24 PRISCA
Asinia and Demos had found the amulet. From the tone of Asinia’s letter, it had been even more difficult than expected. But it provided all of us with some much-needed hope.
We spent several days understanding everything we could about the army that would now fight for us. Each morning, Lorian, Galon, and Marth trained with them, analyzing the four thousand soldiers who made up our vanguard, the three thousand archers, the siege unit, and the remaining foot soldiers of the infantry.
In the afternoons, we learned logistics. According to Orivan, the elders had ensured that this army was well supplied and organized before allowing Zathrian to take control.
Within three days, we would be moving south, prepared to attack Regner’s army from the north, while Daharak attacked from the sea and the fae, hybrids, and Gromalians marched through Gromalia. She had left to meet with her captains and solidify their own orders, leaving us the ship we’d arrived on.
It would take weeks to move this many soldiers all the way through the Normathe Pass and across Eprotha. But according to Asinia, the regiments we would have fought on our way south were no longer there, having already begun marching into Gromalia.
In the morning, I was sitting outside our tent, answering Asinia’s message. Some sense made me look up, and I found Lorian prowling toward me.
It must have been later than I’d expected.
“How was training?”
“They’re in good shape. Galon’s expecting you in an hour.”
I nodded. “Any news from the Arslan?”
As expected, he shook his head.
Our messages to Rythos and Madinia either weren’t being delivered, or both of them were in serious trouble. Lorian’s jaw clenched. Panic wound through my gut.
Marth had stopped sleeping. He’d practically begged Lorian to send him after Rythos. But if his people had turned on them, or if Regner had set up some kind of trap, Marth would fall into it too.
I held up my most recent message. “Conreth is hoping to march soon. Apparently, he had some disputes with territory wardens that needed to be resolved in order to get the soldiers he needed.”
As Lorian’s skin sparked and his eyes turned half wild, I was glad none of those wardens was here at this moment.
If they were the reason Conreth’s army didn’t make it in time…
Marth strode toward us. Sweat dripped down his face, and he wiped at it with the back of his arm.
“Your cousin wants to speak with you. He says he has information you need to hear.”
Zathrian had lived. The healers had gotten to him in time. I didn’t know what I would do with my cousin. Perhaps I was merely prolonging the inevitable—and the best thing for all of us would be for him to die. Soon.
But…
“Do better than me, cousin. Be the ruler I wished I could be. Bring our people home.”
I sighed. I was once again attributing good qualities to him that he didn’t actually have.
Zathrian knew it was over. He knew he would never be king. Talking to him was like handling an angry viper and expecting it not to strike.
“What do you think he wants?”
Marth shrugged. “Whatever it is, I’m happy to torture that information out of him.”
Lorian leaned close. “You don’t need to see him, wildcat. I know it hurts you.”
If Zathrian truly did have information that would help us win this war, I had to talk to him. If he was playing with me, so be it.
“I’ll do it.”
Lorian’s eyes glittered. “I’ll come with you.”
“No. I’ll talk to him alone.”
I knew enough about powerful men to know their egos only became larger when men with even more power were around. Zathrian would be more likely to let something important slip if I poked at him, while Lorian’s presence would either enrage him or turn him sullen. And…some part of me needed to face Zathrian alone.
Or perhaps it was simply because I knew Lorian wanted Zathrian dead almost as much as he’d wanted Eadric to die.
And I couldn’t blame him.
Lorian studied my face. Whatever he saw there made him give me a nod.
When Galon noticed I was heading toward Zathrian’s tent, he jerked his head at the soldier currently standing guard and took his place. If Galon was tired, there was no sign of it on his face. I might have thought it was overkill having one of our strongest fae warriors guarding a man who was clamped in the same fae irons I’d once worn, but clearly, Galon wasn’t taking any chances.
He frowned. “Are you…”
I nodded. “I’m fine.”
He glanced past me, as if searching for Lorian, and I shrugged. “I need to do this alone.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I’ll call if I need anything.” My tone was unyielding. Galon heaved a sigh, but he nodded.
