Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
V ance smiled at the terror spreading across my face. The left arm of his tunic hung mostly empty, tied off at the elbow, and angry red skin peeked out from the bandages coating his neck. His features twisted in a cruel glare that radiated raw hatred.
Luther didn’t move, his back still to the campfire. “Guardians?” he whispered in my ear. I nodded subtly. “Alixe?”
My eyes darted around the woods. More men had emerged from the trees, a few of them carrying godstone blades or crossbows.
“Missing,” I mumbled back.
“Put her down,” Vance ordered.
Luther slid me over his body until I was standing on my own. “Stay behind me,” he mouthed with a grave look, then turned to face the group.
“Separate,” Vance said. “Weapons off. Hands in the air.”
I tugged off the baldric holding my broadsword and tossed it aside. “Did Cordellia send you to do this?”
Vance scowled. “I don’t answer to her.”
“You’re in Arboros, and she’s the Mother of the Arboros cell,” I shot back. “Or are you all traitors who put the Guardians below your own interests?”
Some of the men exchanged hesitant looks.
Vance glanced at his men and frowned. “Dell is too soft on the Descended. She’s weak—just like your mother. If they’re not strong enough to do what must be done in this war, me and my men will.”
Luther pulled the Sword of Corbois from its scabbard and stabbed it forcefully into the soil in front of him. Instead of stepping away from me, he took a step back, pressing me further into his body.
“I said separate ,” Vance barked. “And I know you have more weapons than that.”
I used Luther’s body to shield my hands as I reached into my waistband and pulled a small dagger I’d borrowed from Alixe, then tucked it beneath Luther’s sweater at his back. His low rumble told me he understood what I had done, and he didn’t approve of me disarming myself for his benefit.
“That was my only one,” I called out. I shifted to the side and lifted my tunic to show my bare waist as proof.
Luther pulled two more blades from the front of his belt and kneeled to unstrap one from his boot, then tossed them into a heap at his feet.
Vance gestured with his good arm. “Step away from each other.”
I started to move, and Luther sidestepped to block me. “No,” he said calmly.
“ Now, ” Vance demanded.
“I’m not letting you anywhere near her. You have our weapons, and you have us surrounded. That’s good enough.”
Vance’s eyes narrowed. He jabbed a finger toward Taran. “If I have to say it one more time, your friend here gets a spear to the belly. And we all know what that godstone can do to Descended scum.”
Taran’s eyes locked with Luther’s. Some silent discussion passed between them, and when it was over, each of them gave a short nod. Taran’s jaw pulled tight as his chin rose.
“No,” I whispered. “Vance, please...”
“Go on then,” Taran said. “You’ll have to kill both of us to get to her. Might as well start with me.”
Vance raised his eyebrows, looking between the two men, then at me. “Well, if she’s willing to let them die, so am I.” He shrugged. “Gut him.”
“ Wait! ” I screamed, throwing myself forward. Luther reached for me, but I stumbled out of his grasp. “Stop—I’ll do it. Whatever you want. Please, just don’t hurt them.”
The men with the spears looked at Vance for confirmation, and he smiled wide. “Good. At least one of you hasn’t had your brain rotted away by toxic Descended blood.”
He motioned for his men to collect our weapons, then turned to a man holding a crossbow and gestured to Luther. “If he moves—” He pointed at me. “—shoot her .” The man nodded and raised the crossbow to my chest, the black-tipped arrow gleaming beneath the moonlight.
Luther’s eyes turned dark with rage. His stance went preternaturally still, though his gaze followed Vance with predatory focus.
“I tried to warn Henri this would happen,” Vance chided. “I told him Descended women think they’re too good for us, but he said you weren’t like that, because you were raised as a mortal.”
He strolled closer, chuckling as Luther growled a low warning. “Then I told him that was even worse, because I’ve yet to meet a mortal woman who won’t get on her knees when a Descended man comes calling.” He stopped in front of me and sneered. “You’re proof enough of that. Your mother was supposed to be our leader, and she spread her legs for one of them instead.”
Fury exploded in my chest, turning my blood to boiling hot oil. Every muscle strained against my skin to launch at him and tear his tongue from his mouth. The only thing holding me back were the spears at Taran’s side and the voice of my father in my ear.
Giving in to your emotions is the fastest way to lose a battle , he’d scolded. Your temper has always been your weakness.
I gritted my teeth and held my silence.
“But poor Henri insisted on standing by you. He swore you could be trusted. He thought your love for him could endure it all.” Vance shot me a simpering look. “Love can be such a deceitful thing.”
