Chapter 33
Chapter
Thirty-Three
T rue to her word, the Queen retroactively sanctioned my visit. We were now being treated as honored guests, though we were still very much unwilling captives.
We , it turned out, included Zalaric. She had insisted on including him in my delegation as an ambassador between our two realms. For the time being, he was as stuck here as we were.
She returned our weapons and bags and granted us a private wing of the palace for our own use. She had even unlocked the three Corbois’ magic—after warning that any attack on her or her Centenaries would mean a death sentence for us all.
She also gave her word that her Centenaries would not intrude on our thoughts any further. Notably, she made no such promise for herself.
I now found myself alone in my suite, nervously pacing the floor. I’d requested a private dinner, claiming we were weary from the day’s drama and in dire need of rest. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but I was anxious to speak with the others—especially Luther.
A knock on the door brought the arrival of Alixe and Taran, followed by a host of Centenaries who laid out a buffet of food and wine, the latter of which barely hit the table before Taran grabbed a jug.
“We’re still on duty,” Alixe chided, snatching it from his hands.
“Queenie doesn’t mind.” He grabbed another one from the table and looked at me. “Do you?”
“Don’t ask me. She’s your High General.”
Alixe smirked triumphantly and held out her hand. Taran passed the jug over, scowling.
I looked around the spacious parlor of my suite. Although it was a lavish space, laden with luxurious comforts, the room was entirely enclosed within the canyon walls without even a glimpse of sky. I felt like a pretty bird in a gilded cage.
“I wish I had a balcony. I’d feel better if I could call Sorae and keep her close in case things go wrong.”
“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that none of our rooms have openings to the outside,” Alixe said.
“Neither do I.” I frowned. “Do you think she’ll keep her word and let us return home safely?”
“If she wanted to harm us, they could have simply killed us at the boat.”
“Maybe she likes toying with her food before she eats it,” I muttered.
A series of soft thunks caught my attention. I looked over to see Taran inspecting the jar of purple flame I’d purchased. He was holding it upside down, tapping loudly on the glass and squinting.
Though I couldn’t possibly explain it, the fire almost seemed to be staring back. And, oddly, looking miffed.
Another knock rapped on the door. When I opened it, Zalaric was standing in the hall, hands clasped behind his back.
“I wasn’t sure if your private dinner included me,” he said hesitantly.
“It doesn’t,” Taran yelled out.
Zalaric cleared his throat. “I’m not even hungry, really. I can return to my—”
“Of course it does.” I moved aside and gestured for him to enter. “Ignore Taran. He’s sulking because the Montios fire doesn’t like him.”
Taran frowned at the jar. “She likes me.” He gave it a violent shake, and the flame snapped angrily against the glass.
“Have you ever been to the palace before?” I asked Zalaric.
“Only during my time in the skin markets, when the Queen would hire me. Never as a guest.” He gazed around my opulent room. “Never like this.”
“I’m sorry you got caught up in all this. I know it might complicate things for your life here.”
Taran scoffed. “Don’t apologize to him. Not after what he did.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s time to move on, Taran. We’re all trapped here together. We have to figure out the Queen’s intentions, and Zalaric knows more about her than any of us.”
“I’ll help however I can,” Zalaric said, “but I must warn you to guard your words in my presence. Anything you tell me, the Centenaries will learn eventually. Whether I want them to or not.” He cut a glance at Taran, who sniffed and looked away.
“I’m not sure it matters now. I doubt we have anything left to hide they haven’t already seen.” My stomach churned, thinking of how they’d taunted me over Luther’s rejection.
The need to clear the air with him was eating away at me. There was so much we needed to discuss.
“I’ll go check on Luther,” I announced, bounding for the door.
“Oh, uh, about that...” Taran set down the jar. “Lu’s not coming.”
I blinked. “He’s not?”
He raked a hand through his hair, his eyes darting everywhere but at me. “He said he was going to bed. Asked me to, um, fill him in tomorrow.”
I stared at him, mouth ajar, as the air thickened with awkward tension.
“I’m sure he’s just resting,” Alixe said gently. “He was fighting hard to break the Centenaries’ control and get to you. It looked like it took a lot out of him.”
I wasn’t so convinced it was a lack of energy keeping him away.
I manufactured a painfully bright smile. “Right. It’s just us for dinner, then. Let’s eat.” I took a seat and the others followed, all of us stretching to load our plates with the generous spread.
I glanced at Zalaric as I filled my glass. “Tell me, what is the Queen like?”
“Unpredictable. I’ve seen her kill entire families for a small discrepancy, and I’ve seen her let severe crimes go because she was having a good hair day. With her, you never know what to expect, but it’s best never to find out.”
“Is that why you told her about us, because you feared her?”
Though Taran dug into his food like it was his only interest, I spied him watching Zalaric intently from the corner of his eyes.