“Cousin,” Zathrian said when I stepped inside.
They’d chained him to a thick metal pole in the ground. I knew without looking that it would be made of fae iron, as would the chains leading to the heavy manacles around his wrists.
My own wrists ached at the sight.
I met his gaze. “What do you want?”
His nostrils flared, and he gave me an impatient look. For a single moment, he reminded me so much of Demos, I had to glance away.
The two men didn’t look alike. Demos had dark hair and amber eyes, while Zathrian was blond with blue eyes. Demos had a larger build, while Zathrian looked like he could run for days.
But some of their mannerisms were so similar…
“You may not believe me, but I have our people’s best interests at heart.”
I choked out a laugh. “Is that why you allied with Regner?”
He gave me a patronizing sneer that made me want to reach for my knife. “We both know I was planning to turn on him when the time was right.”
“But first, you’d wipe out the fae and any hybrids who didn’t cooperate?”
Silence. I shook my head. “If you’d succeeded when we brought down the barrier, Regner would now be as powerful as a god. What were you planning to do then, Zathrian? How would you have stopped him?”
This time, he was the one to glance away. I let out a bitter laugh, and his eyes sliced to mine. “You want to know the truth? The truth is, I knew we didn’t have a chance of killing Regner. My entire plan was to wait until he was busy killing the fae and get as many people back to our kingdom as I could.”
I stared at him, stunned. “Then what? You’d raise the wards and no one could ever leave? And anyone who didn’t make it would be stuck here, waiting to be slaughtered?”
“It wasn’t a perfect plan,” he ground out. “But if the elders had cooperated, I would have ensured they helped me get as many hybrids home as possible while Regner was distracted. As long as he thought I was allying with him, he didn’t see me as a threat.”
“It wasn’t just the fae he would kill, though, was it? I would also conveniently end up dead, and so would Demos—ending anyone who could challenge you for the throne. And anyone who fought under our banner would die on this continent too.”
His mouth tightened. “Yes,” he conceded. “That was my plan.”
“Great.” Stepping back, I glanced around his tent. “I hope it was worth it.”
“You’re not listening, Nelayra,” he snarled when I backed up a step toward the entrance. And then he frowned. “Where is your power?”
The question was so unexpected, I barely hid my flinch. But his eyes widened.
I cleared my throat. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“My power allows me to feel time magic in order to…nullify it. And yet I never felt your power when you arrived…” The back of my neck itched at the way his voice trailed off.
“It’s gone.” There was no point in lying. My allies knew I couldn’t access my power. And soon every hybrid here would too.
“It’s gone?” He let out a choked sound somewhere between amusement and disgust.
“Yes. Likely because of what I did when…”
“When I helped kill your fae mate.”
“Yes.” I studied Zathrian’s face. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. Whatever it was, I didn’t find it.
He was silent for a long moment. “This was the biggest logic flaw in Regner’s own lies, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“The idea that the gods could take our power—even if we offered it.”
I sat in the wooden chair next to the tent entrance. “I don’t understand.”
“The gods are bound by their own laws, just as we are.” He gave me another one of his disparaging looks. “Of course, since you were raised human, you only interacted with those with far more limited life-spans, which meant they were easily misled by Regner’s lies. But the gods can’t take that which they have given.”
He was playing with me. But some part of me couldn’t help but ask, “If the gods can’t take my power, then where did it go?”
“I didn’t say they can’t hide magic. They can, after all, play with us in all kinds of diabolical ways.” He raised his chained hands. “As this experience has already proven,” he said bitterly.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, you are the true victim in this war. You’re saying the gods hid my magic from me?”
“I’m saying that is the most they could do. But that which can be hidden can also be found. Perhaps you didn’t truly want to find it. Or perhaps you just didn’t try hard enough.”
My stomach twisted, tiny spots appearing before my eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
He shrugged. “You don’t have to. But you know what I think? I think you woke up without your power, and you subconsciously latched on to that as the punishment the gods gave you for turning back time those few seconds. Some part of you was relieved at the thought that the loss of your power was your punishment. Because it meant your punishment wouldn’t involve losing anyone else you loved in this war.”
