Page 46 of Ashen Wings

“That slimy prick weaseled his way in with a business deal, and next thing I knew, he’d disappeared into the night. While I can’t say I’m glad he’s met his fate, thank you, King Ashborne,” Yaris says, leaning back in his seat.

“Please call me Jace,” Jace says. I clear my throat, interrupting the wary silence shared between the two men.

“I’ll stick with formalities if you don’t mind, My King,” Yaris replies.

Jace straightens, striding to sit beside me, his eyes sharp and voidless.

“There’s something else, Yaris,” I say, attempting to slice the wall of simmering tension. “I’m afraid I must ask you some rather dangerous questions, and I swear to you, this information will not leave these four walls.”

Yaris curls his fingers around the armrest, amber firelight glinting off the signet ring. “Alright.”

“You wear Ceti’s signet.” I nod toward his index finger.

“Yes, I do. It is no crime to honor a fallen house.”

“Of course not,” I reply. “But to have one in your possession suggests you are of noble blood. Is that true?”

Yaris’s lips thin as he glances between Jace and me. “House Ceti fell during the war. There are no surviving descendants. It is known. I simply wear this,” he slides the ring from his index finger, “in memory.”

“Yaris, please. Tell us the truth,” I whisper.

“I understand your mistrust,” Jace says, his brow etched with caution. “But I promise you, I am not the enemy you think me to be.”

“Are you not the son of Van Ashborne himself? The King of Darkness and Blood? I fear I have no answers to the questions you seek, My King. I am but a humble survivor, trying to pick up the pieces your father aided in destroying.”

Jace’s eyes darken and the room chills, even the roaring flames crackle apprehensively.

“I am not my father,” he says, his voice like vicious velvet.

“And I am not of noble blood,” Yaris spits. “Respectfully, I think it best you leave.”

He rises from his seat, palms curling into fists.

“Jace,” I blurt. His villainous eyes shoot to me, and I instantly regret the interjection. “Give us a moment?”

A protest rumbles in his throat, but the King of Shadow smoothes out his tunic, and starts for the door. When the entrance clicks shut and the room warms again, I resettle into my seat.

“He saved my life, you know,” I say, nodding toward the door. “I, too, believed him to be the creature of nightmares the continent speaks of, but there is no malice in coming here. I swear this to you.”

“My dear girl, no matter the lies he’s woven, you cannot possibly trust him. What is it King Ashborne holds over you to force your bidding?”

My mouth dries and I glance at my boots still muddied from the journey. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Is he keeping you captive? Or gods be good, blackmailing you? Tell me, please.” Yaris laces his hands together, concern etched over his features.

“No, no. Nothing like that,” I reply.

“It isn’t you I don’t trust.”

I bite my cheek. Only one slice of information can push us past this impasse, but do I risk it? Is it even my secret to spill? Yaris’s eyes simmer in the candlelight.

“He has an Astralwing, Yaris. An intact egg that hasn’t yet stoned. That’s why we’ve come.”

The old man’s jaw unhinges. “You’re looking for the guardian rider?”

“There are creatures far worse than Jace Ashborne wreaking havoc on Shadow. I’ve seen them firsthand. We need the rider. So please, if you are of Ceti blood, I have to know.”

“Why care for Shadow’s wellbeing? They stood by while Smoke’s regent slaughtered our people—your mother and father. My daughter. All gone from this world because of their inaction,” he says, the words spilling frantically from his dried lips.