The Crow King's Wife (The Elder Blood Chronicles #5)(120)
“If you try to kill me Seth will stop you.” Zoelyn snapped though she couldn’t say why she spoke the words. Grim wasn’t trying to threaten her. He was warning her to never let her guard slip and she knew he was offering a kindness in his own way. He could have just as easily kept his silence and waited for her to grow careless without bothering to speak with her at all.
“And when Seth appears before me next Ryvenken will greet him personally.” Grim returned with a sad smile. “If I thought for a moment that Neph intentionally created you as you are I would kill him tonight, but I think it was an unfortunate mistake in his desperation to bring his sister back. I am trying to respect the love that he must feel for you to go to such drastic measures, but it is difficult for me knowing you will suffer for his sins. I will pray for you Zoey and I hope you can maintain control of yourself for years to come, but consider what I have said tonight and ask yourself how many should be forced to give up their lives so that you can continue to exist. For now it is the slaying of foes, but once the world is at peace it will be murder. How long can you live with that knowledge and truly be happy?”
Zoelyn watched in silence as Grim turned back toward the city then stared numbly down at the pile of death in her lap. Each stone represented someone Seth had killed to sate her and despite that knowledge she couldn’t keep herself from pulling a stone from the bag and clenching it tightly in her hand. Warmth flooded through her as ecstasy and disgust warred in her mind. She knew deep in her heart she couldn’t live with the knowledge of murder for long, but she couldn’t resist the temptation the stones held either. Anything to silence the ever present hunger was a blessing, and for now at least she had enough stones to sate her curse if she conserved them. Perhaps given enough time she could find another way to sate the hunger, but for now she chose to simply consider Seth’s gift as the spoils of war.
Chapter 17
Sanctuary
The air around him hummed with the familiar voices and smells of his city, yet Shade couldn’t bring himself to bother with any of it. The faint yells of vendors hawking their wares drifted up to his perch on the second floor balcony of what had once been the Copper Penny Inn, but they were so far from his thoughts that he couldn’t even focus on what they were selling.
His eyes were locked on the black gem lying on the rough wooden floor before him and he couldn’t pull his gaze away. It was barely bigger than a hen’s egg with bright shining faucets covering its entire surface and looked so perfectly harmless. Another man might confuse it as something valuable, which Shade himself had in fact done the morning he had awoken to find it resting on the table beside him. Then he had examined it and realized what it was, a memory stone.
He wasn’t sure who had left it for him, but he knew the memories inside too well to cast it aside. His entire life rested inside the harmless looking stone with bitter truths hidden in every faucet. Every failure and every success he had ever experienced in his life was resting on the floor before him with painstaking details on how he had been used or tricked into playing puppet for his family. No matter what choice he had made with his life it all boiled down to one simple fact. Myth had been manipulating him and he had been too blind and stupid to see it until someone hand delivered the proof to him in the form of a gem.
He had come to Sanctuary with every intention of rescuing Charm and facing Myth, but his ambitions had faded the moment he had touched the gem. It had been delivered to him on the first day and now four days later he still hadn’t bothered to search the prison for Charm. There were three reasons for his hesitation, but he couldn’t say for sure which was motivating his procrastination the most. The first reason was the realization that Charm was bait for him. The second was the simple fact that after viewing the gem he honestly didn’t think he could get inside the prison and out again without Myth catching him. The third and final reason was the last faucet of the gem. It hadn’t contained a memory, only a message for him. Wait until the council to move. It is the only chance you have to succeed. Myth will be occupied that night. He knew the message itself might be a trap, but combined with the other two reasons he found himself ignoring the potential danger and biding his time in a rotting Inn.
So he sat listlessly with a bottle of cheap wine, half a dozen cigarettes, and enough memories to haunt him for weeks waiting for either his chance to move, or Myth to find him, whichever happened first.
He pushed idly at the gem and took another swig from his bottle. It was bitter stuff, but it was cheap, and spending large coins drew attention that he didn’t need. With a sigh Shade dropped the bottle carelessly down beside him and drew one of his remaining cigarettes from his case. A fresh noise drew his attention as he lit the cigarette and took a long drag. Cocking his head toward the inn door Shade heightened his hearing and listened carefully as the thud of boots grew louder. Someone was climbing the stairs toward him. He calmly pushed away the impulse to jump to his feet and settled back against the railing instead. The footsteps grew closer as he folded his knees before him and picked his bottle up once more.
If it was Myth there was no real point to attempting to fight. He knew that much from what he had seen in the gem. If it wasn’t Myth and simply someone searching for a place to rest it was probably best if he didn’t greet them with a drawn dagger.
The door of the balcony shifted slightly and Shade watched in bitter amusement as the dark clad figure of a Priest of Fear stepped from the shadows of the inn. He wore the traditional ankle length black coat with tiny silver skulls embroidered down the sleeves and spiked pauldrons that covered his shoulders. His features were all but obscured by the deep cowl that was pulled low over his face, but even so Shade recognized Grim easily, though he wasn’t fool enough to believe it was truly Grim. He had never seen Grim bother with such formal dress aside from the Marshall’s uniform he had worn to Merro, and Shade was fairly certain that had been for Valor’s benefit.