Late Eclipses
Page 51
“Lily’s dead.”
“I’m aware.” She shot a murderous glare at Quentin. “I’m not sure what that has to do with your being here.”
I silently resolved to get Quentin out of there sooner than later. Having a man on the inside wasn’t worth the risk of having Raysel truly angry with him. “I’m just here to see your father.”
“Why should I let you anywhere near my parents?” She jerked her chin toward Quentin. “He can’t help you. He’s just a page here.”
“I know that. But I have news, and I need to speak with my liege.”
“You can give your news to me. My father will listen to you, even if your message comes from my lips.” The venom in her voice was unmistakable.
The words escaped before I could stop them. “Why do you hate me so much?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know. I won’t let you.”
“Raysel, I’m not pretending. I don’t—”
She cut me off, demanding, “Do you have any idea where I grew up?”
I stared at her, not sure how I was supposed to answer. Quentin’s expression was as blank as mine. “No, I don’t,” I said, lacking anything else to say.
“I grew up in nothing,” she said. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment she achieved a look I’d seen on her father’s face a hundred times: pure and righteous anger. “It was dark and cold, and it hurt to breathe, and it never ended. They threw us food, sometimes, and water, sometimes, but never enough, and I was always hungry. I almost forgot what light was until the day the binding fell away, and then I thought the sun had come to kill us, and I was glad.”
“Root and branch,” I breathed. “Raysel . . . ”
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. Do you know what my mother said to me every day—every hour—of my childhood? Do you?! ”
“No,” I said. Watching Raysel’s anger was like watching a train wreck. It was horrifying, but I couldn’t look away. Somehow, I couldn’t shake the small, terrible feeling that she was right; this was my fault.
“ ‘Your father’s coming,’ ” she said, in mocking parody of Luna’s measured tones. “ ‘He’ll save us. He won’t let us die here.’ ” She shook her head, voice returning to normal. “But he didn’t come. So she told me about his allies. She told me everything.”
I winced. It was obvious I’d been included in those “allies.” I was starting to understand why she hated me, and I didn’t want to.
Raysel ignored my distress, continuing, “‘Evening will find us, and your father will raise an army, and Toby—’ ” She faltered, looking confused and a little lost. That was the first time I saw her truly unguarded. “Toby will come. That’s what she does. When we need her, she comes.”
“Raysel . . . ”
She glared. The moment was over. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see my mother go crazy calling for my father, calling for you. She never lost faith in either of you. She believed in you. And you never came. So you can make all the excuses you want, and Father will believe them, because he wants to. He wants to think you’re perfect, but you’re not. You’re just a stupid changeling, and you have no business here.”
“I tried to find you.” The words sounded feeble. I’m supposed to be a hero. So why didn’t I save them?
“You failed,” she said. “You died for us, but you didn’t have the decency to stay dead. You wonder why I hate you? Because you came back. You abandoned us, and then you came back and took everything away from me! My husband, my parents, everyone in this Duchy wishes I were you. What did I do to deserve that?”
She was right. Her father didn’t know her, and her mother didn’t understand her, but they knew me. They loved me. “It isn’t my fault.”
“Do you think I care? Besides, it doesn’t matter now. You won’t be my problem much longer.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you really think I believe you poisoned my mother?” She giggled. “You’re the family dog. You couldn’t hurt her if you wanted to. That doesn’t matter, because when she dies, my finger points to you. The Duchy has its justice, and I have my peace.”
“You’ll never convince the Queen,” said Quentin.
She smiled sweetly. “I think you’ll be surprised, little boy. You’re a foster here, and your word will never stack up against mine. You have no power, no authority, and no reason to be trusted.”
“You’ll let the real killer go?” I asked, aghast. I understood revenge, but this wasn’t revenge. This was insanity.
“Oh, no. We’ll realize our mistake once you’re dead, and whoever did this will be caught and punished.” Her smile was thin and triumphant. “All’s well that ends well. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to fetch something.” She turned and stalked away, clearly intent on having the last word.
Quentin started to go after her. I grabbed his sleeve, holding him back. “No, Quentin. She’s not worth it.”
“But she—”
“Can you prove it?”
He stopped. “What?”
“Can you prove she did anything? Can you even prove we had this conversation? You and I have a past. We’ve worked together. I could have convinced you to take my side.” I sighed. “We can’t prove a damn thing.” Raysel was clever. Telling Quentin didn’t endanger her; it just gave her a chance to discredit him if he tried to come forward. We were stuck.
He stared at me for a moment, and then sagged. “This sucks.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “It does.”
TWENTY-ONE
ETIENNE LOOKED MORE DISTRESSED THAN ever when he returned. “His Grace didn’t answer when I knocked. I’ve called for Jin, but it may take some time.”
“That’s okay.” I raked my hair back, grimacing as the movement tugged on my bandages. “I could use a moment to catch my breath.”
“If you don’t mind my saying so, you don’t look well,” said Etienne, hesitating before adding, “I’ve never seen you maintain a human persona inside the knowe.”
“What?” I felt the rounded edge of my ear, resisting the urge to laugh. “Oak and ash, Etienne, I didn’t even realize I was still wearing the damn thing.” I hesitated before adding, “I’m not sure I could put it up again if I took it down right now. I’m not exactly at my best.”
