Page 75 of Echoes of the Raven
Rífíor grunts.
“The tree trunk doesn’t approve,” Gaspar says.
“I don’t,” Rífíor responds, “give us two horses and Valeria and I can get there in half the time.”
Jago huffs. “Are you forgetting about the guardias?”
“We can outrun them,” Rífíor says.
“Maybe, maybe not. Secrecy is our best ally.”
“You’ve waited this long, Veilfallen,” Esmeralda says. “You can wait a little longer, don’t you think?”
“It may seem that way to you, human, but every day in this godsforsaken realm is untold misery,” Rífíor retorts.
“This godsforsaken realm, as you call it,” I say, jerking to a standing position, “has provided you with shelter and food, and everything you need to survive for two decades, so show a little gratitude.” I don’t think my argument is sound, but anger is the sole force guiding my words at the moment.
“Don’t worry, Princess, the days I spent with you weren’t so bad.”
“You fucking bastardo.” I start toward him, ready to kill him. I’ll teach him not to ever bring up the biggest mistake of my life.
I’ve barely taken a step in his direction when my ears start ringing and my heart beats out of control. I clutch at my chest.
“What is it? Your heart cannot resist the sight of me?” He grins crookedly.
“No, asshole! I… I don’t know. Somethingis w—”
A whistle sounds to my left. A violent pain in my left arm follows as an arrow nicks me, and my legs go weak. I fall, grabbing hold of the aching spot. Something warm and sticky coats my fingers. Blood! I stumble and nearly fall but manage to steady myself. Another whistle follows, and another arrow embeds itself in the oak tree, mere inches from Rífíor’s face. He jumps into action, unsheathing his sword and dropping to one knee by my side.
He presses a hand to my shoulder. “Are you all right?”
There is concern in his eyes. I recoil from it, from him.
He snatches his hand away and glances at Jago. “Take cover!”
Jago doesn’t question the order and starts pulling me behind the oak tree. I hiss in pain as he tugs me along.
Shit!The guardias found us. I thought we’d managed to leave them behind, but—
A blinding blast strikes the base of the tree. Gaspar throws an arm over his eyes as he rounds the trunk, followed by Esmeralda. The acrid smell of charred wood fills the air. Espiritu? The guardias don’t have espiritu—not unless they hired a sorcerer.
“Devils! I told you we should have never agreed to this,” Esmeralda says.
Gaspar looks affronted. “You told me? You were grinning ear to ear over the gold.”
“Quiet!” Jago hisses as I scramble to extricate myself from his hold.
“Let me go. I’m all right. It’s just a scratch.” Pushing my cousin away, I get to my feet and peek around the tree trunk.
Rífíor stands in a crouch, the sword he took from the library positioned right in front of him. Lucky the thing is fae-made! Lucky he took it!
Another ball of espiritu comes flying our way. Quick as the wind, Rífíor moves into its path and cuts it in half, angling the blade just so.
The attackdisintegrates into thousands of miniature fireworks that fizzle harmlessly to the ground.
“Drocháin,” Rífíor curses, followed by a name I despise. “Calierin!”
She’s here? How did she find us? My entrails tremble as the memories of what she did to me rise like phantoms inside my mind. I press a hand to my stomach feeling sick.
