Chapter 45 Lena
FORTY-FIVE
LENA
“Are you sure about this?” Maia asked.
She’d followed Lena out of the cave whilst the others had finished making preparations, and in the gray light of the approaching dawn, the redness to the wound on her face was even more pronounced.
The sight of it only strengthened Lena’s resolve.
She wasn’t going to let any more people get hurt because of her.
“Maia, it will be fine.” When the younger girl only chewed on her lip in response, Lena added, “Finaen will be fine.”
Tears welled in Maia’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have run with Yana. I was weak, and now my brother is gone.”
Something in Lena’s chest broke. She’d thought Maia had been quiet because she’d blamed Lena for what had happened to Finaen, and whilst it was a relief to know that wasn’t the case, the realization that Maia blamed herself was somehow worse.
Lena pulled Maia into her chest. “This isn’t your fault, little wolf. Venysa and the Haesta have been planning this for years, but we’re going to stop them, okay? I won’t let anything happen to Finaen. He’s the closest thing to family I have left.” Lena paused, her voice breaking. “You both are.”
She could barely sense Maia’s threads through the bangle’s suppressing magic, but she could have sworn she saw the air around Maia brighten.
They stood together in silence like that until Casimir came out of the cave, his expression somber. “It’s almost time.”
Reluctantly, Lena pulled back from Maia. The girl’s tears had stopped, and as she looked between Lena and Casimir, who were both doing their best not to meet each other’s gazes, she said, “I’ll give you two a minute,” before brushing past them both into the cave.
“I’m sorry,” Casimir said, “for not telling you about the bangle. I was telling the truth before; my father thought it was lost, and so did I. So when I first realized you were the Fateweaver, I … thought I could convince you to join Queen Anja. I thought it wouldn’t matter if the bangle was lost if we had you on our side.
I know that I saw the Fateweaver as a tool to be used, just like everyone else.
” Hesitantly, Casimir took a step closer.
“But the more time I spent with you, the more I started to see you as Lena, and after a while, I knew that if you walked away at the end of all this—that if you decided not to come with me to Verlond—that I wouldn’t try to stop you. ”
He was right in front of her now, the depth of emotion in his eyes enough to make Lena’s mind run blank. She was still searching for what to say when he pressed something into her hand, the smooth wood of it so familiar it made her chest ache.
Her mother’s dagger.
The one he’d been holding as collateral until she’d upheld her end of their deal.
“I think it’s about time you have this back,” Casimir said.
Lena’s breath hitched. Without her dagger, Casimir had no collateral against her. No bargaining chip to ensure she went with him to Verlond to fulfill her end of their bargain.
“But your father … You wanted to clear his name.”
“I do. But you’ve had enough choices taken from you; if you’re going to help me, if you’re going to help Verlond, then it needs to be because you want to.” Casimir closed her fingers around the dagger just as the approaching footsteps of the rest of their group cut through the air.
The smuggler stepped back from her in one swift movement, and by the time Dimas, Ioseph, Maia, and Yana appeared, all traces of vulnerability were gone from his expression.
“It’s about time you guys showed up,” said Casimir.
“Maia made us go over the plan again,” Dimas grumbled, and the younger girl gave an innocent shrug.
Dimas turned his attention to Lena. “Yana will return to the city as soon as we give the word; she’ll do what she can to convince General Mirena that Roston is behind this, and to send reinforcements.
It’s a long shot, but Yana assures me that Mirena has been suspicious of Roston for a while now. ”
“She really hates him,” Yana interjected. “And Mirena … she trained me. She’ll come if I ask her to.”
Lena hoped the soldier was right.
“In the meantime,” Dimas continued, “Casimir, Maia, and Ioseph will trail Lenora and me whilst we head to the meeting point. Once there, they will wait nearby for Yana and General Mirena to arrive, before launching their attack.”
“And if the cultists take us somewhere?” Lena asked.
“I’ll follow them if they do,” Casimir said, “and then I’ll loop back to inform Ioseph and the others.”
Dimas dipped his chin in acknowledgment. “For this to work, we have to be quick, and we have to be careful. I’ll buy us as much time as I can. Does anyone have any questions?”
The statement was directed at everyone, but the emperor’s gaze lingered on Ioseph as he waited for a reply.
When none came, Dimas dragged his attention away from his guard to look at Lena, his expression unreadable as he asked, “Are you ready?”
Lena’s heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear herself think. The urge to run, to do this by herself, was so strong she almost gave in. Instead, she tightened her grip on her mother’s dagger, the familiar sensation of it quieting her fear, and stayed put.
“I’m ready.”
Iska was waiting for them at the base of the Eastern Mountains.
The acolyte had changed out of her usual dark robes into a crimson-colored cloak, the hood drawn loosely around her sharp features. There was no sign of the obedient worshipper in her as she watched her cousin drag Lena toward her.
“Where’s my uncle?” Dimas asked when they were a few feet away. He wasn’t gentle as he tugged Lena to a stop. Iska’s attention quickly drifted to the bangle around Lena’s wrist, still visible beneath the fabric the emperor had bound her with.
“My father said you refused to join him,” Iska said, the suspicion clear in her voice. “And now you show up with your Fateweaver bound in a relic suppressing her powers. Which is it, cousin? Are you with us or against us?”
“The Fateweaver told me the truth. About Lady Venysa. About … Naebya.” Dimas paused, and Lena knew the grief in his eyes wasn’t an act as he asked, “Is it true? Is everything the church told this empire—told me—a lie?”
Iska’s gaze softened. “Yes.”
