Page 17 of In the Ravenous Dark
“Help me, then,” I say desperately. “We can help each other, somehow.”
The dead man appears, his back against a pillar at the edge of the room, arms folded across the black armor of his chest. “She’s resistant enough as it is, Silvean. Don’t continue in this vein. You know it will only be harder for her.”
I spin on him. “Who invitedyouhere?”
Penelope looks back and forth between me and my father, before her eyes settle in the dead man’s general direction. “Oh, is that Ivrilos? How is he today?”
She must only be able to detect a vague shadow without making out the details or hearing his voice.Lucky her, I think.
“How is he?” I say incredulously. “Who cares! I despise his very essence.”
“Fine choice of words,” my father says. “Essence is exactly what he is, as a shade. Or pneuma, or breath, or whatever people have called it throughout the ages—it’s all the same, the intangible substance that composes the spirit.”
I glare at the dead man. “If he’s all air, can he blow away and let us get back to our conversation? Better yet, why aren’t we burning this place to the ground and leaving?”
My father looks at me with a level expression. A practiced cover, I realize, for eyes that are deep wells of pain. “They have your mother. She’s safe, but they’re holding her to ensure our cooperation, both yours and mine. And of course they holdyouover me as well. They’ve never had this kind of leverage before. I can’t put one toe out of line.”
My heart turns into a cold and painful lump in my chest.My mother. This is all my fault. But at least I want to do something, anything, unlike the man in front of me. “Why didn’t youalreadyburn this place down, long before they had her or me? I’ve seen what you can do! It’s been almost thirteen years, and you’ve just beensitting here, eating at the same table as these people?” I sneer unabashedly at the two women, ignoring the deepening scowl on Crisea’s face. “Why didn’t you comeback?”
Here it is: the accusation. It bubbles to the surface like pus from an old wound. Because Iwaswounded that day my father was taken. And now I’m realizing he could have healed me.
It isn’t just that I lost my father. I’ve blamedmyselfbitterly for what happened, for once wishing he would join the wards. I know it’s not entirely logical, but I’ve felt like that wish brought them down on his head. I’ve nearly drowned myself in wine trying toforget. I’ve wanted to escape the past so desperately that I planned to leave everything and everyone I’ve ever known behind.
And yet my father has been here, living in the palace all this time.
“You don’t understand, Rovan. I—” He grimaces. “I can’t say much, but know that I am little more than a glorified prisoner here. You’ll find out soon enough that guardians watch over their wards in more than one way.”
“Silvean,” the dead man warns.
“So they’re our captors as much as our protectors,” I say. “Do they hurt their wards?”
My father doesn’t respond, only stares at the dead man with a tight expression.
After a second, the dead man sighs and answers me. “Only those who resist. I don’t advise making a habit of it.”
For a moment, I consider using my favorite sigil to throw the entire table at the dead man to show him how I feel aboutthat, but then a wave of dizziness overtakes me. I stumble over to a chair and sit down hard. I can’t remember when I last ate or had a drink of water. The most recent thing to have passed my lips was on its wayout, sometime yesterday morning.
My voice cracks. “So that’s it? We just give up, roll over like dogs, and have breakfast?”
“Lunch,” Crisea corrects.
“Who cares which meal it is?” I erupt. “I don’t even know where I am, I don’t know where my mother is”—I toss my head at my father—“and I don’t even knowyou. Not anymore.”
He flinches. “I know.”
“You’re in the palace, silly child,” Penelope says in her no-nonsense tone that makes me want to scream. “There are worse places to be, such as the dungeons, so I don’t see why you’re complaining. And you have a busy day ahead of you, so I recommend you conserve your strength and eat something.”
Goddess.So Iamin the palace, that spiraling white structure rising like a seashell to dominate the center of the city. I’m about to tell the princess where she can shove her recommendation when my attention snags on two words. “Busy day?”
“Didn’t you hear about my dear father, King Neleus?” Penelope asks. It doesn’t sound like he’s very dear to her at all.
I shake my head. I don’t give a flying fig about the king right now.
“How could younothave?” Crisea scoffs.
“Cris,” my father begins.
As much as my father and Penelope don’t seem to like each other, he still has a pet name for her daughter. Fury burns through me again.
