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Then it would be worth the pain. “And you believe it is Nurse Chardryn who did it?”
“I do.”
Elina pulled a shaky breath. “Tell me why.”
Warrick the Bedded
Darcoth
In the same manner she’d lain with him before—face to face on the pillow as she told him of her betrayals—they did again now as Warrick told her of the poison. Aware of how his voice might carry through the tent walls despite the ongoing music and celebration, quietly Warrick explained what he’d learned in these past days of helping Chardryn prepare the tonic. How he’d attempted to determine whether anyone else could have altered the contents in the apothecary chest without her knowledge—for five years ongoing—and how her familiarity with each herb and powder was contradictory to her simple mistake with the doxweed.
Elina listened intently, their bound hands nestled under her cheek. Yet when her question came, it was not about Chardryn. “How do you know it is a simple mistake?”
“My mother is a healer. A witch. We were to become the same—me, my brothers and sister—and so she began teaching us as soon as we could speak.”
“Yet you left the Dead Lands and your clan?” Her curious gaze searched his. “Because you could see ghosts?”
“My curse or my gift,” he said. “I knew not what it was then. I left to discover that answer.”
“And helped people. Not only the dead, but those alive who loved them.”
“I have tried. Wrongs cannot truly be righted. The dead cannot be given life again.”
“Yet it is something to offer them justice. You could have turned your head and pretended not to see.” With her free hand, she reached out to caress his jaw. “It is bravely done.”
His chest ached with the sweetness of that light touch—the first time she had deliberately reached out to him since discovering his deception. She had not fully forgiven him. Likely did not fully trust him.
More probably, she’d merely decided to trust him more than everyone else who had deceived her…and whom she now trusted not at all.
She withdrew her hand with a heavy sigh. “We must decide what to do next. We must continue onward, of course. Yet Chardryn’s betrayal will be deeply felt by all.”
“We will go west.”
“West? But—” Her brows drew together. Sudden wariness shuttered her gaze. “Is it not dangerous?”
“No more than anywhere else,” he said softly, knowing the painful conclusion she’d already drawn. “I have friends in Galoth who can assist us. It will be the fastest route for you to return home.”
Flatly she said, “Serjeant Iarthil is keeping me from Aleron.”
“It would seem. He has said that he regrets a vow he made but—”
“He will not rescind it.” It was not a question. She likely knew Iarthil too well to believe he would.
“Not until he speaks to your mother.”
She huffed a short, disbelieving laugh and rolled onto her back, staring up at the roof of the tent. In a dull voice, she said, “It seems I have no tears left. Or no expectations of loyalty from anyone, so I feel no pain or surprise.”
Or she’d suffered so many blows, numbness had set in. Heart aching for her, he gently clasped tighter their beribboned fingers. “I keep in my mind the names of those who have betrayed you, wife. My axe’s journey need not begin and end with your uncle Soren. Simply speak it into truth.”
A more genuine laugh broke from her—and with it, he thought, some of the numbness cracked, for she pressed her forearm across her eyes. “I did not want to believe it of Serjeant Iarthil,” she said in a voice thick with tears. “Though I knew. These past two years—after the jewels landed in my lap—I have been pushing harder for us to return. After all, the rings could protect me from my uncle. A part of me assumed that was what I was meant to do. For why would a raven drop them into my lap if not to help free my people? But Serjeant Iarthil insisted we continue searching for the warrior from the prophecy, claiming that the jewels alone would not protect me from Soren. We needed the axe, too.” She gave a bitter little laugh. “Now I will return to Aleron with both the axe and the jewels, and if I survive the purge, I might even live long enough to see my uncle felled—but I wonder what sort of queen I am that everyone is so ready to betray me.”
A sharp claw seemed stuck in his heart. “You will not have the jewels when we reach Aleron.”
She lifted her arm from her eyes and frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
“They are the Stars of Anhera. You know of the stone sickness in Galoth?”
A single nod was her answer, her gaze intent on his.
He rubbed the tips of his entwined fingers across her rings. “These were stolen from the goddess ten years past. When they are returned, it will break the curse.”
