23. Yera

Chapter twenty-three

Yera

A n intricate painting spans the distance between the wall and the ceiling. Hidden in the frame is a small door to the side of the massive room. Dia walks over, bidding me to follow and then pushes on a specific spot, popping the door out of nowhere.

She leads me to a much smaller, intimate room, adorned with a bulky hardwood table with matching chairs. The dark, heavy wood adds weight and warmth to the space. Tapestries line the walls along with enchanted sconces similar to the lamp in my room.

The golden light makes the room feel cozy and inviting. Big decisions could be made here if there were a proper court and kingdom.

Dia palms the backs of each chair as she passes. Her radiant skin favors this light, glowing like a dragon's treasure. She settles at the head of a rectangular table. There is a tapestry of a bloody battle sprawled behind her, making her seem fierce by proximity.

She rests her arms on the polished surface, crossing them. "Let's continue, shall we?"

"Well, what would you like to discuss, exactly?"

"How about you dismantling my entire life's work in a matter of minutes?"

"Not to be rude but—"

"Oh, I think we're well past rude at this point, don't you?" she interrupts, quirking her perfectly groomed eyebrow.

I take a deep breath and move on. "If you had a reliable group of advisors, you would have reached those conclusions earlier. Before any of this nonsense."

She gestures at the door. "I have my harpies and orcs. They are very trusted underlings."

"That's just it, isn't it?" My voice comes out aggravated, but I don't care. This has just become absurd. All I want to do now—the only focus of my reeling thoughts—is finding Arick, but I carry on. "You consider them underlings, not confidants. They don't see you as someone who cares about their well-being. You need to repair that relationship if you want any true loyalty."

"I can see this is going to take a while. Would you like me to send for something—food or drink?" she says, looking truly contemplative at my questions.

I think about that for a moment. I just want Arrick back. Well, shit. I guess I have the resources in this room to do just that. So, I speak up.

"The Vaki, I want him here. I know he's in your lands. Can you bring him to me?"

Her golden skin instantly loses color, and the smile on her face drops to a grimace. "Oh spirits, I forgot about that part of my plan." She stands up, calling out names I don't recognize. Within seconds, the harpies appear. She whispers to all three, and they leave as quickly as they came.

The door closes again, and she has a sheepish grin painted on her face. "I may have forgotten that I removed the guardian spells from the Vaki."

I'm shocked into silence, and I feel my skin go cold.

"I may also have removed the spell that grants the Vaki special abilities to control and live harmoniously with the creatures in the forest." She pauses and plays with a strand of hair nervously. "I can still feel Kalevi's presence, so at least there is that."

The nonchalant way she says that makes the blood in my veins boil.

She hobbled them and then sent the entirety of the Stormlands after them.

Arrick is powerful, but one person can't fend off an entire hoard. The thought of him fighting for my sake has me misty-eyed.

"How far away are they? Can you sense that?"

I try to inject as much venom into my words as possible, but my genuine fear breaks through, cracking my voice and resolve.

"They are close, maybe a day's walk, but my harpies will be there in about half an hour."

Her reptilian gaze meets mine. The harsh lines of her features make it impossible to read her. Is she sympathetic? Is she using us in some way? I don't know. I must trust that this all-powerful snake-daemon goddess is doing the right thing.

Uncertainty threatens to split my head in two. My words had an impact on her, but I'm unsure to what extent.

Leaning back in the heavy chair, I feel defeated. The padded velvet backing on my chair does little to comfort me. The resolve I had just moments ago leaches from my body, exiting with every deep, exasperated exhale.

"I would try to offer comforting words, but that's not anything I've done before, so I wouldn't know how to go about it."

I can't help the small smile that crests the corner of my mouth. Of course, she doesn't know how to comfort, be kind, or be nurturing.

"No, I don't suppose you would," I say, my voice wry, almost teasing. "I guess there is nothing I can do about it until your harpies send word. In the meantime, let's work on how you approach and interact with others, shall we?"