My stomach twisted with the heavy weight of guilt. Buried in Vance’s vitriol was a small kernel of truth. I had asked Henri to trust me, to love me—and he had. But in the end, it hadn’t been enough.
“What do you want, Vance?”
“My arm back, to start,” he snapped.
“You’re lucky that’s all you lost. My gryvern would have killed you if I hadn’t intervened.”
“And if the gryvern hadn’t, I would have,” Luther rumbled.
“What I want,” Vance snarled, “is my homeland. I want the Descended to leave—or die. Preferably the latter. What I want is for the mortals to rule over Emarion as we always should have.”
“You know I’m an ally to the mortals,” I protested. “We should be working together.”
“We tried working together. I inducted you as a Guardian. I let you work on the Benette armory attack, the missions at the palace, even the preparation for the invasion of Coeur?le. And how well did all that go?”
Taran’s back straightened. He frowned at me, surprised betrayal written on his features. I shot him a pleading look, silently begging his forgiveness. He shook his head and looked away.
Vance walked closer and tapped his blade on my cheek. “You say you want to help us, but when the blood starts flowing, you protect them .”
“I won’t stand by while you kill innocent people, no matter what blood they have,” I said. “The mortals are my priority, but—”
“Your priority?” His brows jumped upward. “Really? A moment ago, it looked like your priority was whoring yourself out to a Descended while your mortal betrothed waits at home for your return.”
“Oh shut up,” Taran groaned. “Get to the point old man, or let’s start stabbing each other already.”
Even in Taran’s banter, a hint of bitterness persisted. I tried to catch his eye, but still he refused to look at me.
“I’m trying to get back to Lumnos, Vance. You’re the one stopping me.” My eyes narrowed. “And stop pretending like you care about Henri. You’d happily sacrifice him—or any of these men—to spill a little Descended blood.”
I looked past Vance to the men in his cadre, glancing at each of them in turn. “You all have every right to be angry with how the mortals have been mistreated. I understand your rage, and I swear to you, I am with you in this fight. All three of us are.”
I gestured to Luther and Taran, and Vance’s men eyed them with flagrant doubt. A few of their weapons lowered ever so slightly.
I pointed accusingly at Vance. “This man doesn’t care if any of you live or die, as long as he gets his war. I’m trying to find a better way. I don’t want one more drop of mortal blood spilled.”
Vance let out a vicious laugh. “Tell that to the dead mortal you ran through with your sword.”
I flinched. Any ground I had won with the men instantly eroded away as they nodded and murmured, their features hardening.
“That... that was an accident,” I stammered. “I didn’t want... I—I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“I’m sure that will be a great comfort to his family.” He turned to one of the men near Taran. “Tell me, Soritt, does it ease your grief to know your brother’s murderer ‘ didn’t mean to hurt him ’?”
The man’s knuckles whitened where he gripped his spear. He glowered at me and spat. “Hell no, it doesn’t.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said to him, shaking my head. “I never wanted that to happen. He was going to hurt my friend, and I—”
“Hurt your friend?” the man hissed. “Like this?” He jabbed his spear forward—straight into Taran’s ribs.
I screamed in horror as the glittering black point lodged in Taran’s flesh. His eyes went wide, his face going slack with shock.
I ran for him, but Vance stepped in my way. “Watch it,” he warned. “Or your other friend gets the same treatment.”
“You can stick me with all the godstone you have,” Luther snarled. He was quivering with coiled fury, scorching wrath oozing from his every pore. “I’m still going to rip your lungs from your chest before I die.”
Vance chuckled—though he subtly leaned a step back.
The mortal jerked his spear free, and Taran grunted and sank to his knees. My heart shattered at the trickles of red flowing through his fingers where he clutched his side.
“Put pressure on the wound, Taran,” I said hoarsely, hot tears brimming in my eyes. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Is he?” Vance mocked. “I hear that godstone toxin is a nasty death. Slow and painful.”
Sorrow overtook me, turning my legs weak and my vision watery. Taran had been an unexpected blessing, a rare source of joy even in the bleakest moments. He’d survived a hard life of his own under his father’s cruelty, yet he’d found a way to come out smiling. I’d never told him how much that had inspired me. How much the gift of his friendship had meant.
“Cousin,” Luther said softly, and their eyes met again.
I looked away, unable to bear the devastation carved on Luther’s face. Taran was his dearest friend, loyal without exception and fiercely protective of Luther’s happiness. Luther trusted so few and loved even fewer—to lose Taran would be unendurable.
“Why are you doing this, Vance?” I asked, my voice broken and defeated.
“I tried to work with you, Diem. I gave you chance after chance to prove yourself. You chose to protect them every time. For that, you have to pay.”