“I’m aware.” She shot a murderous glare at Quentin. “I’m not sure what that has to do with your being here.”
I silently resolved to get Quentin out of there sooner than later. Having a man on the inside wasn’t worth the risk of having Raysel truly angry with him. “I’m just here to see your father.”
“Why should I let you anywhere near my parents?” She jerked her chin toward Quentin. “He can’t help you. He’s just a page here.”
“I know that. But I have news, and I need to speak with my liege.”
“You can give your news to me. My father will listen to you, even if your message comes from my lips.” The venom in her voice was unmistakable.
The words escaped before I could stop them. “Why do you hate me so much?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know. I won’t let you.”
“Raysel, I’m not pretending. I don’t—”
She cut me off, demanding, “Do you have any idea where I grew up?”
I stared at her, not sure how I was supposed to answer. Quentin’s expression was as blank as mine. “No, I don’t,” I said, lacking anything else to say.
“I grew up in nothing,” she said. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment she achieved a look I’d seen on her father’s face a hundred times: pure and righteous anger. “It was dark and cold, and it hurt to breathe, and it never ended. They threw us food, sometimes, and water, sometimes, but never enough, and I was always hungry. I almost forgot what light was until the day the binding fell away, and then I thought the sun had come to kill us, and I was glad.”
“Root and branch,” I breathed. “Raysel . . . ”
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. Do you know what my mother said to me every day—every hour—of my childhood? Do you?! ”
“No,” I said. Watching Raysel’s anger was like watching a train wreck. It was horrifying, but I couldn’t look away. Somehow, I couldn’t shake the small, terrible feeling that she was right; this was my fault.
“ ‘Your father’s coming,’ ” she said, in mocking parody of Luna’s measured tones. “ ‘He’ll save us. He won’t let us die here.’ ” She shook her head, voice returning to normal. “But he didn’t come. So she told me about his allies. She told me everything.”
I winced. It was obvious I’d been included in those “allies.” I was starting to understand why she hated me, and I didn’t want to.
Raysel ignored my distress, continuing, “‘Evening will find us, and your father will raise an army, and Toby—’ ” She faltered, looking confused and a little lost. That was the first time I saw her truly unguarded. “Toby will come. That’s what she does. When we need her, she comes.”
“Raysel . . . ”
She glared. The moment was over. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see my mother go crazy calling for my father, calling for you. She never lost faith in either of you. She believed in you. And you never came. So you can make all the excuses you want, and Father will believe them, because he wants to. He wants to think you’re perfect, but you’re not. You’re just a stupid changeling, and you have no business here.”
“I tried to find you.” The words sounded feeble. I’m supposed to be a hero. So why didn’t I save them?
“You failed,” she said. “You died for us, but you didn’t have the decency to stay dead. You wonder why I hate you? Because you came back. You abandoned us, and then you came back and took everything away from me! My husband, my parents, everyone in this Duchy wishes I were you. What did I do to deserve that?”
She was right. Her father didn’t know her, and her mother didn’t understand her, but they knew me. They loved me. “It isn’t my fault.”
“Do you think I care? Besides, it doesn’t matter now. You won’t be my problem much longer.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you really think I believe you poisoned my mother?” She giggled. “You’re the family dog. You couldn’t hurt her if you wanted to. That doesn’t matter, because when she dies, my finger points to you. The Duchy has its justice, and I have my peace.”
“You’ll never convince the Queen,” said Quentin.
She smiled sweetly. “I think you’ll be surprised, little boy. You’re a foster here, and your word will never stack up against mine. You have no power, no authority, and no reason to be trusted.”
“You’ll let the real killer go?” I asked, aghast. I understood revenge, but this wasn’t revenge. This was insanity.
“Oh, no. We’ll realize our mistake once you’re dead, and whoever did this will be caught and punished.” Her smile was thin and triumphant. “All’s well that ends well. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to fetch something.” She turned and stalked away, clearly intent on having the last word.
Quentin started to go after her. I grabbed his sleeve, holding him back. “No, Quentin. She’s not worth it.”
“But she—”
“Can you prove it?”
He stopped. “What?”
“Can you prove she did anything? Can you even prove we had this conversation? You and I have a past. We’ve worked together. I could have convinced you to take my side.” I sighed. “We can’t prove a damn thing.” Raysel was clever. Telling Quentin didn’t endanger her; it just gave her a chance to discredit him if he tried to come forward. We were stuck.
He stared at me for a moment, and then sagged. “This sucks.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “It does.”
TWENTY-ONE
ETIENNE LOOKED MORE DISTRESSED THAN ever when he returned. “His Grace didn’t answer when I knocked. I’ve called for Jin, but it may take some time.”
“That’s okay.” I raked my hair back, grimacing as the movement tugged on my bandages. “I could use a moment to catch my breath.”
“If you don’t mind my saying so, you don’t look well,” said Etienne, hesitating before adding, “I’ve never seen you maintain a human persona inside the knowe.”
“What?” I felt the rounded edge of my ear, resisting the urge to laugh. “Oak and ash, Etienne, I didn’t even realize I was still wearing the damn thing.” I hesitated before adding, “I’m not sure I could put it up again if I took it down right now. I’m not exactly at my best.”