Bile crawled up my throat. Stumbling to my feet, I turned to go.
“Wait.”
I shook my head. Behind me, his words came faster.
“Yes, I might have gotten tangled in my own desperate need to rule. Yes, I may have almost cost you the man you love. And I’m sure you hate me for that. But you have to listen. For our people.” His voice was desperate now, cracking on the last word.
Slowly, I turned. “You have two minutes.”
And he began to speak.
Realization trickled into me. Slowly, my limbs became heavy, as if the dread had seeped into them. It felt like I was sleepwalking from his tent. Distantly, I heard Galon’s voice. But all I could think about was getting to Lorian.
And then he was there. His huge body surrounded mine, pulling me into his arms.
“What happened?” he rumbled.
I gave myself a single moment to press my head to his chest, soaking in some of his strength.
“It was a trick,” I whispered. My eyes met Lorian’s, “Regner moved his forces down into Gromalia and let our spies learn of his weapon. He wanted us to think he was attacking on all fronts to remove our wards, so we would split our attention. In reality, he was readying his armies, gathering his monsters, moving the last amulet to the capital—” My voice broke.
Lorian’s face turned stark. It was as if even those dark-green eyes lost some of their color.
“He’s going to the pass.” His voice was hoarse as he made the connection. “He’s going to kill all of the hybrids who are attempting to get back to Lyrinore.”
Sickness rose, clawing at my throat. I panted through it. “Anyone who can’t fight. Women with young children. The sick. The old. He’s going to murder them all.”
The horror of it engulfed me. Regner would deal a blow that would not only kill our most vulnerable—the people we’d sworn to keep safe—but…how would our soldiers find the strength to fight, knowing they had lost everyone they loved?
“Do you believe Zathrian?”
“In this? I do. He said…he said something strange has been happening in the sea. What if…what if Regner’s using the same magic that hid his fleet from Daharak to get his people into position?”
Lorian cursed, rubbing a hand over his face. “We need to check,” he said. “Let’s get messages out to our spies immediately. While we’re waiting to hear back, we need to warn the others. But Prisca…there’s not enough time.”
My throat was so parched, I could barely speak. “Asinia, Demos, Telean…they need to know. We need to tell them to get to the Asric Pass. The soldiers guarding our people will be expecting Regner to have left a regiment or two to cut them off. They won’t be prepared to meet all of his forces. We need to get a message to Tymriel and the rest of the elders as well. If they truly want to help our people, this is their chance.”
Lorian pulled me along suddenly, until we were stepping into one of the central tents. A large map had been hung on one of the canvas walls, and I stared at the Asric Pass. I should have sent more soldiers. Why hadn’t I sent more?
Lorian pointed at the center of Eprotha—and the regiments Regner had stationed there. “We’d thought they were going to move south.” He ran his finger toward the fae lands. “But they’ll attack from behind.” He shifted his finger to the entrance to the Asric Pass, between Eprotha and the fae lands. “I kept wondering what Regner was waiting for. Now we know. He was waiting for our order to evacuate. When our people would be moving toward the pass.”
My head spun. Thousands of our most vulnerable, along with a third of our army…they would be trapped between Regner’s forces.
“Vicer only took three thousand hybrid soldiers to help with the evacuation.”
“Regner will position more soldiers on the coast.”
“Yes,” I said. “As soon as he kills us, his plan is to use the ships he has kept hidden to invade the hybrid kingdom once again, wiping out every single hybrid still alive.”
Orivan was grim. Silent. We’d immediately told him what Regner was planning, and he stood, hands on his hips as he contemplated the hybrids going about their day around us. Prisca looked shellshocked, as if she was unable to reconcile what she had just learned. I couldn’t blame her. Even after everything I’d seen and done, some part of me refused to believe the extent of the evil Regner had committed.
I squeezed her hand. “I want to find the hags. They allowed your cousin to set up his camp this close to their territory for a reason.”
