The Valley of Lies (Lightkeepers #1)

Chapter THIRTY: Dev

"Sit."

Rondan pushed Dev into a chair at the center of a long table in an otherwise empty room, keeping a close watch with Calan as Dev rubbed the sensation back into his neck and shoulders. He had never been inside the Council's barracks, but the space looked a lot like the private dining rooms he'd glimpsed in a few of the Lightkeepers' personal villas. Only, this room was twice as big as any of those.

A metal chandelier shaped like a wheel hung from one of the wooden rafters, lit by dozens of candles illuminating his captain's face. Dev had always harbored a healthy dose of fear of the man, but all he could feel in that moment was indignation. The changeling bird claimed Liss was dead, but he didn't believe it. He wouldn't. Not until he saw her for himself. It was an odd change of heart. Despair had nearly bowled him over a few hours ago, when his own mind had conjured a myriad of ways she might have died crossing the rift. But there was something off about the changeling. Dev didn't trust it, and now he wasn't sure he trusted his own people. It turned his stomach to remember how the damned bird had landed beside Rondan in the forest clearing, like they were allies.

And now Rondan was looming over him with a sharp eye, as if he was the threat.

"The Council will be here shortly."

Earlier, Calan had said that Elder Fex wanted to speak with him. That was strange, too. Fex never spoke with juniors, apart from officiating their Sixteenth ceremonies. He rarely spoke to anyone outside the Council. Dev assumed the clan leader met with the Lightkeepers from time to time, at least with Rondan and his seconds, but even that was information most clansfolk weren't privy to.

He crossed his feet under the table and kept his mouth shut, not trusting himself to speak. He didn't know where he stood with the Lightkeepers anymore. No one had said a word to him since the changeling bird gave its cryptic announcement and flew away. He didn't know if Rondan, Calan and the others believed the eerie man-faced creature was telling the truth–that Liss' supposed death was his fault–or if they thought he was hiding her somewhere. Neither scenario cast him in a good light, but he would prefer not to be a murder suspect.

A door at the back of the room opened, pouring moonlight from an unseen window onto the stone floor. The seven members of the Council filed in and filled the remaining chairs around the table, surrounding him.

Goosebumps rippled along Dev's skin. The room wasn't cold, but a draft kissed his face, uncanny in its precision. He knew better, though. There was no magic here, only his own amped up nerves. But he couldn't let his emotions get the better of him. Then he would truly be damned.

Across the table, Elder Fex made himself comfortable, resting his laced fingers on the glazed tabletop in a semblance of nonchalance. Like the other councilors, he wore a cream-colored robe with a gold stole hanging over his shoulders. Dark circles stood out under his rheumy eyes, which blinked a little too rapidly. Dev wondered if the Council had been roused from sleep, if under their robes they wore nightclothes, or if Fex was the only one who'd been slumbering recently.

Councilman Kane, nearly as old as Fex and one of the leader's trusted advisors, cleared his throat. He ran a hand through his hair, light brown shot through with thick streaks of white and gray, before breaking the charged silence.

"Well...?"

Rondan pulled his hand off Dev's shoulder. "The girl is dead. The changeling found her body on the other side of the valley, destroyed by the goddess' barrier."

"Blessed be Hona." Kane let out a deep sigh, his bespectacled gaze slipping down to Dev. "What were you and the girl thinking, venturing into that mountain crevice alone?"