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I frowned. “I was never considering throwing you overboard.”
Elaran broke into a smug sideways grin. “Then you do not know what I am capable of.”
“Is that a threat?” I raised a brow.
Two flashes of silver spun through the air. I turned to see Gerarda’s knives embedded into the wall, piercing my cloak between them.
“Enough chat.” Gerarda folded her arms. “El isn’t a threat, she just likes to be in charge.”
Elaran flipped a pile of curls to the side of her head. “True.”
“And Keera”—Gerarda turned to me—“is not going to throw anyone overboard. Forget the theatrics and ask whatever questions that will get me out of here.”
“Fine.” I leaned on the edge of the desk and locked eyes with Elaran. “You are wearing the clothes of a Shade, but they’re fitted for someone much shorter.” I glanced at Gerarda whose cheeks flushed. “And until you made yourself known in Cereliath, I had never seen your face. You certainly didn’t train at the Order with the rest of us. So if not a Shade, who are you?”
Elaran pulled something from her pocket and placed it in my palm. I turned to Gerarda. “This is just like the arrow you gave Syrra when we got to Myrelinth.”
Gerarda shrugged. “I tried to explain it to you. You didn’t listen.”
“I’m listening now.”
Elaran scooped up the arrow and tossed it into the air. “I was never formally trained as a Shade, but I was trained by Hildegard. She was the last leader of the Guild.”
“The Guild?” I crossed my arms. “She never mentioned this to me.”
“She wouldn’t dare.” Elaran shrugged. “You were watched from the moment they pulled you from that Rift. A member of the Guild needs to be a ghost. They need to not exist.”
I stared at the piece of gold in her hand. “To what end?”
Elaran waved her hand. “To whatever end was needed. Thieves sent to raid someone’s bedchamber. Chefs ordered to poison a lordor two. A wife sent to spy on her husband.” Elaran’s voice turned hard and Gerarda squeezed her hand.
“When Aemon first reached these shores,” Gerarda continued for her, “he came with a small group of men. He told them that they were traveling to a land only his family knew existed. A land where the people lived forever, where they never aged and never died because of the fruit they ate. He convinced them to make the journey in search of everlasting youth.”
I scoffed. “But Aemon was a Halfling. He knew a Mortal could not eat himself to immortality.”
Neither of them seemed shocked by this information.
“It was a ruse,” Gerarda agreed. “But one that took some time for those men to uncover. They spent years, decades believing Aemon’s lies, and in that time they built temples and preached their mission to all the other Mortals Aemon brought to these shores.” There was something bitter in Gerarda’s words, her dark eyes were glazed like she was living through a memory rather than sitting in this room.
“Those men built lives in Elverath. They befriended the Elverin and took wives of their own. All while eating the food and believing that they would live forever. Just as Aemon had told them. But eventually they noticed that while their hair grayed and their backs weakened, Aemon held onto his youth. Knowing they would only hear more lies, they plotted to find the truth. And when they did, they turned to the only one they thought had a chance at stopping him.”
I shook my head. Gerarda couldn’t mean—
“My mother?”
Elaran’s eyes widened. Her hand in Gerarda’s hair stilled.
Gerarda nodded. “These men had become a part of the Elverin. They had children and some had grandchildren by the time Aemon started vying for control. After the first of the Blood Purges,they told El’ravaasir what Aemon had done. All but one died on the battlefield.”
I eased back on the desk. “And he formed the Guild?”
“Yes. El’ravaasir had told him that there would come a time when Aemon’s age would begin to show. That someone with the power to kill him would emerge and his followers would have to do everything they could to help her.”
Elaran crossed her leg over her knee and raised her brow at me. I raised my brow back. “So you were married off to Curringham to protect me?”
Gerarda’s jaw clamped shut.
“In a sense,” Elaran said, twisting some of Gerarda’s hair between her fingers. “Hildegard was suspicious of Damien for years, particularly his need to insult my late husband in front of his father yet spoil him with riches at his parties. She couldn’t send a Shade to spy on him without Damien finding out about it.”