“Then I’m with you,” said Dimas, so convincingly that a spark of fear went through Lena.
He’d said he was on her side, at least for now, but what if it had been a ploy to get her here?
No, don’t panic, she told herself. She had to trust him. No matter how hard it was.
“I hope that’s true. For your sake,” Iska said to her cousin. “If you betray us again—”
“I won’t.”
Iska considered the emperor, carefully looking him over for a moment longer, before turning toward the mountain. “My father is waiting for us. Come.”
Iska started walking toward the narrow mountain pass up ahead.
Turning her back to them made it clear she didn’t see Dimas or Lena as a threat.
She hadn’t bothered checking either of them for weapons.
Either Dimas’s ruse had worked so well …
or Iska’s confidence was rooted in a safety net that Lena couldn’t see.
With her magic suppressed, she couldn’t feel the threads of any cultists lingering in the shadows, but the air was eerily thick with unease.
It had Lena itching to reach for her mother’s dagger; she could show Iska just how unthreatening she really was.
Lena pushed the thought aside. Making a move now, before she was even inside the cult’s base, would certainly spell doom for Finaen and Brother Dunstan. No, she needed to bide her time. Make them believe the ending of this story was theirs to control.
Lena stayed silent as Dimas dragged her along, his grip on her arm just gentle enough to make her think he’d seen the flicker of doubt in her eyes and wanted to remind her he was still on her side.
They ascended a narrow, icy stone staircase up the base of the mountain, coming to a stop before a barely noticeable crevice in the stone.
Iska gestured to it. “You first, cousin. I’ll watch your Fateweaver.”
Dimas hesitated for the briefest of moments before dropping Lena’s arm and slipping through the gap.
“You next,” said Iska. “And before you think about trying anything, you might want to remember that it’ll be Finaen who pays the price.”
Lena had never heard Iska sound so detached. There was nothing left of the girl who’d helped her control her abilities and spoken of the Furybringer with such fear. Everything about the Iska Lena had thought she’d known had been a carefully constructed act.
She wanted to ask why, but she knew it would be pointless; even if Iska did tell her, there was no justification that would make Lena feel better.
Cautiously, Lena slipped into the crevice with Iska following close behind. The air was somehow colder in here than outside, and a shiver snaked its way down Lena’s spine as she silently followed Dimas through the dim passage.
Like in the ancient temple she’d found in the Wilds, the stone here was marked with symbols from the old language, their lines almost too faint to make out.
The power in them should have been dormant, the incantations and magic needed to invoke them lost centuries ago.
Instead, they hummed in the same way the symbols on the chamber door beneath the palace had, a power Lena could still feel even through the bangle’s suppressant abilities.
Torchlight at the end of the tunnel broke through the darkness, bathing Dimas in a warm orange glow.
At first Lena could just make out the silhouettes of two figures up ahead, features lost in the shadows of the tunnel.
And then they were close enough for Lena to see their faces, one feminine with a strong, square jaw and dark eyes, the other masculine and sharp.
Both had the hoods of their robes drawn over their heads, but they did little to disguise the mix of fear and reverence in their gazes as they regarded Lena.
The square-jawed cultist’s attention landed on Dimas. “What is he doing here?”
“Dimas claims he wishes to join us,” Iska said.
The square-jawed cultist scoffed. “And you believe him?”
Iska opened her mouth to reply, but it was the deep rumble of Roston Ehmar that said, “That is not for her to decide.”
The regent stepped out of the shadows. Gone was his usual royal regalia, replaced instead by the same deep crimson robes the rest of the Haesta wore.
“Uncle.” Dimas’s voice was impressively steady as he regarded the man who had betrayed him, so much so that Lena again had to remind herself it was all an act as he said, “I’m here to ask for your forgiveness and to pledge my allegiance to the Haesta.”
Roston’s eyes narrowed. “You said the Furybringer was a monster. That you would never help me bring her back.”
“That was before I knew the whole story. I convinced the Fateweaver to tell it to me. All this time, I believed Naebya had forsaken me because I was unworthy.” Dimas’s hands clenched at his sides.
“But now I know it was because She had a greater purpose for me. That this—helping you—was my fate.” Dimas grabbed Lena’s arms, lifting them so the bangle around her wrist was in full view.
“Her powers are suppressed. Do with her what you will.”
Lena made a show of struggling against him, only for the cultists at Roston’s side to grab both of her arms and hold her still.
Their painful grip made it hard to push away the panic rising inside her.
Just a little longer. She just had to wait until Yana arrived with backup.
Then Dimas could take the bangle off her and put it on his uncle.
And if that didn’t work … well, there was still the dagger Dimas had dipped into his sleeping potion. The one Casimir had insisted would work as long as the emperor pierced Roston’s flesh.
Roston regarded Dimas with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. “I knew you would see the truth. I am proud of you, my boy. Now,” he said, turning once more to look at Lena, “I assume you have not had a change of heart?”
Lena glared at him with all the hatred she could muster. “That depends,” she said. “Are you going to let Finaen and Brother Dunstan go?”
“Once the ritual is complete, Venysa can let them go herself. If”—Roston paused, his smile as sharp as a blade—“that is what she decides.”
In that moment, Lena forgot she was supposed to be acting. She struggled against the cultists holding her, trying with everything she had to lunge at Roston, to claw at his face and make him hurt in any way she could. “You son of a—”
Something was pressed against her mouth before she could finish speaking. There was the faint smell of something medicinal, the dizzying feeling of standing up too fast.
And then everything went dark.