Her gaze narrowed. “But… how…”
“After I received the horn, I didn’t know what I was doing with it. I had no idea why it had been given to me. Nadir, one of the traders, came through town, saw what I had. I was chatting with him and happened to mention my questions. Two days later, the Nitesh showed up—”
“The Nitesh?” Aydra interjected. “You’ve met her?”
“Just the once,” he replied. “She took me to Duarb’s roots had me sit in front of her. She channeled him, and suddenly it was he sitting in front of me instead of her. We didn’t have long. He showed each of them to me only twice. I was left to master them on my own.”
“Will you play one for me?” she asked.
He laid back on the log and crossed his legs out in front of him, a long sigh emitting from his lungs. “Who would you like to meet?” he asked, fingers strumming on the ivory.
She thought about it a moment. “Noirdiem,” she finally answered.
A shadow passed over his face. “How do you know about the Diem?”
She smiled at the memory. “They were the first creatures Zoria and I came upon when she took me into the Forest. I remember how elegant and beautiful they were.”
“The Diem rarely show themselves,” Draven said. “If they found the two of you…” His words faded as he stared at her a moment, his fingers strumming on the horn. “All right, Sun Queen—”
“And the Berdijay after,” she interjected.
A brow raised on his face. “No.”
“No?”
Draven swallowed hard, and some of the color faded from his cheeks. “The Berdijay is not to be called upon. He comes when he sees fit.”
“Sounds like you’re afraid, Venari King,” she mocked.
The look on his face did not fade. “Terrified,” he told her.
“I can speak with him,” she countered.
“You do not want to hear anything the Berdijay has to say.”
“Have you ever seen him?”
Draven became quiet as he stared at the flames. She could see his breaths shortening, the haze of a memory flickering in his eyes.
“I was thirteen,” he managed. “Parkyr took me out for training, and he left me there, three days ride from home. I had nothing to defend myself with. I was asleep on my second night, in the canopy. I heard large footsteps, and at first I thought it the Bullhorn. I knew Cees, so the familiarity made me jump down from my spot with glee, happy to see a familiar face. But when I looked down the trail, and I saw nothing more than red eyes staring back at me, I panicked. Whispers filled my ears. The words he spoke in them were the ones I had pushed to the back of my mind. The doubts and fears I’d had growing up as an Infinari, wondering if I would be strong enough to be named a Venari, much less a Venari King.” Draven paused and looked up at Aydra.
“He is shadow and swamp. A giant of rotting melted flesh, burned and braided like hair on his body. He is twenty feet tall and smells of your worst fears. Do you not remember the Spy the other night? The abyss you felt as it tried to consume you?”
She nodded as a chill ran down her spine.
“The Berdijay is much worse. Spyes merely pour their void into you. They rob you of your core and then when you beg for the void, they consume you as water. The Berdijay… He feeds on fear. He will get in your head. He plays riddles, mind games, he manipulates… He makes you see things, all your worst fears brought to the surface. People can be consumed by their fears, driving them mad. There is no guarantee you will make it out alive.”
“I am not afraid of him,” she affirmed.
“You should be.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DRAVEN WAS QUIET when she woke the next morning.
They were surrounded by the fog penetrating through the trees, wrapping itself into the forest floor and roots. He’d already started a fire, and was poking it, gaze staring into it as though he were in deep thought.
She watched him a few moments, noticing the unblinking of his eyes, the trance-like state he sat in. The fire danced on his features and settled in the shadows of his face, illuminating his eyes as his hair swept over to one side away from her.
“Reverie,” she said finally. “I’ve not seen it ever rest so well in someone’s features before.”
His gaze didn’t move from the fire, nor did he act even as though he’d even heard her. She was not accustomed to this side of him, and whatever it was, it made her chest feel heavy.
“Is something wrong?” she asked as she sat up.
“How are your ankles this morning?” he asked without looking at her.
She shifted uncomfortably and moved the blanket off her ankles to look at them. The sting of pain did not alarm her that morning, and the whelps were receding into her skin enough that she was sure she could at least stand on her own some. “Your poison seems to be helping,” she replied. “Even if it is disgusting.”
His eyes finally flickered to her, and he prodded the fire a few more times. “Do you think you’d be up for a longer journey today?”
There was something he was not telling her. It made her nervous, so nervous that she wrapped the blanket tighter over her shoulders. “What are you not telling me?” she asked.
The gaze he gave her confused her. He looked her up and down with a caution and hesitation she wasn’t sure how to take.
“I need you to tell me something,” he said deliberately, meeting her gaze. “And I need you to tell me the truth.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded nonetheless. “Okay.”
“Why do you want to meet the Berdijay?”
The question startled her, and she found herself fumbling with the hem of
