Page 16 of The Night Prince 2

And his honest answer, “I don’t know.”

“Oh, for goodness sake! Do not look as if I killed your puppy!” Rhalyf snarled. “I’m just telling you the truth! The truth is not personal! Or, at least… I am not trying to be cruel to you. I am just giving you advice. Good and proper advice. Advice that will save your life.”

Declan just stared at him. Glowering. Hurting. Rhalyf was helping him, but he was also hurting him. He was saying, in essence, “All these things you fear about yourself? They’re true.”

He wanted to pull denial around himself like a blanket. Curl underneath it. Hide.

But then something occurred to him. Something basic. Something profound.

“Do you need an Adiva, too? Is that why you know so much about them?” Declan asked.

“Me?” Rhalyf gave him a broad smile. “I am as Aravae as Aravae can be. The Sun loves me. Look at my dark golden skin!” He gestured to his left forearm that was the color of well done toast. “Compare that to you! Pale as a fish belly.”

“That has nothing to do with why I get sick–”

“No, it doesn’t. The color of one’s skin or hair or eyes doesn’t say anything about them. Not really. Now remember, keep the Adiva on at all times.” Rhalyf flashed a tight smile as he turned to go.

Declan grabbed his arm to keep him there. He wasn’t done asking questions. “But why are you giving me this? Why are you helping me at all?”

“Because I am a fool,” Rhalyf laughed and then he’d shaken loose of Declan’s restraining hand and moved away.

Even if the Sun hadn’t been out, Declan wouldn’t have followed after Rhalyf, because he’d heard Finley and Gemma out in the hallway with the Aravae. But that meant he hadn’t been able to demand more answers. Maybe even answers to questions he had not dared ask yet. Such as how did Rhalyf know so much about his weakness to sunlight and the solution to it? And since this Adiva had a name–not to mention the fact that it existed at all–did that mean other people had a similar weakness? Who were those people? And was he one of them?

But instead, he’d quickly shut the door to his bedroom and locked it.

His room was bathed in a velvety darkness. He had taped the edges of his blinds shut so that no light could peek in around the edges of the windows. He even put a towel along the bottom of the door so that light wouldn’t leak in from the hallway. He kicked that into place. He had a single candle sitting on the nightstand by his bed, but it was not lit. Yet he could see perfectly. He’d not noticed this before. At least he’d not consciously thought about just how keen his vision actually was.

I can see in the dark. Humans can’t do that. Not like this.

The Sun hurts me. Humans aren’t harmed by the Sun as quickly or as much as I am.

I’m able to kill Leviathan. Humans can’t kill Leviathan, because they have no magic.

I’m faster than a human.

I’m stronger than a human.

So the inevitable conclusion of all of that was: I’m not human. No! I… I have to be human!

He started to pace his bedroom. It was fifteen feet wide and ten feet long. A comfortable space with a queen-sized bed piled with a light as air comforter and plenty of squashy pillows. There was a desk and chair along with a large walk-in closet and ensuite bath. The Aravae liked to be exquisitely clean so bathrooms were more decked out than they had been before the war. There were oceans of hot and cold running water. A gorgeous shower with multiple spray heads. Every toilet had a bidet function with a heated seat.

Everything was powered by the use of Power Stones. They were set into slots on the outside of the home. One would power a whole home with no pollution and no mess, and it only had to be re-energized once a year. The light that they generated didn’t hurt him either, but he still preferred the darkness.

But why? That’s not normal!

For a moment, his mind offered him a memory of a cheerless, cold bedroom. One with a pile of straw for a mattress and a blanket so thin as to be almost see-thru to cover himself with. Rats–or things that had looked like rats, but bigger and meaner–had often leaped over his sleeping form. And if he had not been careful, they would take a bite out of him. And all around had been darkness. So much darkness that it almost had heft.

What memory is this? My bedroom with my adopted parents was not quite as nice as this, but it was no hovel like I’m imagining! Nothing like… that…

The dark, rage-filled face of Vulre Vultorus filled his mind’s eye. The black keep within the dark-shrouded cavern came after that image.

That was my bedroom there. In the Venomthorn. Under Vulre’s tutelage. While none of the students lived in luxury, my room was far worse than even the lowest servant’s. Not that Lady Ashryn knew. Vulre made me lie to her. Made me pretend that I had a bed with the other students in the dormitory. But no, I was locked in the tower.

This knowledge flowed through him. It was as true and certain as anything else he knew. But it was madness! A nightmare! Not real!

Yet was he sure?

He stopped pacing and covered his face with his hands. What was wrong with him? Why was he like this?

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