The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,62

Rafe watching us, not with curiosity like everyone else, but with dark scrutiny. Kaden’s shoulder brushed up against mine, and I stepped away, creating some distance between us.

Eben’s attention shot to Rafe, and he eyed him suspiciously. He had only known Rafe as Dalbreck’s emissary, and I realized he probably still didn’t know Rafe’s true position here. His gaze shifted to Jeb, once a filthy Vendan patty clapper, hardly recognizable now with his neatly combed hair and pristine clothing. Next he looked at Sven, the one-time governor of Arleston, who now wore a high-ranking officer’s uniform, and then Orrin, the governor’s mute guard, also in Dalbreck uniform, drinking from a crystal goblet.

Orrin grinned. “Surprise,” he said lifting his glass toward Eben.

I made introductions.

“Fikatande chimentras,” Eben said under his breath.

I looked at Rafe, wondering just how many of the choice Vendan words he knew.

“Yes, we’re liars,” Rafe said, answering my question. He leaned forward, aiming a frigid stare at Eben. “We lied to save the princess’s life. Do you object to that?”

Eben’s chin lifted, defiant, but then he shook his head.

Rafe sat back in his chair. “Good. Now, someone bring the boy some food. We have talking to do.”

Colonel Bodeen suggested it was a good time for the officers and their wives to retire for the evening. They all left except for Captain Hague.

It was more like an interrogation than talking. Rafe, Kaden, Griz, Tavish, Sven, and I all took turns asking questions as Eben wolfed down food.

He had barely escaped with his life. He had been in the far eastern paddock with Spirit when they came for him. His voice wobbled when he mentioned the name of the young foal that he had to leave behind. He was oblivious to what had happened back on the Sanctum terrace, but he saw Trahern, Iver, and Syrus—one of the tower guards—kill a paddy clapper without a word. He knew something was wrong, and when they caught sight of him, he knew he was next. He ran, hiding in stalls, barns, between stacks of hay, wherever he could as they chased him down. Finally Syrus cornered him in a loft. Eben killed him with a pitchfork in his chest. He spent the rest of the day moving from one hiding place to the next, finally ending up in an abandoned room in the South Tower, where he was trapped for two days. That was where he pieced together what had happened. Because of his close association with Griz, he had been targeted. Anyone who was known to have been intimately speaking with the princess, Griz, Kaden, or Faiwel was suspected as a traitor and systematically hunted down. He heard the screams of the slaughtered. He closed his eyes, and I thought he might not open them again. When he did, his lids were heavy and his eyes swam in his head. It wasn’t terror but exhaustion undoing him. His head lolled briefly to the side. With a full stomach, he was barely able to stay conscious.

“Where did you stay in the South Tower?” Kaden asked.

“Right below the Komizar’s room. I could hear almost everything through the flue.”

“Do you know who he sent to hunt us down?” I asked.

Eben rattled off the names of everyone sent after us. He saw them leave from his hiding place. We had killed everyone he mentioned back in the Valley of the Giants—except for one who hadn’t been among our attackers. Malich. Which meant he was still out there somewhere.

“Eben,” I asked, before I lost him completely, “is the Komizar ruling now?”

Eben looked at me, fear briefly pushing aside the stupor in his eyes. He nodded as if too afraid to speak the Komizar’s name. “The ghouls down in the caverns took care of him with their own potions. He’s different now. He wants us all dead, and I’m the only one who didn’t do anything.”

“Except slash one of my men,” Rafe said. “What am I going to do about that?”

“It was only a scratch on his arm,” Eben chided. “Probably won’t even need a stitch. He shouldn’t have gotten in my way.”

Rafe looked across the room at the guard who had brought in Eben. The guard nodded confirmation, and Rafe turned back to Eben, this time with a sterner gaze. “And where do your loyalties lie now, Eben?” he asked.

“Not with your kind,” he answered, a snarl lifting his lip, but then his head bowed and he whispered, with all the misery and confusion the world could