And the stone women were known to be close to the dead. There was a chance one of them could help reverse whatever was happening to me.
As much as I wanted to be able to see Cavis, I couldn’t afford to be distracted by the death I had wielded across this continent. Not with Prisca surrounded by those who could prove to be enemies. If Cavis were here, he would urge me to do whatever it took to keep her safe, just as he had done for his own wife and child.
Her gaze darted across my face. I couldn’t tell her about the hags’ connection to the dead. Not in front of Orivan. But after a long moment, she nodded. “Do you want me to come with you?”
Yes. I wanted her with me every second of every day, with a ferocity that occasionally disconcerted me, even now.
But the dark circles beneath her eyes contrasted concerningly with the wan appearance of her skin. She was so pale, it cut at something inside me.
“Stay here, wildcat.” I glanced at Galon, who nodded at me. “Try to get some rest. I won’t be long.”
She frowned, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. But she didn’t argue. That, more than anything, encouraged me to hurry. If she wasn’t resting by the time I returned, I’d haul her to our tent myself.
“I’m coming with you,” Marth said.
I frowned, but Galon could more than handle anyone who attempted to strike at Prisca. And she had just proven she could more than handle them herself, even without her power.
Orivan arranged for a couple of horses for us.
“The hags are dangerous,” he said as we walked toward the camp’s stables. “Allow me to send a few of my best men with you.”
Marth snorted—likely at the idea that I needed the protection of hybrid soldiers. I sent him a killing look.
“We can handle the hags. Thank you.”
Surprise flickered in Orivan’s eyes, making it clear he hadn’t expected basic manners from the Bloodthirsty Prince. But within a few minutes, we were mounting a couple of saddled mares and heading back toward the Cursed City. There was a chill in the air this close to the mountains, and my neck itched from the feeling of thousands of eyes watching us leave.
We rode in silence for a while. Marth scowled into the distance. He’d been deeply unhappy for a long time now. And it was time to talk about it.
My neck itched some more.
“Will Eadric’s and Soltor’s deaths be enough?” I asked him. “Will Regner’s?”
He didn’t ask me what I was talking about. He knew. And he didn’t lie to me either.
“No. It will never be enough.”
“Because you blame yourself.”
He shrugged, refusing to look at me. My temper stirred.
“I’ve seen Cavis,” I bit out. I hadn’t told Galon this yet. It was a conversation I’d wanted to have when we were somewhere quiet. Somewhere we could mourn. But Marth needed to know now.
Slowly, Marth turned his head. And his eyes were a wasteland.
“I’m not jesting,” I snarled. “You know I would never jest about this.”
Understanding dawned across his face. Even at his most depressed, Marth was quick. “Because you died. And Prisca brought you back.”
“I didn’t just die. I shattered. My heart didn’t just stop, it ceased existing completely. Perhaps that is why I’m now seeing and hearing the dead. Or perhaps it is because Prisca enraged the gods by her actions, and this is the consequence.”
Marth gazed at me hungrily. “Tell me.”
“I heard his voice at first. The night you were stabbed in Sorlithia.” I scowled at the reminder. “And then the day I married Prisca, he stood next to us briefly.”
Marth looked away, but not before I caught the wetness in his eyes.
“He was mostly focused on Prisca. But he looked at you. And he smiled that crooked smile. You know the one.”
Marth pressed his lips together and nodded, still staring straight ahead. I steered my horse around a chunk of stone lying on the trail. We were already close to the city.
“He didn’t say a word about blaming you. He didn’t frown or scowl. He wore that expression. Half impatient, half amused. It was the same look he wore each time you were late to meet us because you were rolling out of some woman’s bed.”
Marth’s shoulders slumped.
“And then on my wedding night.” I wouldn’t tell him all of it. That was for me. “I was haunted by the dead. Cavis helped me come to terms with my actions. And that night, after Prisca went to sleep, he came once more.” I leveled Marth with a stare. “Cavis doesn’t forgive you,” I said, and his shoulders tightened once more. “Because there’s nothing to forgive. I’m not sure why he hasn’t moved on to whatever comes next, but it’s not because he needs anything from you except for you to stop blaming yourself. You do him a disservice when you reduce his sacrifice to something you could have prevented.”
