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“My, you are an ornery one.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “It so happens that I know what your father searches for when he sets off on his little journeys abroad.”
“What is it?”
“Not what.Who.”
“Who is it?”
“A girl.”
While he knew his father had set off on many journeys, he’d never been made privy as to the purpose. “My father searches for a girl?”
“Not just any girl. The one who stands to set him free.”
“Free? From what?”
“Do you see this cut upon my lip?” She tapped it with her grimy finger. “Do you think I suffered this much torment to turn around and spill my secrets to you?”
“Why not just tell him your secrets, then?”
“Secrets are power. The more you have, the more powerful you become. That, and I don’t particularly care to die.”
The baron stared at her longer, puzzling over the woman who seemed as much an oddity as any unearthly creature he’d witnessed over the last few months. “Tell me how you exit the cell without a door.”
“Tell me why you refuse to heal your own wounds when you are perfectly capable of doing so.” Her brow winged up in a knowing way, and she smiled. “I have many powers which are subdued by the horrible little piece of jewelry at my throat.” Her comment drew his eyes there, where the metal gave off an ominous glint.
“The band. Can you not pry it off?”
“No. The only way to free myself of it, is to kill the man who put it there.”
“Who?”
“Your father. He cursed the only one I’ve ever truly loved. And he shall pay for it.Gravely.”
He snapped his gaze to hers, curious as to what level of madness a person would have to succumb to confess such a thing. He glanced toward the door, finding it odd that the pentrosh who typically stood guard outside of it had not yet come crashing through, accusing her of treachery. “You wish to kill my father?”
“I cannot, as I am not powerful enough at the moment. But you are, young lord. You are quite capable of it.”
“And I would acquire tremendous debt for my effort.”
“Debt easily paid, for a man of your talents. I would help you. And you will be spared when the Dark-Winged One awakens again.”
The Dark-Winged One? Again, he found himself glancing back at the door for the pentrosh who would’ve surely called her a Raver for such talk of dark forces.
Something told him not to trust the woman. Perhaps she was merely a test. The bishop’s attempt to teach him another lesson. “I do not want your help. Hire a sell-sword to do your bidding.”
“A sell-sword will inevitably fail. They always have. Your father is a very powerful man. Untouchable to most. But you … you can walk where others can’t.”
“Walk where?”
“Eradye. It is where your father is most powerful.”
The other plane about which Solomon had told him. Had he entertained her reasoning, he’d be branded a Raver. “If that were true, why does he stay here?
“He would starve in Eradye. There are no viable souls to feed off, and the angels cannot tread there, for their powers would be depleted. Fed on by the realm itself. Free me, and you will never suffer punishment by his hands again.”
“Such words would get you killed. In fact, I’m of a mind to think you are nothing more than a test. I do not believe in such fantasies as Eradye. Nor do I believe that you have powers.”
“Then, you are a fool.”
