Greven silently acknowledged Piven’s grasp of situations. His cunning and agile mind had already thought through every scenario that could threaten him, it seemed. ‘Which makes her vulnerable.’
‘Exactly. I’m hoping to meet her long before she has that protection.’
‘So you plan to kill your siblings and the emperor?’
‘And all who support either. A Valisar will sit the Penraven throne again. I will make my father proud.’
‘Are you sure of that?’
Piven laughed. ‘Well, we’ll never know but I like to think so. My father was ruthless, Greven. You need to understand this fact. He adored his sons but he could still make some very hard decisions — he was able to leave Leo as a nemesis for Loethar and was comfortable leaving me to whatever fate dished up. He didn’t get much of a chance to love his daughter but he loved her enough to get her away so that she could offer up a challenge in the future. You see, everything for my father was about the Valisar name and duty. He was a good man, there’s no denying it, but in truth he was more ruthless than even Loethar.’
‘Whatever makes you say that?’ Greven asked, astonished.
‘Because if my father had been in Loethar’s shoes, he would not have hesitated to have killed me. He would not have taken a chance on letting any child associated with the throne live, whether it were an invalid or adopted or both. Loethar showed mercy — and now he will pay the price for his tenderness.’
‘Tenderness? You are jesting, aren’t you? The man has killed more Denovians than I care to think about.’
‘He killed his enemies, Greven; that’s very normal for a conquering ruler. But if you scrutinise what he did, he didn’t kill randomly. He killed opposing soldiers, and his only real targets were the royal families. He wanted no challengers. If people submitted, he did not punish or humiliate them. He didn’t even segregate them … unless they were Vested. If anything, Loethar has been a pioneer. He has not only unified the realms and their people into one cohesive empire but he has unified two diverse cultures and succeeded rather well at it. He’s actually far more impressive than my father.’
‘You shock me.’
‘Good. I’d hate to be predictable. Come on, I’m famished. I’m hoping there’s a village ahead because I’ve tired mightily of your stale bread and dry fruit.’
Greven paid no attention to his complaints. His mind had already begun to race as to how he could find and get a message to the Valisar girl.
A cold air bit at Evie’s cheeks. She heard birdsong, the rustle of leaves and the sounds of what was probably a stream, she realised. And then she heard Reg’s voice. ‘Take it slowly. Here, drink this,’ he urged gently.
Evie struggled to sit up, squinting open her eyes. ‘Reg?’
‘Hush, just drink.’
‘Is this more of your spiked —’
‘No. It is the cleanest, most beautiful water you’ve ever tasted. Trust me.’
She gave him a mirthless smile. ‘I’ve fallen for your trust me line before.’ She sipped and did indeed taste the sweetest of waters, chilled enough to make her gasp. ‘Are we alive?’
‘Very much so.’
She coughed once, blinked hard and forced herself to open her eyes fully. ‘And this isn’t a dream?’
He shook his head. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Confused. Bruised.’
‘I wasn’t trying to kill you.’
‘That’s not how it appeared.’
Reg sighed. Evie looked up to buy herself some time to think clearly. ‘What is this tree?’
He sighed again. ‘If you knew your trees,’ he said, with a tiny hint of admonishment in his tone, ‘you would probably know this as a wych elder. Here, they are known as wychwoods.’
‘Here?’ she said, looking around, noticing the stream she’d heard not very far away and mountains in the distance behind. ‘Where exactly is here, Reg?’
He sat down opposite her and she was surprised to note that the haunted expression her friend had always possessed — the one which seemed to speak so loudly to others that he should be left alone — was gone. In fact, Reg looked almost relaxed for the first time since she’d met him.
‘Here, Evie, is a place that was once known as the Denova Set. I have no idea if it still possesses that title. But if I’m not mistaken, I think this particular spot where we sit is at the base of a place called Lo’s Teeth, which is east of Gormond, west of Droste, south of Cremond, north of Dregon.’ His smile widened mischievously. ‘Does that help?’
She shook her head. ‘You’re making fun of me. Have you any idea how it feels to be me right now, wondering what the hell has just happened?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said sheepishly. ‘I haven’t lied to you. The place I have described is where I believe we are. This is woodland known as Whirlow and that stream, which has a name that I can’t remember right now, runs into Lake Aran, to the south.’
Evie was astonished to see moisture gather in his eyes. ‘Reg, are those tears?’ she asked. ‘I’ve never even seen you get misty.’
He wiped his cheeks. ‘It is good to be home, Evie. Are you hurt?’
‘I don’t believe so. But I don’t understand why not. Mind you, that query pales by comparison to my lack of understanding as to how we’re both not splattered across the pavement outside a city hospital right now. We leapt from a dozen storeys high!’
He allowed her anger to pass, looking down, saying nothing.
Evie gave a sound like a growl. ‘I need an explanation, Reg, or I am going to explode or kill you … make a choice.’
He didn’t smile. ‘Will you stay still and silent while I tell you everything that I can?’
‘Why does that sound as though I should leap up now and run screaming from you?’
He nodded. ‘You’re right — what I have to tell you is frightening. But you need to hear it and you need to hear it all, or nothing will make sense to you. I need your promise that you will listen until I’ve told you the whole story.’
Evie licked her lips. ‘You’d better start at page one!’
‘Indeed. I suppose the beginning is my name, which is not Reg. My name is Corbel.’
‘Corbel?’ she repeated, feeling anger starting to suffuse her confusion. ‘Not at all Reg-like!’
‘My father was Regor de Vis. I borrowed from his name.’
‘How convenient for —’
‘Be quiet. My father probably didn’t survive the rage of a man called Loethar, who hailed himself the king of the barbarian horde. He came from the east.’ Evie saw the pain on his face as he pointed. ‘The barbarians were from the plains, an area known as the Likurian Steppes. Loethar was a tyrant who murdered all in his wake. From what I could gather before I left, he was killing all the royals of the Set — that was a group of independent realms with common interests — and I suspect he left my king to the last. My father was the king’s right-hand man.’
‘What does that make you?’ she said, working hard to keep all sarcasm from her tone, knowing she needed to humour her friend. She could tell that, delusion or not, this story was incredibly hard for him to speak of.
‘It makes me the son