He whispered something to the man with the crossbow, who suddenly turned his weapon on Luther.
Vance sighed. “Unfortunately, I can’t kill you. Your blood is too valuable. So I’m taking you with me, and I’m making these two pay instead.” He waved his hand at the other men. “Kill them both.”
I didn’t even have time to scream before the crossbow fired. Its metallic twang was an ominous chime, a death knell for my heart.
At the last second, the crossbow tipped up as if knocked from below. The arrow sliced through the air toward Luther—and missed him by inches.
“Diem, run, ” he growled.
I did run—but not away.
I lowered my shoulder and launched myself into Vance’s wounded arm. He screamed in pain, staggering back into the men surrounding Taran.
Bedlam broke out as the crowd jumped into action. Men were moving, blades swinging, arrows flying. A hand gripped my arm and jerked me out of the way seconds before a godstone dagger swung at my face, but when I looked to see who had saved me, no one was there.
“If I’m dying anyway, let’s make it fun, boys,” Taran said, hurling himself into the wall of men. He moved like an animal, cracking skulls and snapping spears like twigs, completely uncaring of the godstone flying at him from every angle. Another black blade lodged into his shoulder and stopped my heart still. Taran simply laughed and yanked it free, then stabbed it back into its owner’s eye.
My despair hardened to rage as a trio of men stalked toward me. Though I was without weapons or magic, I didn’t care—my wrath was sharper than any blade. I launched off my heels to meet them, but an invisible hand looped around my waist and jerked me back.
“Get her out of here,” Luther snarled, looking past me. “I’ll get Taran.” Seconds later, he was surrounded by men with swords and spears, swinging the tiny dagger I’d given him in a brutally outnumbered fight for his life.
The faceless force dragged me away. I screamed my protest and thrashed like a mindless, rabid creature.
“Let me go,” I screeched.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Alixe’s tense voice whispered in my ear. “We have to go now. I don’t know how much longer my magic can hide us.”
I froze in shock, then looked down at my feet—or where my feet should have been. In their place was empty air and fallen leaves.
Understanding hit me like a brick wall. I’d seen Alixe create illusions before, when she and my father had seemingly disappeared into thin air so he could sneak out of the palace unseen.
“We have to go back,” I roared, still fighting her hold. “Taran, he’s—”
“I know. I was too slow to stop it.” Her tone was anguished and hollow. “But I can save you.”
“No Alixe, we can help them, you can slip back in and—”
Her face flickered in front of me, then appeared in full. We both looked down at our bodies, once again visible.
Alixe swore. “My magic’s gone. We have to go before they—”
“ Found them, ” a voice shouted. “ They’re over here! ”
She grabbed my arm and ran.
We moved at a blistering place, Alixe flying over the terrain with impossible agility while I stumbled and lurched to keep up. Even in pitch dark, her athleticism was superhuman. She leapt over roots and branches with ease, even managing to gently push or pull me to keep me on a flatter path at her side.
Our pursuers had no chance of catching up, and the footsteps behind us faded quickly—but Alixe did not. She only pushed harder, sprinting onward like they might appear again at any second.
Each thump of our boots on the soil was a grim reminder of the two precious hearts we’d left behind. The urge burned in me to scream at her to stop, to turn back, to wait for some sign of our friends, but I forced myself to hold back for fear my voice would give us away.
Eventually the terrain began to change beneath my feet. The hard-packed soil turned softer and gritty. Each footstep sank into the ground and became harder and harder to pull free. Small, scratchy granules kicked up against my skin and worked their way into my boots.
Sand.
“Alixe,” I hissed. “I think we’re almost to—”
Without warning, the forest ended. Alixe grunted in pain as we emerged into a vast, open expanse of lifeless desert and tumbled to the ground.
I crawled over to where Alixe had collapsed in the sand. “Are you hurt?”
She winced and rubbed her arms. “It’s just those damn borders. We should keep going until we find a place to hide.”
“Hide?” I surveyed the new landscape. With the exception of the forest at our backs, we were surrounded by miles and miles of infinite dunes. There were no roads, no buildings, no vegetation, no water—only desert as far as the eye could see.
Alixe frowned as she took in the same reality. She sighed, then nudged me forward. “Let’s at least get out of arrow range.”
I recoiled from her hand. “We shouldn’t have left them,” I snapped. “Taran was hurt. They needed our help, and we just abandoned them.” My voice cracked on the final words, remembering Luther’s impassioned vow.
“Luther ordered me to get you to safety,” she insisted.
“And I ordered you to go back. You spoke to me of titles and chains of command—do I not outrank him as Queen? Is your oath to him or to me?”
