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“A war,” I said. “Pain, suffering, and brutality created Ruskig.”
“All those things were pieces of a greater tale.”
“So I’ve been told.” I stared at the sod rooftops, jaw tight. “Davorin said he was the cause behind the wars across every kingdom, a way to regain his power. I suppose he thought it something worth boasting over, but in truth, it makes me want to slit his throat deep enough it takes off his entire head.”
“Give him the credit if you wish,” Wraith said, taking a slow step down the hillside. “I choose to give others credit for what is unfolding.”
There were always notches and grooves carved into the surrounding hills of Ruskig for our guards to stand watch. In this odd illusion, every detail seemed so thought out, so well-formed, I struggled to see beyond the mirage.
“Do you know how to return me to my wife? If a new battle is unfolding as you say, I need to be with her or . . .”
“Or?” He turned, the side of his face shielded by the mask giving way to the scars that must’ve mangled his flesh beneath the cover.
I licked my lips and focused on the distant peak of the old royal longhouse. “Or she must let me go and take back her power.”
I rubbed a hand over the lines inked in my skin. A raven, a symbol of Saga’s heart tangled with mine. A sacrifice she willingly gave, but one I would not keep if it meant she was destroyed.
My phantom’s expression softened. “You have a great deal of power over what becomes of you, but first you mustunderstandthis tale of fate if you are to help end it.”
When he turned away again, heading for the refuge, I followed. The soil was damp and loamy beneath my boots, as though a swift rain had pummeled the hovels not long before.
“Wait.” He was more than a dozen paces ahead, and quickening his steps. “What do you mean by that? If I can be free of this and not die, then I will do it.”
I stumbled backward when he wheeled on me. “Is that so?”
I hesitated, but nodded. “I want to be with my wife.”
“Hmm.” Wraith lowered to a crouch, leveling our gazes. There were raised scars peeking out beyond the mask on his face, like angry claws digging into his skin. What mutilation had he survived? “You lie to yourself, and to your wife.”
“I have never lied to her.”
“Then admit the truth. There is a part of you that believes the Raven Queen is better off carving out that feather from your chest. But this is because you do not know the sacrifice it took to bring you here. Nor do you know the consequences that lie in wait should you continue thinking you are a danger to those in your life.”
The words had power, a dark, seedy magic. One that dug deep into the sinews and dark crevices of my heart. A truth I hid well. I believed Saga when she told me she loved me; I clung to those final words like a tether in a rageful storm, but there was another belief that every step I took brought tragedy, death, and pain.
From my family, to the Ettan and Timoran wars, and now in the isles. Wherever I roamed, death and pain followed.
“You see it wrong,” he whispered, and I was beginning to think this apparition could read minds. “You do not see the role fate has designed for you. What you see as a curse, a weakness, you must accept as your power.”
My masked phantom smacked the side of my neck with his open palm. The place where the raven tattoo marked my skin.
I jolted back. “What the hells?”
“Are you worthy of this mark, or are you not? I suppose we’ll find out. Come, you have things to see.” He opened one arm, a gesture to lead me forward.
Clouds shifted in front of the sun. An impossibly swift chill soaked the air, biting through the threads of my tunic to my skin. I glanced at the shadowed huts of Ruskig as unease lifted on the back of my neck.
“Where are we going?”
One corner of Wraith’s mouth lifted. “To the beginning of your story, Ari. To the beginning of all our stories.”
Chapter5
The Raven Queen
Calista toppedmy head in a musty cowl. The trousers were a size too big and had to be secured with a bit of rope. For the first time since arriving, I’d step into the light of Raven Row. Sounds of vendors, drunkards, and game hall arguments had been my constant companions, but I’d been too buried in any writings on fae sleep Calista told me were purchased for an abhorrent amount by seedy dealers in back alleys.
A week had passed since Ari fell asleep, and I’d not shifted to my second form since arriving in the West. A thought that once might’ve brought me a touch of gladness, dried up like scorched kindling.
