Chapter 12 #2
Mariah removed the food from the basket and spread it on the table just as her father returned, carrying four empty mugs in one hand and a full, steaming pot of coffee in the other.
“Our countries have had very little contact for thousands of years,” Wex said as he set out the mugs and started to pour the warm black liquid. “But somehow, we all still share an affinity for Vathan coffee.”
“I’ve heard the locals here like to drink it over ice.” Ellan took a tentative sip. “With how hot it gets here, I can imagine why.”
Wex murmured his assent.
“So.” Wex finally took his seat, folding his hands in his lap. Exhaustion settled again across his features, the heartbreak Mariah knew he felt re-writing itself into the etch of his brow and the downturn of his mouth. “Is there any particular reason for this visit, or did you just miss us?”
Mariah glanced out the kitchen window, something painful panging in the hollows of her chest. The sun pushed past the wispy meekness of dawn, flooding the room with a hazy yellow glow.
A hard lump formed in her throat. She twisted her hands together under the table, feeling Matheo’s eyes on her. Watching her. Concerned for her.
She was tired of being treated like a wounded animal, even if she was. In her heart, she knew this was her first step forward. It had to be.
“Yesterday,” she started, “thousands of Onitans arrived at the Kreah border, seeking sanctuary and asylum.”
A heavy weight fell into the silence of the room as Ellan and Wex waited, listening.
Mariah swallowed. “They were led there by Priam, of all beings. He told them there was an evil coming and thought, with all his divine judgment, that running was the best option.” She did her best to staunch her eye roll. “He is misguided. Perhaps a bit of a coward. And certainly an idiot.”
Ellan choked on his laugh, covering his face with his hands.
“But,” Mariah continued, “as much as I disagree with his approach, I couldn’t fault him for it.
I saw—we all saw—what we’re now dealing with.
And I know in my gut that those people will be safer here, in Kreah, than they would be back in Onita.
Even if they’re not entirely sure what they’re running from. ”
Wex nodded. “That was a good decision, Mariah. A selfless one.”
“The one a queen makes,” Matheo finished, giving her a wink.
Mariah smiled faintly into her coffee. “I know petitioning for them to stay was the right decision. And for now, they will be. Amasis agreed.” She took a deep, steadying inhale.
“But the Elders…they’re very unhappy. They made that abundantly clear. And while it's resolved for the time being, I know it’s not over.” Mariah lifted her gaze.
“The people of Kreah won’t be happy that the Onitan’s are here consuming their precious and limited resources.
They have built a thriving civilization, but this is a desert.
I’m not ignorant of that.” She glanced back out the window.
The lack of sleep was creeping up on her; she felt that now-familiar burn behind her eyes, the pressure that told her tears were waiting, just beyond the surface.
“I feel so trapped by these endless decisions and sacrifices. So many are depending on me, and who the fuck am I?” She coughed a dry laugh that sounded more like a sob. “I’m just a girl, barely into adulthood, who can’t depend on or protect herself. I can’t even protect the people I love.”
The tears broke free, sliding down her cheeks and splashing in her lap. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, that great pit of despair in her chest yawning open, threatening to drag her down with it and swallow her whole.
Her father reached across the table, grabbing her hand in his. His touch grounded her, pulled her away from the clutches of her grief.
His eyes reflected the same pain and heartache she felt.
“None of what happened is your fault, Mariah,” Wex said softly, his own tears falling into his beard.
“We cannot let the doings of evil beings force us into punishing ourselves. That is how they win.” His tear-lined eyes flashed, a hint of the battle-hardened soldier beneath shining through.
“And that monster will never win. Not as long as a Salis is still breathing.”
More sobs broke from Mariah’s chest. “I feel like—” She stopped, catching her breath. “I feel like I am failing her. Like I have failed her.”
“Listen to me.” Wex leaned forward, more earnest than before.
“You can never fail her. Do you understand? She always believed you were destined for great things, and she was right. You make her proud and honor her memory every day just by being you. By being every bit as strong and courageous and unyielding as you’ve always been.
That is all she ever wanted: that you would find a place where you could be all that you are.
And if the world wasn’t ready for it, then you would mold that place for yourself.
By the looks of things, you are well on your way to doing just that. ”
Ellan rested his hand atop Mariah and Wex’s. He, too, was crying, and the sounds of their quiet, pained sobs filled the room. Even Matheo wiped his eyes, his solid warmth leaning into Mariah’s shoulder.
Mariah didn’t know how long they sat like that, sharing in their grief. Long enough for the coffee to grow lukewarm in the pewter mugs, for the sun to rise higher in the sky, for the songbirds nesting on the windowsill to start singing a morning melody.
Finally, Mariah pulled back, softly clearing her throat and taking a sip of the cooled coffee. It wasn’t that bad, especially with the dry heat of the desert starting to permeate the walls. Wex and Ellan also leaned back, composing themselves.
“So,” said Wex after another short pause, “I have a suspicion that your mother is not the only reason you’re feeling so lost.” Something gleamed in Wex’s eyes; not humor or anything lighthearted. It was something knowing—a deep understanding of what also plagued her heart.
“You had to leave him behind, too. And it’s tearing you to pieces inside, because you don’t know how to get him back.”