“After you all returned to the inn this afternoon, a Centenary stopped me to chat. I pay a lot of money to avoid their attention, so I knew something wasn’t right. I suspected the Queen already knew you were in Umbros, and she was testing me to see where my loyalties would lie.”
“And now we know,” Taran grumbled.
“If I hadn’t told her, she would have taken it from my head anyway,” Zalaric snapped. “Then I’d be dead like my friend, instead of here helping you.”
“The Cardinal isn’t dead,” I said.
His eyes shot to me. “She isn’t?”
I smoothed the napkin in my lap to avoid their stares. “She wasn’t hurt as badly as it seemed. I told her to play dead, then I distracted Symond to get us out before they noticed.”
Alixe tilted her head. “Are you sure? When I saw you helping her, she looked nearly gone.”
“I’m sure.”
I pushed some food around on my plate, feeling guilty for lying after promising them honesty, but the truth... the truth was more than even I could handle. I needed time to think through what this new revelation meant for me before I could share it with anyone else.
“Thank you,” Zalaric said quietly. “I knew what you did with Symond was an act, but I didn’t realize why. Jemmina is a good person. I... we owe you a debt.”
“No, you don’t. My presence put her life at risk, so it was mine to protect. Besides... at least you knew I wasn’t really flirting.” I shot Taran a pointed look. He glowered and flicked a roasted beet at me.
“Do you have any idea why the Queen asked us to stay?” Alixe asked Zalaric.
He gazed off thoughtfully. “I have wondered if, perhaps, she is scared of Diem.”
I laughed, though no one joined me. “Scared of me? Why?”
“Because of the strength of your magic.”
“ My magic? Did you feel hers?” I shook my head incredulously. “Surely not. At best, we’re equally matched.”
Zalaric’s eyebrows leapt. Alixe coughed on a sip of her drink. Taran rolled his eyes.
“Do you not remember the Challenging?” he asked. “You put thousands of people in a chokehold, Queenie. At the same time. You turned day into night .”
“Those were tricks of light,” I argued.
“You shattered the arena barrier,” Alixe said. “That’s Forging magic—it’s supposed to be unbreakable, even by the Crowns.”
Zalaric leaned forward, steepling his hands. “Normally, if someone’s magic is strong enough to sense, I can feel them when they enter the room. I could feel your magic when you entered the city .” He rubbed his chin. “I wasn’t sure what it was until I met you at the inn. I guarantee you the Queen felt it, too. She is very strong, but you...” He shook his head. “You’re something else.”
I slouched back in my chair as I fought an urgent reflex to insist they were wrong.
My upbringing had made me an expert at living in denial. In order to pose as a mortal without getting caught, I’d had to genuinely believe I was one. Every sign was ignored, every inconsistency dutifully explained away. I mastered the art of looking the other way and putting all my doubts in a dark, locked room.
I’d done the same with so many other aspects of my life: My career as a healer. My relationship with Henri. My feelings for Luther.
How many more hard, scary truths were staring me right in the face that I was still too in denial to acknowledge?
I didn’t want to live that way anymore. I wanted to be brave enough, strong enough, to face the path ahead.
But what if I wasn’t?
“If she’s scared of me, why not let me leave?” I asked.
“She may want an alliance,” Zalaric offered. “The other Crowns don’t trust her. She may see you as a chance to build a strong faction against them.”
Alixe nodded. “Voting to save your mother could be her way of showing you she’s willing to take them on, if you are.”
I drummed my fingers on the table. I didn’t trust the Umbros Queen any more than the other Crowns did. But I didn’t trust them , either. And Yrselle alone seemed interested in helping me.
And, even if it had been motivated by money, she had opened her realm to refugees of all kinds. Perhaps I could win, or at least buy, her assistance in the coming war.
I thumped my head back against my chair. “I’ll keep working on Symond. If I get him comfortable, maybe he’ll slip up and let me know Yrselle’s plans.”
“Luther’s going to love that,” Taran said.
I briefly closed my eyes, but Luther’s face followed me into the darkness, his hurt, betrayed expression stamped on my thoughts. “He’s already angry with me. Might as well make it immeasurably worse.”
“Diem, whatever happened between you two...” Alixe hesitated and shared a look with Taran. “Not that it’s any of our business, but...”
I wasn’t sure my face could get any redder. They’d surely heard the Centenaries’ comments. Gods only knew what they thought of it.
“It doesn’t matter,” I rushed out. “Right now, I need all three of you to focus on getting friendly with the Centenaries.”
Taran’s lips curved up. “ How friendly?”
Zalaric frowned.
“Whatever it takes,” I said. “Get them to let their guard down, and find out everything you can. If they’re going to lock the wolves in the henhouse, then we’re going to have a feast.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to wake him up?” Zalaric asked.
I gently wedged a pillow beneath Taran’s snoring head and covered him in a blanket. “He must have had two barrels’ worth of wine. I’m not sure anything is waking him up.”
