Page 97 of Tides of Shadows

I looked into his eyes. Where rage and hatred had burned moments before, there was now only a quiet request. A plea for me to take his hand, so he wouldn’t be alone.

I stepped forward and took the hand that waited for me.

We walked in absolute silence. I felt Aidenar still struggling against his power, fighting to keep it contained. I felt the fierce grip of his hand, as though he feared to release me. He led us to his chambers.

When the door closed behind us, I felt his shoulders drop. Still, he held my hand.

I stood before him and allowed him to pull me close. He rested his head in the hollow of my neck. I felt him draw long, steadying breaths as he calmed himself, as he inhaled my scent. I knew how much this day had cost him.

“I am sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “For everything. For my mother. For what happened to you. That I did not come quickly enough. That I failed you.”

I closed my eyes tightly. I did not wish to think of it.

He drew back and cupped my face between both hands. His thumbs brushed gently across my cheeks.

“I know what we must do,” he said. “You will come with me to Durminas.” I looked at him surprised.

“That doesn’t sound like a question.”

“Because it’s not.”

“Why should I go there?”

“I don’t know how to help you. But I know someone who can. You won’t be safe anywhere so long as they can reach you.” He paused, studying my face. “When did you last sleep?”

“The night of the rats.” I could not meet his eyes. “For how long?” I asked at last.

“For as long as it takes. Until you learn to control your mind and your dreams.”

“When are we leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

As we stood there, I saw the scar on his throat, the one my knife made.

“I am sorry,” I whispered. “For that.” His skin trembled beneath my finger when I touched him.

“You do not have to apologize for anything,” he replied. “But before we depart, I want to say goodbye to my father. Would you come with me?”

The question surprised me. “Say goodbye? You don’t plan on coming back here?”

“I do not know what fate will bring,” he answered calmly. “But I wish you were there with me. So that he... would know you.”

I couldn’t refuse him. We walked through quiet halls. Before the doors to the regent’s private rooms, the guards bowed their heads and let us pass without a word.

We entered. The room was elegantly furnished but not ostentatiously so. The windows were lightly curtained, and a white cloth fluttered in the morning breeze. It was so calm and quiet here. Half-light ruled the room.

“Father,” Aidenar said lowly, as if he feared to break the silence. “Lady Nerissa Veymaris.”

I drew nearer. Upon the bed lay a man near my father’s years, Lord Nicolas Cavareth. His breath was scarcely a stir. He wore gray robes worked with gold. His face was newly shaved, for the servants tended him. His blond hair spilled upon the pillow. I looked at him for a long time. Aidenar resembled him more than I had thought. Cassandra had given him only her eyes—silver, keen and cold. All else belonged to his father.

Aidenar stood beside the bed, gazing down at his father. His expression was solemn.

“I wish to believe that who we became matters,” he said quietly. “That we are capable of standing against what comes. My father believed in it. That this is worth fighting for. That there is more to this life than palladium and stones.” He paused, his jaw tight. “He risked his life for it. He wanted me to be a better man. I just lost sight of that.”

I reached out my hand to feel if his father was still here. The water I sensed in every living thing ran through him like a narrow thread, faintly glimmering. With it a spark of power. Existence. Life.

“He is still there. Barely felt, but he is there,” I said and touched Aidenar’s arm. “I shall leave you. Lord Cavareth,” I bowed my head, turned toward the door and left them with each other. I could just hear the old witch’s words in my head. Only death will end his suffering.