The world stilled around Mariah, narrowing until it was just the four of them at this table, taking sips of tepid coffee. The chirping of the birds fell away, the waking city falling into silence.
Her fingers twitched on the grainy wood of the table, a reflex from when her magic would still answer her. The spindly, aching buzz of lonely heartbreak settled into the very marrow of her bones.
“I never thought I’d find someone like that,” she whispered after a long moment. The others stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue.
Mariah swallowed past the growing lump in her throat. “I…I always knew I was different. That I had different desires and expectations for my life. I wanted my freedom, my independence; I knew those things often meant a life of relative solitude. And I was okay with that.
“But then the Choosing happened and all those plans changed, but I still didn’t believe I was a person destined for something like love.
And not just love born from duty or obligation or even friendship”—she gave Matheo a wan smile that he returned with a reassuring one of his own— “but a love that finally made me feel whole. Complete. Seen.”
Wex nodded but didn’t speak. Ellan watched her with wide-eyed curiosity, a youthful fascination evident in the pinch of his brow.
The sting of tears again pricked behind Mariah’s eyes.
“I hated him at first. He was rude and annoying and took every opportunity to knock me down and push me away. But we were drawn to each other. Then I learned he’d only been that way to protect me, and that’s when everything changed.
We decided we could face whatever came our way together.
“But then the Royals made their move. They used what we’d found against me and tried to break me with it.
Tried to break us with it. And honestly, they almost succeeded.
It took time to recover from that; time to heal the wounds we’d dealt each other.
” The scars on her back itched, the first reminder of them in days.
“But we did. We found each other all over again. Just for it to be snatched away by a vengeful god who hates me simply for being Chosen by the goddesses who locked him away in the first place.”
Mariah took a deep, steadying inhale, aware of the tears singeing her cheeks and falling into her lap but making no effort to wipe them away.
“Now I’ve lost my magic, our bond is silent and dead, and I’m not sure what to even do next.
He asked me not to come back for him, but the thought of leaving him there, with that monster…
” Her eyes clenched shut, fighting off the burn.
“He’s endured so much pain, and he thinks he deserves all of it. But he doesn’t. Beneath his walls, he’s soft and kind and more self-sacrificing than anyone I’ve ever met. He can’t stay there. Even if it kills me, I will find a way to get him out.”
Silence dripped through the room with her tears, no one daring even as much as a breath. Wex again leaned forward, taking her hand. Ellan followed, and Matheo’s arm wrapped around her shoulder, tucking her fully into his side.
“If anyone can find a way,” Wex finally said, “it’s you.”
Mariah blinked her eyes open, the sunlight streaming in through the open kitchen windows momentarily blinding. But she turned toward it anyway, toward those burning rays, the daily reminder of what—who—had taken so much from her, who still held a piece of her heart in his shadow-wrapped clutches.
As she stared, there was a soft rustle. A brush of feathers through the wind, of wide rapid downbeats.
Shock raced through her, mixing with her grief and rage and pain, as the golden eagle—the same one from the morning before—alighted on the window ledge, just on the cusp of being inside the home. It cocked its head, gleaming golden eyes scanning the space, settling on Mariah.
Watching.
Waiting.
Female. Mariah wasn’t sure how she knew, but a locked-away instinct called to her. This creature, with her beautiful iridescent feathers and sharply taloned feet, was female.
“Is that…” Ellan’s whisper fell away, his eyes widening.
“An Attlehon eagle,” finished her father, awe mystifying his own face.
Matheo had gone slack-jawed. “What’s it doing here? Have they ever been known to leave the Attlehon Mountains?”
Wex shook his head. “Not that I am aware. I only ever saw them—and by saw, I mean heard their cries, because catching sight of one is nearly impossible—during my time in Verith. Not once was there ever a sign of their presence in Andburgh or anywhere else around Onita.”
“That’s what I thought,” murmured Matheo, still a little dumbstruck.
Mariah’s shock, though, had left her system. A sense of calm settled over her, pooling in her gut, tugging her forward.
She stood from the table, eyes still locked on the eagle, and took a sure, steady step forward.
“Mariah,” her father whispered, but she ignored him.
She moved, not stopping until she stood beside the window.
So close she could see the black and silver flecking the bird’s golden eyes, could see the wicked crook of her beak, could watch the light play with the shimmering patterns of her feathers.
“You know,” her father said softly, “they say that the eagles are more than mere birds. That they are far more intelligent than we realize, which is why they have shared a world with us for thousands of years and we still know nothing about them.”
Mariah nodded. She could see it there, in the way the bird watched her. This was no mere beast; this was a sister soul, a kindred spirit.
She reached out a hand, moving slowly.
The eagle clacked her beak, ruffling her feathers as she let out a low whistle.
Mariah thought it sounded a bit amused, like a low chuckle or a laugh. The bird gave her one last look, dipping her regal head once, before turning and lifting off from the windowsill, feathers blending with the sky in just a few mighty beats.
Slowly, Mariah turned back to the others.
“I think…I think she followed me here,” Mariah said. Ellan and Matheo straightened, but Wex only nodded with a knowing smile.
“I think she did, too,” her father said. “And I think the reason goes far beyond the power of your crown.”