Bound by Blood and Sand
Page 43

And his father had lied about the earthquake. If Elan hadn’t seen the truth with his own eyes, he’d have believed everything his father had said. He understood why his father had done it—keeping order was vital—but it had seemed to come to his father so easily. He’d been so convincing. Jae had said the Highest were all liars, and his father was. For the greater good, yes, but…
Cursing the Closest had been for the greater good, too, and Jae believed the Highest had lied about that. And the War, and the Well, and everything else. For just a moment, with his father losing control and lying so easily, Elan thought maybe she was right.
But that was impossible.
“See that you don’t forget,” Elthis snarled at Jae, and Elan forced himself to push those impossible thoughts aside as much as he could.
He swallowed, his throat as dry as the air outside, despite the mug of water he’d just downed. Still, he forced himself to try to ease the tension in the room. “Father, that wasn’t…that won’t be…it won’t be necessary.”
His father fixed a knife-edge glare on him. “Saving the peace is necessary. No Closest’s life is worth more than that. And you will not question me.”
Elan’s protest died in his throat. He didn’t know what else he’d have said, anyway. Jae knew a secret that his father wanted kept. She was a threat—to Elthis, to all of the Highest, to the order and peace they protected. Neither her life nor Tal’s meant anything to Elthis, compared to that.
“You said you will use the Well to save Aredann—and that means you think you can control the Well,” Elthis said to Jae. “And I know my son was planning to use your magic to find it in the desert. Can you do that?”
Jae nodded, not looking up or meeting his gaze.
“Good. Then you will. Accompanied by Elan and several of my guards,” Elthis continued. He glanced at Elan, who didn’t meet his gaze, either. Yes, he’d wanted Jae to help him find the Well. But not like this.
“Aredann must still be abandoned—too much has happened here. I will return to Danardae with your brother.” He turned his attention back to Jae. “And I’ll expect you all to return with the Well’s location, and a way to control it, within six months. If you don’t come back, your brother’s life is forfeit. Do you understand?”
Jae nodded stiltedly, her jaw trembling. But across the table, Shirrad gasped.
It took Elan a moment, and then he understood what his father had said, too. Jae was to return with a way to control the Well—which meant Elthis didn’t have that. And if he had no control over the Well, then…then Jae had been telling the truth all along.
The Well, the War, the Curse. Everything Elan knew about them, all of it, was a lie. His father commanded such loyalty and fear that he wasn’t afraid of this group knowing. There was no way any of them would speak up, speak out. Tal couldn’t, Desinn and Shirrad would never even think to, and Elan had already learned his lesson once. If he dared question his father ever again, he’d be disavowed. Given the secret he now knew, he might even be killed.
Elan swallowed, sick to his stomach. He said, “Then that’s…that’s settled, and it’s enough for tonight.”
Not that it would matter what Elan said, unless his father agreed. Jae didn’t bother moving until Elthis said, “Indeed. You two may go”—he waved his hand at Jae and Shirrad—“wherever. And you”—to Tal—“will stay with Lord Desinn until you are told otherwise. And that knife—you’ll keep it with you. Just in case.”
Tal nodded too, but since Desinn made no move to leave, he couldn’t, either. Lady Shirrad’s eyes were damp, and she strode out quickly. Jae gave Tal one last look before she fled, and it made Elan ache. He had hoped his father would triumph, bring Jae back under his control somehow, yes, but he’d thought his father and Jae would come to some kind of agreement—that Elan could help them do it.
His father was right. He was a fool. Elthis would never, never agree to anything less than total command and control, and Elan hadn’t wanted to admit that, because he hadn’t wanted to think of what it would do to Jae. Even before she’d freed herself, she’d always been so angry, defiant, but now she looked weak and scared.
It shouldn’t have mattered to Elan at all. None of it should have. But Jae had been fighting for a reason, she’d been right, and he couldn’t stand the sight of her looking so hopeless.
Elan wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to look his father in the eye again, now that he knew the truth. And Aredann…Aredann would still be abandoned, even though Jae had the power to save it. Dozens of Closest would be left to die, just to keep a secret.
Elan found his voice again, against his better judgment. “If you think Jae can control the Well, why not allow her to save Aredann’s Closest?”
His father’s shoulders went stiff, his back straight. He glanced at Desinn. “I’d like to speak with my son in private.”
“Yes, of course, Highest.” Desinn hurried toward the door, and Tal followed him, stiff and awkward, as if he were pulled along by an invisible cord. Elthis shut the door firmly after them and turned back to Elan.
“It is not your place to question me,” he repeated, voice low and angry. “You’ve taken vows of loyalty to me, and you are my son. I will not allow you to undermine me.”
Vows. Elan could only nod dumbly. He’d made vows, and he’d meant them. As his father’s warden—grand warden, because he was from one of the Highest families—Elan held a position of honor and power. That had always meant everything to him. He searched his father’s face for a modicum of mercy or understanding, empathy for the people he’d consigned to death, for Elan for trying to help them. Maybe his father had always been a liar, but it wasn’t as if he’d started all this. Elthis knew the Closest weren’t the traitors everyone believed them to be.
But his father said, “I told the Avowed that the Well’s magic will cause more destruction at Aredann, and I won’t have that questioned. If the girl really can do everything she claims—you claim—then at least this will be the last estate to be abandoned.”
“But…” Elan trailed off. Nothing he could say would change his father’s mind, and he was skirting close to disloyalty. “I’m sorry. It’s just—it’s all so messy. And Tal has never done anything wrong at all.”