Chapter 37
“Pull over here,” I call out the window to the footman.
He brings the horses to a halt, and before the carriage fully stops, I hop out.
The air buzzes with anticipation, sounds of muddled conversations from every which way as people gather in the town square.
I have to push my way through the crowd to get closer to the platform where the flogging will occur—where the sovereign announced his ascension two months ago.
My heart hiccups in my chest as a deep voice rings out, reading a list of misdeeds for a man handcuffed to the whipping pole. The sharp crack of the whip fills the air, the nauseating sound of leather meeting flesh and cries of pain following.
I don’t look. I can’t.
The cries die down and the limp victim is dragged away. The Peacekeeper announces a name that makes my heart come to a staggering halt. “Reneris Carlile.”
I squint against the orange glare of the setting sun. Neris already sports several bruises on her body, evident on her arm through her torn sleeve and her once-unblemished face.
Heat flushes my entire body while the misdemeanors being read from a list barely infiltrate my mind. A soldier uses a knife to slice through part of the back of Neris’s dress, then tears through the rest of it with her bare hands.
Neris presses her face against the whipping pole, as though she’s embracing it. She squeezes her eyes shut, her entire face pinching tight. My heart pounds, nausea and heat percolating in my stomach.
The whip cracks again, and Neris cries out as the leather strap connects with her bare flesh. Then there’s another whip. And another. And another, pulling a louder cry from her.
Neris has been my rock, yet I’ve failed to stand up for her when I needed to keep up appearances.
I let Gruffud talk down to her and allowed Mother to treat her like a servant.
Even after that, she still jumped in to save me from an ill-tempered Gruffud a head taller than her.
She always chooses bravery when cowardice would be the safer alternative.
Heat seems to singe my skin as a dark figure walks across the dais. The murmurs from the crowd fade to unnatural silence as the figure drags her flaming axe along the platform, dark hair billowing out behind her in slow motion as if moving through water.
Do something, she hisses.
From somewhere behind me, a chill whispers across my neck along with another voice. Violence is not the way.
They will kill your friend, the armed figure says.
Mainland doesn’t give a damn about half the people in this entire kingdom. Not Undesirables. Not lowborns. Hells, not even highborns.
I clench my fists, seeing red for the injustice of it all.
Neris is the kindest, most loyal person I know. I can’t stand by and watch her be flogged to death.
The ground beneath me rumbles, and shrieks of terror break out all around me.
Townspeople flee as the Peacekeepers’ hold their weapons at the ready.
I drop my bag and stomp, bringing up a portion of paved ground larger than my head.
More screams resound as people dodge and cower.
I send the chunk of earth into a Peacekeeper’s stomach, propelling him backward. He doesn’t get up again.
Another draws a crossbow, aiming at me until a chunk of earth crashes into her sneering face.
The town square clears with surprising speed as I send hunks of cobblestone flying at any official who tries to approach me.
Until someone cloaked in red materializes on the dais seemingly out of nowhere, a limp body in a tattered pink dress as their shield.
My eyes snap toward the whipping pole where blood stains the wood.
Neris is no longer there.
Instead, she’s slumped against someone, a large dagger pressed to her neck from behind. I halt, hands raised, my terraforging keeping varying pieces of stone suspended in midair.
Golden details of the black mask over the figure’s eyes almost glow in the sunset.
A black veil covers the rest of their face.
This is the same person who’d stood beside Sovereign Rheon on the day of his ascension.
The person who now holds a dagger to Neris’s throat.
When the person speaks, it’s with a woman’s voice.
“I won’t hesitate to slit her throat if you keep up this overpowered tantrum,” she says.
I blink at her, furious, and release the hold on my magic.
The stones drop. The ground of the square is destroyed—pulverized paving where there aren’t craters.
People cower, injured and terrified. I shake out my trembling arms and drag in a slow breath, pushing away the guilt that slowly seeps in along with fatigue.
“Come with us, peacefully, and your friend won’t be hurt.” The woman pauses. “Well … more hurt.”
Neris’s breaths appear ragged and uneven, her eyes closed. Her hands are white knuckled on the cloaked woman’s arm.
Palms up and out, I surrender. “Please, release her. We won’t cause more trouble. If you just let us—”
“No,” she interjects. I cannot see her face to know for sure if she’s smiling, but I can hear it. “Come a little closer, Terraforger.”