Marth looked at me now. And his eyes were wet. “I don’t know how to move on. I don’t—”
“You start by mourning Cavis. You’ve been so busy blaming yourself for his death, you haven’t celebrated his life or come to terms with the fact that it has ended. There’s only one thing he wants from you. One day, when this is all over, he wants you to teach Piperia how to skip stones. The way he taught you all those years ago.”
His lips tightened, but he nodded.
Hopefully he would think about what I had said. It was all I could do.
Besides, we’d reached the entrance of the Cursed City.
The last time we were here, all four of us had bargained with the stone hags for a special kind of moss that would help with our plans to sneak into Regner’s castle. Nothing much had changed. For the Cursed City, at least.
Once a grand capital, it was now reduced to a haunting vista of decay and desolation. I’d heard of the majestic buildings that had once stood here, the lively streets and prosperous people. Now, it was nothing more than a wreckage of crumbled ruins, the skeletons of buildings jutting from the ground like broken bones.
Bones and wild foliage that had reclaimed the land, creeping over much of the fallen stone. The air was heavy with dust still, and a mournful wind whispered through the remnants of the city. I would die before I admitted it to Marth, but this place had always made the hair on my arms stand up.
The hags knew we were here. They always knew. Unlike our last visit, they didn’t play games.
They appeared from the ruins, their gray skin matching the stone that remained as they lumbered toward us. Just as before, one of them wore a crown made of tourmaline.
Beneath me, my horse shifted uneasily as I surveyed the hag. This was not the same queen I’d originally bargained with.
Because that queen was standing to our left, screaming soundlessly.
“You killed the one who previously wore that crown,” I said, my gaze lingering on the tourmaline
“She broke her word.” The hag turned her face to glance at one of the others, and I recognized her then. This was the one who’d whispered into the queen’s ear when she’d resorted to extortion at the last moment during our deal. It was this stone hag who’d convinced the queen to change her mind and honor the original deal.
“And were you involved with the plan to tell Regner who he was?” Marth asked.
“No. When I learned of her duplicity, I challenged her for the crown.”
“And why would you do that?”
The tourmaline in her crown glinted as she angled her head in that slow way the hags moved.
“Because I hear the stones lying in the rivers. The stones used to cobble streets and build homes. I hear the whispers from the stone you call trowth, and I hear the stones used to build castles and armories across this continent.”
“You hear our messages?” Irritation flickered through me. Irritation, and something darker. Something that made the hag blink at me, an expression that might have been fear slipping across her gray face. I’d often wondered at the hags’ abilities to somehow know exactly what it was that a bargainer was looking for before they approached them. But knowing they’d been listening to everything our people said while using trowth stones…
Suddenly, they’d become much, much more of a threat.
“Only one who wears this crown may listen,” she said quickly. “And I know only what the stones choose to pass along to me. There are two reasons why you have come here today.”
“Yes.”
“You can see the dead.”
I nodded.
“And even though you have blocked those who wish you harm, you still want to know how to make it stop.”
Several hags muttered. Marth’s horse shifted to the left, and I caught Marth glowering at them.
“They merely wonder why you would reject such a gift,” the queen said.
“For the most part, it is not a gift. The dead appear without warning, and they seem as alive as you and I. They’re…a distraction.”
That was an understatement.
“There is one who can remove that power from you,” she said. “One day, he will come to you for help. But it will not be for many years. In the meantime, I give you this advice… The dead have only the power you give them.”
Marth gave a slow clap. “How profound.” The hag queen ignored him.
I buried the disappointment that clawed at me. As soon as Cavis found his peace, I would find a way to reverse this curse. And if not, I would live with it. In the meantime, we had a war to win.
“And Regner?” I asked.
“The human king will attack your most vulnerable.”
“Yes.”
“You want to know his plans.”
“Yes.”
“Then let us bargain.”