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“Rheih?” I asked, catching her name.
She held out her hand to me. “Rheih Talonseer.”
I shook her hand. “You may call me Keera,” I said with a small smile, aware that Rheih’s eyes tracked me even as I turned to Nikolai.
“I’m grateful you managed to blow the dam,” Nikolai said. “But you didn’t need to blow yourself up too.” His smile was tight.
“You didn’t lose your leg,” I said, raising a brow.
Nikolai made a show of placing his full weight on it as he walked over to the table. Rheih muttered under her breath, but Nikolai still managed his usual saunter.
“The splint is just temporary. Rheih managed to patch me up. Though not as well as you it seems.” His eyes raked over my body. I noticed that I was sitting straight and without an ounce of pain.
“It’s not me. She was healing before I even touched her,” Rheih said, taking a sip from her own mug.
“I waswhat?” I echoed, my mouth hanging open. I would have to thank Riven for getting me here in time, but this woman was obviously mad.
“Healing,” she repeated, taking another sip. “Anyone else would have died from your injuries well before you reached me.”
“That’s ridiculous. Only Fae have healing magic,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. I looked at Nikolai for support, but he was studying me like I was one of his inventions.
Rheih shrugged, pouring more tea. “And yet here you are. Alive.”
Syrra walked into the room and took a seat next to Nikolai. He whispered to her in Elvish, catching her up on Rheih’s fantastical claims.
I crossed my arms. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“No, I’m calling youValitherian,” she said, placing her mug on the table.
Syrra gasped. My head snapped back at her wide eyes. They trailed my entire body like she was seeing me for the first time. “Valitherian,” she whispered. “Of course.”
I held my arms out in front of me. “I don’t speak Old Elvish,” I reminded them.
“It meansthe gifted ones,” Syrra explained, her eyes unfocused as if unlocking a far back memory. “In the early days of the Mortals’ arrival, there were children born of Fae and Halflings. It was rare, but they did exist. Sometimes the children would be born with a touch of magic. For most, it was immortality despite their Mortal lineage. For a few it was communicating with non-speaking beings, predicting the weather, or...”
“Healing?” I finished for her.
“I thought as much as soon as she opened her eyes,” Rheih said to Syrra. Syrra’s lips twitched as she nodded in agreement.
“My eyes?” I asked. Just then Riven entered the room, he raised a brow at Rheih, having heard everything she said. The woman shrugged, and Riven turned his gaze on me. His eyes were soft as he noticed the fading red marks on my face and neck, but his jaw was tense.
He took a deep breath and addressed my question. “Has no one ever mentioned the coloring of your eyes?”
I rubbed my brow. “Some make comments on it. They’re a strange color. I’ve never seen anyone with eyes like mine.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Rheih said into her mug.
I cut the woman a look but Riven continued. “No one has seen eyes like yours in a millennium. Just as violet eyes mark the Dark Fae, silver eyes mark the Light Fae.”
His words clanged against my skull, too hard to understand his meaning at first.
“But the Light Fae had eyes of gold?” I thought aloud, biting my lip. Stories of the Fae were told all over the kingdom. The cruel violet eyes of the Dark Fae and the piercing gold of the Light.
Rheih shook her head, but Syrra was the one who answered. Her back straightened as her fingers pressed flat against the tabletop. “There have only been three Fae with golden eyes, child,” Syrra said calmly, her eyes shifting to Riven. “And they all died well before the Light Fae disappeared.”
I swallowed her words, my mind flooding with questions. My throat tightened as I looked down at my hands. Amber blood coursed through my veins. There was no doubt I was a Halfling, but could I be part Fae?
“The last of the Light Fae died out a thousand years ago,” I said, still staring at my hands and the secrets my amber blood kept, even from me.