After a long dinner discussing theories and strategy, I’d wheedled Alixe into another magic training session. To my surprise—and Taran’s irritation—Zalaric had offered to stay and help. For the next few hours, I watched in rapture as Zalaric put on a display of innovative magic that even Alixe could not reproduce, while Taran brooded in a corner, stealing gulps of wine every time Alixe looked away.
When the candles burned to their bases, Alixe excused herself to sleep, but Taran was passed out cold on a settee in my parlor.
Zalaric peered beneath a corner of the blanket. “I could brand a ‘Z’ on his ass. I bet that would do the trick.”
I laughed, though my heart squeezed at the subtle sadness that had persisted on Zalaric’s face all night. “I’m sorry he’s giving you such a hard time. Taran is incredibly loyal. It makes him the best friend you could ever hope to have, but I know how bad it feels to be on the wrong side of it.”
Zalaric shrugged, trying valiantly to look unmoved. “I cannot blame him. I only wish I had friends so loyal at my back. In Umbros, friendships and fortunes tend to go hand in hand. When one disappears, so does the other.” He smiled tightly. “Good thing I am very rich.”
“I heard Symond threaten you earlier. Will you be safe here once we leave?”
“I’ll be fine. As long as I still have the Queen’s favor, Symond won’t risk angering her.” He hooked his arm in mine as we walked toward the door. “You know, your mother was a dear friend of Miss Margie. She came to treat Margie when she fell ill, but by the time she could get here, it was already too late.” A deep crease dug into his forehead. “Auralie was the only person who was really there for me after Margie died. If I had known you were her daughter...”
“You would have done the exact same thing.” His head dipped guiltily, and I squeezed his arm. “When my realm exiled you, you were forced to look out for yourself—I cannot judge you for doing so now. Sometimes there are no good choices. We do the best we can, and we hope we find forgiveness along the way.” I stopped and pulled him in for a tight embrace. “For what it’s worth, you have mine.”
His muscles softened beneath my hands, and when we broke apart, his deep blue eyes were gleaming and wet. The tendons on his throat tightened, drawing my focus to his scar.
“Being stuck between two worlds is not easy, is it?” I asked softly.
He sighed. “No. Especially when neither of those worlds really wants you.”
I laid my palm on his cheek. “I suspect there are a great many people who want you in their world, Zalaric Hanoverre. And you can count me as one of them.”
He flashed a smile, though there was no joy in it—only a wistful resignation. “Luther was right. You are a Queen worth fighting for. In another life, I wish we could have been allies.”
“Perhaps we still can.”
We shared a long look, a quiet understanding seeming to pass between us.
Zalaric turned to leave. He reached for the door handle, then paused.
“Diem,” he said carefully, “how did you know I’d betrayed you?”
I stiffened. “I... I didn’t—”
“I know what it feels like to have an Umbros Descended reach into my mind. Earlier, in the tunnels, it almost seemed like...” He trailed off, his clever eyes darted over me and noting the signs of my panic—my drawn-up shoulders, my wringing hands.
I staggered back a step. “Zalaric, I—”
He pressed a palm to his chest. “Blessed Kindred, where are my manners? Any citizen of Umbros knows not to ask questions unless they’re willing to pay for the answer. It appears I’m all out of gold tonight. Another time, perhaps?”
“I, uh—yes,” I stammered. “Another time.”
He winked and threw open the door. “Good night, Your Majesty.”
I stood speechless as I watched him saunter down the hall and disappear into his quarters, though as my eyes came to rest on the door opposite mine, Zalaric’s alarming question gave way to a larger concern.
The knowledge that Luther was so nearby was as much a torment as a relief. My heart pleaded to burst into his room and swear that I hadn’t broken my promise—but how could I?
How could I explain that Zalaric had never told me his plan, and yet I knew? That I had looked at him in those tunnels and seen his secret—that he’d been so desperate to warn us, his mind had been screaming it? How could Luther believe what made no sense, even to me?
But if anyone deserved for me to at least try, didn’t he?
I went back into my chambers and loaded up a plate with the leftovers of our buffet, topping it with a silver cloche and wedging a carafe of fresh water in the crook of my arm. I returned to the corridor and pulled my shoulders back.
“Be brave, Diem,” I scolded myself. I knocked on the door, held my breath, and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I knocked again—no answer. I banged my fist so loudly I half expected the others to come investigate. Still no answer.
I frowned deeply at his door. I knew he was inside—I could feel his aura, though something about it was odd , like a song sung slightly off key. Perhaps he was asleep.
My stomach tangled in a monstrous knot as I reached down to the door handle and pushed.
But the door didn’t budge.
He’d locked me out.
He’d locked me out .
I set the plate and the carafe down in the corridor, then leaned my forehead against his door.
“Please, Luther,” I whispered, eyes burning. “Don’t give up on me yet.”