I step up onto the platform, each stair making my legs quiver more than the last. Another soldier approaches and my muscles tense, prepared for a fight.
“Ah, ah, ah,” says the masked woman. “Without a fight, Terraforger.”
I huff out a breath. “If you hurt her more, I will fight,” I say tightly, even as my arms tremble with exhaustion.
Neris’s eyelids flutter, and a small whimper escapes her swollen lip.
“Oh, I’m so very afraid,” the woman says, boredom lacing her words. She glances at the soldiers but takes her dagger away from Neris’s throat. A small trickle of blood slides over Neris’s skin. “Shackle the Terraforger,” the woman orders.
Are they daft? They’re going to shackle me knowing that I can likely bend metal?
I almost want to laugh. But as the manacles encircle my wrists, an unbearable pressure pushes into my head, into my entire body.
Everything goes still around me. The earth feels dead. The stones, cold. It’s suffocating.
What in all the realms …? I cast a frantic look at the figure, my breaths coming quickly now. “What did you—”
“Dampening runes. Not even you can get through those.”
I swallow the acid creeping up my throat. “What’s going to happen to us?”
“You’re both coming to Paramount Castle, sweetheart,” says the masked woman.
The soldiers start pulling me away. “The sovereign has been waiting for you, you lucky, lucky thing.” She clicks her tongue behind her veil.
“I expected more, quite frankly. Someone … taller, at least. Ah well, you can never judge a book by its cover, I suppose.”
She grabs my arm and darkness presses in all around me.
I’m suddenly tumbling, spinning, unsure of which way is up or down as my stomach twists and jolts.
My body feels displaced in time—simultaneously heavy and light, but then the world stops spinning.
I steel myself against the assault of queasiness as I’m now facing a large desk piled high with books and a wall of bookshelves behind it.
The room is illuminated with a mellow light, but there aren’t any candles or oil lamps in sight.
A bearded man sits behind the massive desk.
He has dark hair, which is combed back away from his face, and deep blue eyes beneath thick scrunched eyebrows.
He rises from behind the desk, brawny arms defined even beneath his livery.
He doesn’t look much different from the others who hold me captive, so it takes me a moment before I recognize him.
Sovereign Rheon Odhran.
My blood runs cold. Beside me, Neris drops to the floor like a ragdoll, the breath leaving her body before she goes completely rigid.
No …
Before I can say anything, the unrestrained spasms begin. Her arms and legs jerk haphazardly. Violent quakes rack her body. The blood drains from her face, tiny whimpers forcing their way past blue-tinged lips as her eyes roll back in her head.
I step toward her only to receive a sharp jab to my stomach.
A cough is forced out of me as I double over while Neris continues to seize.
“I have to help her!” I choke out. “She’s not breathing!
” The blue tinge is spreading from her lips to the rest of her face, her neck straining.
My fists clench, but my powers don’t answer me.
It’s a stillness—a level of control—that I’ve always craved, but now … Realms, I feel powerless.
“Take that one to the infirmary,” says the sovereign. His voice is cool, as if nothing out of the ordinary is occurring
He takes another step so he’s towering over me. He nods to one of the soldiers who grabs Neris’s body from the floor. The soldier disappears from the spot, leaving me with Sovereign Rheon, the masked woman, and the other soldier at my side.
“What is your name?” the sovereign asks.
My shoulders slump even as I try to push them back. “Gwyneth fa Eurig.” The words slip out automatically, and I wince, shaking my head. My heart thrums faster. “Pendry,” I correct. “Gwyneth Pendry of Barr na Cahar.”
Recognition sparks in the sovereign’s eyes. “fa Eurig. Any relation to Eurig Davies? Royal Guard?”
“Yes, Your …”
“Excellency,” he says with a smile that could curdle milk.
My hand starts to move to my pocket before I remember that my wrists are bound. “Yes, Your Excellency.”
“Your family’s name is renowned. So, I will give you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you can handle coming to an accord in a civilized fashion. This castle has been through enough; I doubt you want to reduce it to rubble. Especially with your father within its walls, yes?”
The threat rings loud and clear. “I can be civilized, Your Excellency.”
“Outstanding. So, let’s state the terms of our agreement before I have my enforcer release you from your bonds.” He glances up, looking past me at someone. “Ah, Jac, just in time,” he says.