She bristled at my accusation. “My oath is to keep you safe.”
I made a low, disgusted noise and turned away from her, staring back toward the stark line of trees marking the border and the pockets of black that wove between them. The memory of the Meros compass gave me a small spark of hope—wherever he was, Luther could find his way back to me.
If he survived.
“Have faith in them, Your Majesty,” Alixe said gently. “I would bet on Taran and Luther against a far more capable enemy than that.”
“Even without their magic?”
“Yes, even so.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. “We’re trained to fight without our magic when we must. They can handle this.”
My chest tightened. “But Taran...”
Alixe said nothing, though the tense squeeze of her fingers said she shared my anxious thoughts.
She turned away, gesturing for me to follow her, and I hesitated. “Perhaps we should go back into Arboros where we’re not so exposed. We can find another hollow or climb a tree and wait.”
“We’re safer on this side of the border. The mortals won’t follow us into Ignios.”
“How do you know?”
She shot a grave look over her shoulder into the woods. “Trust me.”
The wait was pure agony.
Alixe and I sat in the sand in dead silence, our attention fixed on the wall of trees we’d just escaped. Every time a bird rustled a branch or a creature skittered through the brush, my heart would stop, my lungs would still, and a flush of adrenaline would pulse through my veins.
In the inevitable stillness that followed, my body would shake until I forced myself to calm, and the vicious cycle would begin all over again.
When neither of us could take it any longer, Alixe broke the silence. “Did you ever learn anything about godstone as a healer?”
I smirked grimly at the irony. Godstone had been one of the many topics my mother forbid me to learn in her effort to shield me from the Descended world. Had her disappearance not prompted me to take over her work at the palace and pore over her notes on Descended ailments, I might not know about it even now.
“The small wounds aren’t always fatal,” I answered. “As long as the toxin doesn’t spread, they heal. Slowly, but they heal.”
“And if it does spread—is there any treatment?”
I clenched my jaw. “None that I know of.”
She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, dipping her head low. Almost too quietly to hear, she began whispering, offering up a prayer to the Blessed Mother Lumnos—to watch over Taran and Luther and return them to us, to guide Taran’s healing from his wounds, and to carry us safely back to our terremère .
I felt suddenly out of place, a heathen intruder into a sacred rite.
When she finished, she gazed up to the sky. “I have no offering, Blessed Mother, but I hope you hear me all the same.”
“Offering?” I asked.
Alixe looked at me. “When we pray to the Kindred, we give an offering of magic. Just a small drop, something to honor the gifts they bestowed. They say the magic given up in prayer is lost forever. In theory, that is—no one really knows for sure.”
“If that’s true, I’m surprised anyone prays at all. Aren’t the Descended a bit, um, obsessive about keeping their magic strong?”
She cracked a small smile. “That’s why the Kindred give the strongest magic to their most faithful servants. ‘ An ember given is a flame received .’” She smiled. “At least that’s what my mother yelled while chasing me around the palace as a child, trying to get me to say my prayers instead of sparring with my cousins.”
I laughed at the thought of a tiny hellraising Alixe fleeing her exasperated parents. I imagined it looked quite a bit like my own childhood, a few miles away but an entire world apart.
“That explains Luther’s power,” I said. “I’ve never seen a man more devout.”
Alixe nodded in agreement.
“But what about me? I’ve never prayed to her.” I looked up at the stars and squinted as if I might come eye-to-eye with the divine old bird herself. “I’ve made fun of her a fair bit. Cussed her out a few times. I asked her for a favor once, and I’m pretty sure she laughed in my face.”
“Faith isn’t always about prayer. Sometimes it’s about sacrifice.”
Her somber look sent a chill climbing up my spine. I didn’t ask what she meant, and I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know.
Her head turned toward Arboros, and she sucked in a breath.
My eyes shot to the trees. From the shadows, two figures appeared. One was staring at a small object in his hand, and the second was limping, his arm draped around the other’s shoulders.
I started toward them, but Alixe grabbed me and pushed me back. “I’ll go. You stay here.”
“This is absurd,” I hissed. “Stop treating me like a liability.”
“You are a liability,” she clipped, uncharacteristically losing her usual calm. “The three of us will always put your life first. If you wish to protect us, let us do our jobs to protect you.”
Heated arguments swirled in my throat. “Fine,” I gritted out. “Go.”
I fumed at my involuntary helplessness as I watched her run to their side and take Taran’s other arm over her shoulders.
Moments later, faces began to appear among the trees. I started to shout a warning, then paused as I realized the mortals had stopped their pursuit at the edge of the forest.
