Page 231 of Of Empires and Dust
“You lied to me… All that time, you looked me in the eyes and you lied to me. And I let you worm your way into my head. What was it you said? ‘When you’re near, I don’t feel so fucking broken’? Well, you are fucking broken! You’re a monster. There is something evil in your heart, something dark and empty.”
The wolf broke free from Ella’s hold, but the anger that burned through her was a cold one. A sharp, icy, calm fury. She settled her breathing, then lowered to one knee before Farda.
The man stared into Faenir’s eyes, unblinking.
“Don’t look at him.” Ella leaned closer. “Look at me.”
Farda stared at Faenir a second longer, then turned his gaze to Ella, and she felt those deep green eyes pierce her soul.
“You killed my mam.”
“I did. And for the little it’s worth, I am sorry.”
“I didn’t ask you to speak.” Ella grabbed Farda by the throat, slamming his head against the wall, her fingers tightening. He didn’t fight her or push her away or beg her to stop. She clenched her jaw as she squeezed tighter. “You burned her alive. Burned the flesh from her bones. Did you feel anything as she screamed? Can that black heart feel at all? She was the kindest woman I ever knew. Everything she did, she did for others. She was a healer, did you know that? Of course you fucking didn’t. When I was little, she would put me on her back and carry me everywhere, show me everything she did, and talk to me like I was a woman grown. When I was sick, she would sit by my bedside with cups of tea and bowls of soup and stew, holding a damp cloth to my head. She was the greatest mother anyoneever had.” Ella loosened her grip on Farda’s throat, not much, but just enough to allow him to breathe. She lowered her voice to a whisper, Faenir’s growl matching it. “And you took her from me.”
The wolf within her begged for Farda’s blood, begged to feel his still-beating heart in its jaws.
Ella growled and released Farda’s throat, turning away and rising. “Is there anything else? Any other lies you’ve held? Any other people you’ve slaughtered?”
“I sent the men.”
“You what?” Ella turned back and looked to Farda, who stared into her eyes. For the first time since she’d entered the room, Ella smelled fear wafting from the man.
“I sent the men who found you on the merchant’s road to Gisa. I didn’t just cross your path in the city. I sent soldiers to track you down.”
“You…” Ella’s heart skipped a beat, and her lungs struggled to drag in air. “You sent…” Her mind replayed the memories of that day. The memories of Rhett holding his hands to his belly. The feeling of Rhett’s thumb brushing her cheek. The blood. Her own screams resounded in her mind. “You killed him, too?”
Ella didn’t roar or howl. She didn’t cry, didn’t tremble or shake. She just stood there. The calm that swept over her was something numb and devoid of all feeling. “You took everything from me…” It was a simple statement of fact. “You… took everything.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Do you think that word holds any meaning on your lips? Your ‘sorry’ is worth less than a dead man’s promise. You are darkness. You are every evil deed done in this world. And you want me to forgive you? To grant you redemption?”
“I seek no such thing,” Farda said plainly. He rose slowly, Faenir snarling in his face. “Some are beyond redemption, and Icount myself in that number. You’re right. I am darkness. I am a monster, and I know what I’ve become. I ask you no forgiveness, for I am not, nor will I ever be, deserving of it. I just wish you to know that I regret what I did.”
Faenir shifted so he stood at Ella’s side, teeth bared, saliva dripping.
“What would your precious Shinyara think of you now, Farda? What would she think of the man who slaughters innocent women, the man who has spent hundreds of years butchering and murdering in the name of a monster?” Ella’s hands shook at her side, claws extended. “If I have my say, you will die slowly over many years, cold and alone. You will pray to your god for death, but it will not come. There is no pain that could be enough, no agony fitting. And so I would do the only thing I know could harm you. I would keep you from death, keep you from the only thing you love in this world. Just as you have taken so much of what I love from me.”
Farda swallowed, and Ella thought she saw pain in his eyes.
Good. He deserves pain.
Ella walked from the room without saying another word. She stormed past Gaeleron, back along the corridor, and out into the Eyrie, through the passageway adorned with dragon statues, along the paths of Alura, and made her way up to the high plateau upon which eight houses of white bone stood.
Several Fenryr Angan prowled the plateau, along with men and women bearing Calen’s sigil, standing guard with sharp steel in their hands.
The Angan all bowed to Ella and Faenir as they walked, and she inclined her head in return but didn’t speak.
When she finally reached the white home backed against the cliff wall, the one in which she slept each night – the one that would never be home – and opened the door, a plethora of scents and sounds washed over her.
Fresh baked bread, seared venison, roasted potatoes and rosemary, garlic, tomatoes, onions. She could smell each aroma, each piece of a whole, the wolf picking between them. And amidst it all, the fresh and sharp scent of lavender brought itself to the fore. Pots clanged, and something boiled, popping and bubbling. The roar of the hearth fire soothed her, the warmth brushing her skin.
“Are you just going to stand there, my dear?” Elia popped up from behind the central counter, a massive pot in one hand. She removed the pot’s lid, and the pungent earthy aroma of freshly diced Arlen Root pierced the other scents. Even after what Fenryr had said, Elia had continued to bring Ella Arlen Root tea every morning, noon, and night, no matter how many times she refused. Ella had given up trying to explain to the woman after her sixth attempt. Something within Elia was broken. Whatever had been done to her in the dungeons below Berona was beyond comprehension. Lasch was better. He seemed weaker than before, smaller somehow, but his mind was still there, and he still had the same heart.
“Well, come in.” Elia beckoned her forwards. “And close the door behind you. You’re letting the heat out.”
Ella did as instructed, ushering Faenir past her. She stood in the middle of the room, just watching as Elia stirred a pot by the fire and wafted the steam towards her nose.
