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I thought of all of the children we’d had to slay just to survive in the ruins of Meridium. “Perhaps it’s better if you never succeed,” I said softly. “The results could be just as tragic.”
For the first time, Rychel looked a little dejected. “Because we’ve already slaughtered so many, you mean? There is that. Not to mention that I suspect the Valtain themselves must have tried to come up with some way of reversing what happened. And if they failed, then what chance do I have?” She glanced at the body under the tarp. “Still, I’m learning a lot. And faint hope is better than no hope.”
She glanced at me. “Draven was the last pure Siabra child born since this happened. Did you know that?”
I shook my head.
“It’s a sad story though. His mother was giving birth to him as the curse took effect. She died in childbirth. No one was expecting that. It was very uncommon for fae women to face any kind of childbirth complications before that. They’re heartier overall than human women, as you probably know.”
“So he never knew his mother, only his aunt.” That still didn’t mean he had my sympathy. I’d lost my mother young, too. It hadn’t turned me into a lying, morally devoid monster.
“He brought back that chalice, you know,” Rychel continued.
I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. “The one they used at the ceremony?”
“Right. It binds the contestants to the rules of the Blood Rise.”
“What exactly were they drinking from it, anyhow?” I asked
“It doesn’t really matter. It might have been water. Or blood.” She grinned wickedly. “It wasn’t blood. At least, I doubt Sephone would go that far.”
“One of the candidates managed to kill another somehow. I still don’t get how that was done,” I offered.
Rychel rolled her eyes. “Lemme guess. Avriel had already drunk from the cup?”
I nodded. “You guessed it.”
“He probably dropped a poison capsule in as he took a sip, then passed it down.”
That made a sick kind of sense. “So this sort of thing happens all the time?”
“With Avriel? Hell yes. With the chalice? No, because there hasn’t been a Blood Rise competition in... well, a long time. There hasn’t had to be one because the succession ran fairly smoothly before...”
“Before Draven killed his own brother to save Lyrastra? Yeah, I’ve heard the story.”
Rychel looked at me strangely. “Have you?”
“Well, yes. Did I leave anything out?”
Rychel scratched her nose in a way I found endearing. “Rather a lot. But I suppose whoever told you that version wanted it that way. Still...”
“What do you mean?” I demanded. “What was left out exactly? Did Draven do something worse?”
Shit. I hadn’t thought that was possible, but clearly I’d been wrong.
“Not worse,” Rychel said. “They just left out the whole part about how our brother had already murdered Draven’s wife.”
