“Isolde,” Adrian began, and there was a spark of hurt and frustration in his eyes.
“Don’t say my name,” I said, closing my eyes against the sound of it, the way it burrowed under my skin. “Just…tell me the truth.”
He stepped closer. “You want truth?” he said. “Ravena may be building an army to come after me, but her target is you.”
“What?”
“Your father told you to find my weakness,” he said, a lithe finger twining around a piece of my hair. My eyes widened at his words—words that had been spoken only between me and my father. He smiled at my reaction, and it was wicked. “Little did he know…it is you.”
Fifteen
I was not surprised when Adrian did not visit my bed for the second night in a row. I spent most of the evening turning his words over and over.
Ravena might be building an army to come after me, but her target is you.
I did not like admitting to fear, but those words had an effect on me, and I wanted to know more about Dragos’s witch. Why, after all this time, was this woman coming out of hiding to create an army, and did it really have anything to do with me?
Your father told you to find my weakness. Little did he know…it is you.
How was I Adrian’s weakness? He had known me for days, and yet even I could not explain our connection. Sometimes, it was like our bodies knew each other and our minds hadn’t caught up, and I was left reeling in the aftermath.
The night continued like that until I rose the next morning, exhausted with a headache. It was made worse as I headed into Cel Ceredi with Violeta and Vesna, while Isac and Miha followed behind. Vesna had broken out into song. I did not recognize the lyrics, but they were fun, and the beat was a steady thrum.
And when the snow falls on the ground,
I’ll come, my love, I’ll come on down.
Down from the mountains and into the town,
The town where our love was found.
At first, it was a contained affair, with Miha singing along and Isac clapping, but as we reached the village, others joined in, and Vesna became the center of attention as she skipped and clapped and sang. When she finished, it was to a round of applause.
I liked seeing her smile, and I hoped she would grow happier the longer she stayed. I imagined relocating her mother and sisters here to Cel Ceredi would help, though I had yet to hear confirmation of the move from Adrian.
“You have a lovely voice, Vesna,” Miha said as the girl fell into step beside me and Violeta.
“Thank you,” she said, blushing, and then sighed. “Cel Ceredi is so much nicer than Jovea.”
I wonder if she meant the people or our surroundings. I liked the uniqueness of the village, to be sure. Parts of the town were far older than others. I could tell because the homes and shops were all constructed differently—some had pine walls and clay roofs, others were made of woven twigs with thatched roofs, others were covered in plaster. We walked along a cobble road, past carts of vegetables, fresh meat, linen, and wool while the smell of roasted pork and mutton, evergreen and tobacco permeated the air. They were scents that also reminded me of winter in Lara, which carried a nostalgia that suddenly made me homesick.
Despite this, the markets here were far less exciting than those in Lara. Perhaps it was because Lara’s market came once a month while Cel Ceredi’s was weekly, but the villagers always used it as an excuse to celebrate. Jugglers and dancers would entertain while other shop owners would host games and contests. It was festive, colorful, and fun, but here, there was a strange melancholy in the air that I did not understand until I spotted several people stacking wood into perfect squares.
“Are those…pyres?” I asked, the thought making me uneasy.
“Yes,” Violeta replied. “We are a week out from the Burning Rites.”
“The…Burning Rites?”
“It is the anniversary of the night High Coven was executed. King Adrian orders every village to burn bright for a week to memorialize their deaths. The fires begin tonight, and there are events every night. The most anticipated is the Great Hunt.”
“What is the Great Hunt?”
“Exactly what it sounds like,” she said. “It is the night we hunt monsters.”
“What is the purpose?”
Many of us did not hunt monsters by choice, it was necessity, survival, though I supposed vampires were different.
She shrugged. “It is a sport,” she said. “And there is a prize.”
“What is the prize?” I asked.