Ve'Rah Daa (The Ephemeral: Book 3)

Chapter 15

I couldn't listen anymore—my fuse was lit and spitting sparks. "Are you dumb?"

In tandem, Mason and Valerie sucked in sharply through their teeth, fearing what I was about to unleash, but Will didn't interfere. He looked too gutted to say anything at all.

"You think you're safe here? You think this valley is out of reach?" I fumed.

"We've kept our whereabouts hidden from the king. Until now, Jackson was the only outsider welcome in our community," the chief said, although he appeared more puzzled by my passionate inquiry than anything. "The world could burn, and we'd still be here, waiting it out. Your matters don't concern us."

Patrons, what a bunch of cowplop!

"Even if Regulas never discovered your village, which he will, you have what, ten years before the crops die off?" I pressed, refusing to be dismissed so easily. If he turned me away, he'd have to do so with his ears bleeding. "This sunlight isn't enough to sustain the human race. Not if you intend to procreate."

Doubt flickered in the eyes of our Rhean audience, and I knew it wasn't the first time the fear had crossed their minds.

"If the portal remains open, the demons aren't just going to ignore you. They enjoy toying with people—they like consuming our memories." Demon-Will had reveled in his time here. He'd had a brief taste of the human experience, and he'd nearly killed me in his attempts to prolong it. "When the king dies, then what? What's preventing the demons from seeking new hosts and taking over the world?" I shook my head at him. "Your plan is shortsighted. There is no waiting this out."

Laughlin scowled at me, but it was clear my words had unsettled his peers. The members of the crowd squirmed uncomfortably, murmuring to their neighbors and biting their cheeks.

"And survival aside, are you really willing to condemn the innocents you've left behind? Your relatives? Your kin?" My gaze traveled over the dozens of refugees who'd gathered at the pavilion, and my voice cracked as I asked them, "How can you live with that guilt?"

As I'd hoped, the question hit its target audience square in the chest.

The young men and women in attendance today—those who'd fled their cities as children, too young to stay and fight, too weak to defend their homeland—hung their heads in shame. And I understood their pain, their feelings of ineptitude, their desire to redeem themselves.

I too had watched my home burn to the ground. I'd left my father behind, only to lose him to the flames of war. But now I was here, taking the offensive and doing everything I could to free the innocents enslaved by a wrathful warmonger. To save my brother and my new family.

"Our people knew what staying behind would entail," Laughlin reasoned, but I could detect the sorrow in his eyes, the years that very decision had added to his life. "They knew the price."

"Did they?" I countered. "Did they know that when a demon merged with their body, they'd still be alive? Forced to slaughter children? Forced to witness their own bloodshed?"

The refugees exchanged frightened and dubious glances, while Laughlin traded a tense look with Reese that told me they'd discussed the possibility before.

"And what of those who didn't agree to this fate?" I continued. "My father and friends were innocent. They didn't deserve to die, and my brother didn't deserve to be turned into a monster." A few gazes fell, as if they shared the same sentiment, but they'd had no means of intervention. "Don't tell me the lies in my history books are true.  Don't tell me Rhea can turn a blind eye to these war crimes after everything you've been through."