Page 102 of Oracle of Ruin

My dagger reflects the light back into the sky as I unsheathe the weapon. I make a show of brandishing it, then stalking off towards the trees before me, praying the spy takes the bait.

He does.

His breath is harsh upon my neck as we trek deeper into the greenery. The sunlight, now distant, blots against the ground through the thick layer of foliage. He attempts to stay in the trees, but his clumsy footsteps alert not only myself but every woodland creature that still breathes of his presence. Once far enough in that the retreat should allow the others time to enter the inn, I spin, the knife in my hand flying into the tree trunk behind the spy. The cool metal edge clips his ear, crimson and silver blood blooming immediately.

“Tell Roiden that trust goes both ways. If he wants to keep sending his dogs into my territory, I will send my assassin into his.”

The mention of Kya causes visible terror to flash across the man’s face and he rushes into the woods, a new stain on the fold of his pants. I pull my knife from the tree, grunting at the bit of flesh still on the blade.

Two haggard yet familiar faces greet me, along with Torin’s sheepish one once I return to the inn.

Finneas crushes me in an embrace, the suffocation welcome after months apart. The large man stands tall, not much of a change in his physique since I last saw him. He has lost a bit of the softer flesh that surrounded his gut and arms, but the loss has only emphasized the bulk of his corded muscle. His freckles have multiplied greatly, despite the paleness of his winter-fresh skin, but there is a sharp gleam in his smile. The same soft brutishness that I’ve known the man to possess has not been damaged in the slightest.

Aiko’s arms replace his the moment the man releases, though she is noticeably more slender. They shake as she holds me, as if she does not have the strength to hold them up that long. Yet she grips me tighter, her fingernails digging into my shoulder. Her face is gaunt and her clever eyes near wild as they search the room. “Where is my daughter?”

Blaine and I fix Torin with a strong glare at the same time, the Vari man all but shrinking into the wall. Apparently, he hadn’t found it necessary to wait for the rest of us to break the news to the nobles on who their daughter has grown to be, but chose to not explain that she is off on a perilous mission that might cost her her life.

It is my mother who answers, her golden hand coming to rest on Aiko’s pale arm. “Verosa is with Derrín in the heart of the mountains. She has gone to consult an Oracle on the future, specifically on how to end the war.” She doesn’t say to kill Ophelus, but the weight is there. She also does not mention the trials, or the fact that she and Derrín will be close to the Bone Wood—far closer than I prefer them to be.

Finneas frowns, seeing through it but choosing not to push, not as his wife collapses onto the couch. “When will she be back?”

“A few days at the latest. She left two nights ago.”

The rooms lays thick with a heavy silence. For the first time in a while, no sarcasm bounces from the walls, or at the very least, an argument. The cold settles in our bones despite the spring sun, only the groaning of the wood as the weight of the silence presses against it filling the room.

After a short while, Aiko balls her fists and parts her lips in a breathy whisper. “I would like to speak with Rowan.”

The “alone” is silent, but the others leave, nonetheless.

Finneas comes to sit next to his wife and motions for me to sit on the stool across from them. “Tell us everything,” he commands. His face is weathered and his arms laced with scars that must run deep into the muscle. Without his smile and twinkling eyes, he looks like the feared warrior he once was. He looks exactly like the type of man who would kill another suitor for his wife.

So I tell them everything with an honesty I didn’t know my black heart still possesses.

Aiko listens with the intensity of a hawk, her deep blue eyes boring into my soul. Her lips purse to taste any lie I might dish to them, but her jaw relaxes when she finds none. Finneas holds her hands in one of his. His other is empty, as it has been for twenty years.

“So everyone else who has gone to see this Oracle has never returned, and yet you let her go?”

“You’ve met her, Aiko. There was nolettingher do anything. She could either go with my support or go with my disapproval, but she was going to go either way.”

The woman inhales, her shoulders hunching as she buries her face in her hands. Her inky black hair falls forward, shrouding her face. The portrait she paints is so distinctly Vera that it causes a spear of hot pain to pierce my heart.

Finneas lays a large hand on her back but she shakes it off. The woman rises and wraps her arms around her midsection, her eyes lined with silver. “I won’t fault you for her choices, but I need a moment before I make you think otherwise.” Each word is strained, as if she is holding herself back even now.

I can only dip my chin in respect and acknowledgment. When her footsteps recede beyond even my hybrid’s earshot, I allow myself to slump forward. My shoulders nearly touch and my spine curves as guilt lays siege on my being. I can feel Finneas’s stare and his lingering question.

“Can you tell me about her?” His voice is soft in juxtaposition to his large figure. “I only really met her the once, and she wasn’t exactly conscious the whole time. We didn’t get to speak the second time before your mother stole her away.” The man cringes at how it sounds, and it forces an equally dry and brief laugh from between my lips.

“Honestly, she told us who she was from day one,” I admit. “She’s grown up quite a bit, but she is still the same spitfire that puts me in my place.”

Finneas beams with something like pride at that, and I continue.

“She’s got this strange view on the world. She sees things as they should be, rather than what they are. She can’t seem to draw a line between the two. Yet she’s not the beam of sunshine everyone would expect her to be. She’s got a short temper and an even shorter leash on her tongue. I’ve never heard such colorful insults in all my life.”

The older man booms with laughter, the sound rattling the windows and my ribs. “She gets that from her mother. The cleverness, that is. She probably gets her temper from me,” he admits.

“But…” I inhale sharply. Finneas deserves to know the truth. “She’s not the same as when you met. Her best friend sacrificed herself for her life, and it changed her. She’s done things, horrible things to other people. She’s learned dark magic and lost all sense of boundaries and morals. She’s not the innocent baby you lost all those years ago. She’s changed.”

I barely scratch the surface of her sins as I recount just some of what Vera has done. To her credit, some was for survival, yes, but the thought of dark magic caressing her palms sends a shiver through my body. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention and Finneas halts me by raising a large hand.

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