Page 13 of Echoes of the Raven
“You’re awake.” Jago leans over and enters my field of vision. “Hello there, cousin. You need to take better care of your wardrobe. What have you done to that poor dress?”
With difficulty, I push onto my elbows and look around. Two more people are here: Gaspar and the Romani traitor, Esmeralda.
I frown, expecting Calierin to slap me in the face to jolt me out of another cruel hallucination, but the fae female doesn’t appear, and the longer I stare into Esmeralda’s green eyes, the more I start to suspect this isn’t an espiritu-induced dream, after all.
My gaze travels back to Jago, whose eyebrows are raised in an expression that suggests he thinks I’m deranged and expects me to start summoning a flock of singing fairies.
“We rescued you,” he says as if speaking to a child incapable of seeing the obvious.
I blink.
Jago glances at Gaspar. “Is she… all there?”
“If I were to hazard a guess, I’d reckon they messed with her mind.” El Gran Místico rubs at his braided, beaded beard, frowning at me.
“It’s all right,” Esmeralda says. “You’re safe now.”
My head whips toward her, and I fix her with a glare as sharp as daggers, half-expecting a swarm of maggots to spill from her lips. Calierin tormented me with visions of Amira’s lifeless form overrun by them, crawling out of her mouth, nose, ears, even her eye sockets. I screamed until my throat went raw, all while Calierin laughed and Rífíor watched on, unmoved.
I hug myself and shiver at the thought.
Esmeralda puts both hands up and presses her lips into a tight line.
“Don’t be mad at Esmeralda, Val,” Jago says. “If it weren’t for her, you’d still be deep in the ground. She figured out where they were holding you. And Gaspar… he used his pointy ears to infiltrate and his espiritu to guide him straight to you.”
I hold my head in my hands and squeeze my eyes shut.
Wake up, Val. Wake up!
When I open my eyes again, Jago, Esmeralda and Gaspar are still there, peering at me as if I’m made of glass and they fear I’ll shatter at any moment.
This is real.
No. It isn’t!
I shake my head, feeling on the verge of tears. Slowly, I lie back down, bending my legs toward my stomach and hugging them tightly. I close my eyes and will everything to go away.
“Oh, Val.” Jago presses a hand to my forehead. “What did they do to you?”
“You best let her rest. She’s been through a lot,” Gaspar says.
“Those damn veilfallen!” Jago growls. “Amira will make them pay. Just wait ‘til I tell her where to find them.”
“I can make a draught for her. It will help her sleep peacefully,” Esmeralda suggests. “I’ll see to her feet and that wound by her eye, too.”
“Yes, please, do that.” Jago squeezes my hand, and I find comfort in his touch.
I try to sleep, but I’m too jittery, my body rippling with intermittent shivers that make my teeth shatter.
Bottles clink, then a moment later, Jago presses a small cup to my lips.
“Drink this,monita.”
I swallow, surprised and oddly relieved by the moniker. He hasn’t called me that in a long time, and there’s no way Calierin would have known my cousin used this term as an endearment when we were little. He used to say I was a little monkey who loved to climb trees, that I was born in the wrong body.
You’re safe, Val. You reallyaresafe.
It is this thought and perhaps Esmeralda’s draught that help me fall into truly restful sleep. Something I haven’t had in days.
