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Riven understood her hands as easily as he could read words on a page or hear me speak.
“They used the orb to communicate,” I whispered in awe. The Elverin kept on surprising me in all the ways that they had used their magic to help their people. And that was only the magic that still survived. My skin tingled in anticipation at what might be done if we successfully unlocked those seals.
But then my gaze settled on the empty households. Hundreds and hundreds of them sat vacant in the ghost of a city. “Everyone who lived here was deaf.”
Syrra shook her head. “Not all, but most. Some of their children were born able to hear but longed for nothing but the comforts of home.”
I paused, not sure I wanted the answer to this question. “What happened to them?”
A shadow swirled along Riven’s brow. “Themiikibiis not only connected to the pools of Vellinth, but all the water in Elverath. And the pool beneath it”—Riven pointed to the large teal pond rippling along the ground—“is connected to every portal. It is one of a kind, but it also meant that when the Blood Purges began the Elverin of Vellinth were the first to receive the call. And they always answered.”
Syrra crossed her open palm over her eyes and then her chest. “They suffered the most losses of anyone. Entire bloodlines gone in a matter of days. The only survivor was their Elder who was too old to fight.”
My stomach twisted into knots. “Darythir.”
Syrra nodded glumly. “She is not the most pleasing of our kind, but she has lost more than any other.”
“But why leave it empty?”
Syrra shrugged. “At first I suppose it was too painful for anyone to return. Then by the time anyone considered it, they already had built their nests somewhere else in theFaelinth.”
I sighed and looked down at the large pool with new reverence for the memories that still echoed here. “Do you think it’s possible to reclaim everything they took from us?”
Syrra stilled. “No. Some stories and names are lost to us forever.” I hung my head against my shoulder and Syrra grabbed my hand. “But a new forest can always grow where an old one burned. And the ground remembers the roots even if the trees do not.”
I furrowed my brow at her riddle-like answer. “I think you’ve been spending too much time with Maerhal.”
Syrra threw back her head in a hearty laugh.
Riven wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “Would you like to rest here tonight and journey back on the morrow?”
I shook my head. “We’ve been gone long enough. I want to see the Shades.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
WE MADE IT BACKto the Faeland by daybreak. My bones still chattered from the hours we had to spend waiting in the snowy hills of Volcar for the suns to rise and the portal to redirect to the Dark Wood. From there it was a short ride to Myrelinth that we spent in silence.
Riven rode behind me, his shadows stroking my back endlessly to keep me steady on my horse while the fatigue crept over my body. When we reached the stables, he was there to help me dismount, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“Do you want to try to sleep?” He pulled out a vial of the clear liquid that would keep the dreams at bay.
I shook my head. “Not until I see the Shades. I don’t want them to think I abandoned them.”
Riven tugged the end of my braid and nodded. He bent down and pressed a hand to one of the roots along the stable doors and his brow flickered. “They’re in the hall,” he whispered with an uncertain air to his voice.
“The Shades?”
He nodded. “And a few others. But it feels … chaotic.”
That was all I needed to know. I bolted down the nearest twisting steps of the Myram and pulled out my dagger, ready for whatever was waiting for us below. I skittered to a stop when I saw that the main hall had been transformed into a giant dressing room. Tall looking glasses were scattered about with small podiums in front of each one. In between them were roots that had been pulled up from the earth and used as long poles to hang clothes of every size and color.
A group of young initiates raced passed me and started pulling at long dresses made of rich silks. They giggled as they stuck their heads through the hangers and twirled in circles without even putting the dresses on.
Nikolai waved at me with a pin sticking from his mouth. His short curls were pulled back into a clip to keep them from falling in front of his face as he marked the hem of Fyrel’s new robe. It was a vibrant green shade with yellow stitching along the hem and sleeves. She beamed at me in the mirror, her hands grazing over the soft length of her new clothes. Nikolai had pinned the hem to just above her ankles so her new boots were visible. “I’ve never worn a color before.”
My heart burst as I saw the same joy on the faces of the other Shades.
Nikolai stood, tucking the pin in his mouth into the pad tied along his wrist. “This shade of green is not worn well by many.” He tapped Fyrel’s nose and winked. “That is something you and I have in common.”
