flicker beneath my skin again. “That alone is significant.”