“I’m fine,” Taran muttered when they approached. “Let me go already. I’ve had worse wounds from a bar fight.”
They ignored his complaints, which only made him grumble louder, and laid him out on the sand. I kneeled at his side and gently peeled away his vest and the thick tunic underneath. The two gashes were already red and swelling, with fresh blood still seeping from the wounds.
“Are there any more?” I asked, looking up at Luther.
He stared at me with a pale, shellshocked expression. He didn’t answer. From the empty glaze of his eyes, I wasn’t sure he’d even heard me.
I leaned over and laid my palm on Luther’s cheek. He seemed startled for a moment, then he pressed his hand against mine, clutching it with icy fingers that gripped mine like a lifeline.
My heart ached at seeing him so unraveled. His leaden features betrayed a loss he was already beginning to grieve.
“Just the two,” Taran huffed. “Can’t believe I got taken out by a bunch of mortals. It’s a good thing I’m dying, I’d never live this down at home.”
No one laughed.
Luther’s eyelids squeezed shut. Alixe looked away, blinking rapidly as the moonlight gleamed off the wetness in her eyes.
I stared at Taran’s injuries. The gravity of what he faced was overwhelming. The heft of it crushed me down, threatening to drag me back into the gloom of sorrow.
But before I was a prisoner of war or a Queen, I was a healer—and a damn good one. I did not fear wounds or sickness, I saw them as a puzzle to be solved. I might never have the courage to take lives, but I could save them.
At the very least, I could fight for them.
I took a deep breath, packing my panic and terror and heartbreak into a tiny box for another day, then shot Taran an irritated look.
“Don’t be so dramatic. You’re not dying.”
He blinked at me. “I’m not?”
“Of course not.” I ripped off the hem of my tunic and folded it into two squares, then pressed one to the cut on his rib. “I was just telling Alixe these small cuts usually heal on their own.”
“They do?” Luther asked.
I couldn’t risk looking at him and letting his grief crack my facade, so I put him to work instead. I grabbed his hand and laid it on the makeshift bandage. “Here, hold this in place. Firm pressure, but not too much. Alixe, take the one at his shoulder.”
They shuffled closer to Taran to follow my instructions. I made small adjustments until I was satisfied, then I leaned over and plucked a dagger from one of Alixe’s many sheaths. I pulled my tunic off completely and set about cutting it into a pile of long strips.
“Do you need more?” Alixe asked. “You can take mine, too.”
“Or my coat,” Luther added.
“No, those fancy Descended fabrics will irritate the wound. The linen is better.” I grinned at Taran. “You know, if you wanted to get me topless, there were far easier ways to go about it.” I winked. “Just ask Luther.”
Taran winced through his laughter. “I would, but I don’t want another blade in my side.”
I risked a smile up at Luther. His vacant gaze was trained on Taran’s wound.
“Look,” Taran said, jerking his chin toward the forest.
At the edge of the woods, one of the mortal men had begun to shuffle forward beyond the tree line. He was walking haltingly, pausing after each step, his hands quivering at his side.
“Are they scared of the border?” I asked.
“If not, they should be,” Taran muttered.
The man’s progress made him braver. He took larger steps, his back straightening. He scowled up at the three of us and raised a finger. “You can’t run from us forever, Descended sc—”
His voice turned to screams as a fire exploded at his feet, engulfing his body and consuming him in an instant. He fell to his knees, then collapsed forward with a guttural moan. Seconds later, the flames died to a flicker and extinguished. Where once there’d been a man, there was now only a charred, motionless husk.
“ Fucking Ignios ,” Taran said. “I’d heard the rumors, but I didn’t think it was true.”
“What the hell was that?” I gasped.
“Ignios border defense,” Alixe said darkly. “They put it in place after expelling all their mortals to ensure none of them came back.”
Nausea rose in my throat. The sound of the dead man’s screams were still echoing across the dunes. There wasn’t even an Ignios Descended around to claim their kill—just another mortal death added to the tally.
“At least we know the mortals won’t be coming after us here,” Alixe said. “We’re safe for now.”
Taran sunk back against the sand. He lolled his head to the side and stared at me, his eyes jumping around my face in search of the truth. “You really think I’ll survive this, Queenie?”
It was the lie of my life as I swallowed down my horror and plastered on a dazzling smile. I lifted a shoulder in a light, unbothered shrug. “Of course I do. We just need to keep the cuts clean. Think you can handle resting and giving them time to heal?”
His body sagged with a visceral sigh of relief. “Think you can stay out of trouble for a few days?”
I glanced over to the hateful brown eyes watching us from the darkness. “We’ll see.”