Page 99 of Echoes of the Raven
He runs a hand through his hair, looking tired. “It is all the same, I suppose. I keep thinking I should have been able to smell all that blood, but I did not. It makes me suspect Niamhara’s hand.”
Saints and feathers!Even I was able to smell my own nauseating descent toward death. Rífíor, with his keen senses, should have as well. That is indeed strange. Suddenly, I remember something.
“Calierin took my Plumanegra key!” I say.
“Not to worry, I took it back. It’s in one of the rucksacks.”
“That’s a relief.” I pause. “Do you really think Niamhara hid the scent of my blood from you?”
“I do. I have a feeling she has been interferingfor some time.”
His tone hints at afor some timemeasured in decades, far exceeding the mere weeks I’ve envisioned.
“What precisely do you mean?” I ask, though I doubt he will answer my question. Ever since I met him, he has been more impenetrable than the Plumanegra vault.
To my utter astonishment, he sighs with resignation. “I believe it is time to talk. But first, you should eat something. You have to regain your strength.”
What? He’s finally ready to talk, but he wants me to eat first. Seriously? I couldn’t care less about food right now. I think I would gladly starve to death while he tells me all his secrets. I can’t even count how many nights I’ve stayed up inventing conjecture after conjecture about his past.
“I will go get the broth Francisca offered and be back shortly.”
“Wait! Forget about the stupid broth.” I sit up, holding my side and wincing. “We can talk now.”
He leaves anyway, and as he shuts the door behind him, I clench my teeth in frustration. With difficulty, I prop the pillow against the wall and fully sit up. The pain around my middle brings tears to my eyes, but once I get comfortable, it returns to a dull ache. I wait, picking at a hole in the sheets to distract myself. Every minute feels like an hour, and I imagine some catastrophe befalling him, keeping me from ever learning the truth.
I’m irrationally relieved when he comes back. He carries a tray with a ceramic bowl and a piece of bread. The bowl steams as he sets it on the table, and the scent of seasoned broth wafts in front of my nose, awakening my hunger. He tears the soft parts of the bread and drops them into the bowl, then attempts to feed me with a wooden spoon.
I pull back. “Um, what are you doing? I can feed myself. I’m notthathelpless.” I’m taken aback by his behavior. I never imagined Rífíor asthe nurturing type.
He sets the spoon down and puts his hands up. “I’m glad. I’m not accustomed to treating adults like infants.”
I glare at him. “I’m not an infant.”
“No, you certainly are not.” He grins.
I hide a blush by lowering my head as he places the tray on my lap. I begin to eat and find the broth mild in taste, perfect for my convalescent stomach.
“It’s good,” I say.
He nods, pleased for an instant, then his stern, unreadable expression returns.
“Well? I ate. Are you going to talk now?”
“You hardly had a taste.”
I shove three more spoonfuls into my mouth. “Happy now?”
He grunts to indicate he isn’t, but I’m done with this game. “Don’t try to back down. This conversation is overdue.”
“Very well.” He pulls the chair from the corner closer to the bed and sits, interlacing his finger. “Let me start by saying that my life is my own, and I don’t owe anyone any explanations. So this is not that. This is only a necessity. Understood?”
I arch an eyebrow, thinking about his words and trying to decide whether or not they’re true. After some pondering, I come to the conclusion that they are not.
“I disagree,” I tell him. “I think that, after everything you’ve done, after the way you’ve treated me, the least you owe me is an explanation. From the beginning, I’ve been nothing but a pawn to you, a means to an end. Nothing justifies treating anyone like that. Nothing except, perhaps, a terribly,terriblygood reason. So, if you want me to understand you and maybe one day forgive you, youwillexplain yourself.”
His response is a grunt.
I wait expectantly for him to begin but instead, he says, “You’re sitting up. The healer said that once you were able to do that, you should walk.So, get up.” He takes the tray away and puts an arm out, crooking his elbow.
