Chapter 14 #2
Despite the lurking memories of her nightmare still in the front of her mind, despite all the aching desperation and heartbreak and suffering that was consuming her alive from the inside out, she burst out laughing.
It was not a pretty laugh; her throat was raw and the sound she made was rough and hacking. It was broken up with fits of coughing, a few tears breaking free.
Matheo watched her awkwardly, which only made her laugh harder, laughing until she was nearly doubled over with her fits.
Hysteria. That’s what the healers called this.
What her mother would’ve called this.
The pain hit her like a hammer on an anvil.
She pulled herself together, wiping the moisture from her eyes.
“No,” she said, chest heavy but still chuckling.
“I’m not pregnant.” She glanced up at him.
“You’ve lived most of your life in the palace, around a queen and her Armature.
Even knowing how my magic works, you genuinely thought I might be pregnant? ”
Matheo shrugged nervously, running a hand behind his neck. “I don’t know! Delaynie exists! And I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“What, sick?” She took a shaky step past him. “You’ve known me for less than a year, Matheo. I assure you, queen or not, I’m still human.”
He didn’t answer; he just followed silently after her.
Mariah slipped from her bedroom, again avoiding the mess she’d made with a grimace, her feet carrying her to the balcony. Pushing open the doors, she took in a deep, steadying inhale, the early morning breeze wrapping around her and calming the itch still racing along her skin.
Her nausea slowly ebbed away, and that loosened string of fury grew.
No matter how he’d done it—or if it had even been him—Kol had tried to take something beautiful from her. Tried to twist it up with his poison, to prick her with a thorn of insecurity and doubt.
Kol had already stolen too much. She would not let him take anything else.
And she knew exactly what she had to do to stop him.
Wings fluttered softly, pulling her back to the present.
Perched less than a foot from her on the railing was that same golden eagle, her feathers still rustling as she settled her wings across her back. She had Mariah pinned with a fierce golden eye, and Mariah couldn’t deny the intelligence she saw there.
The eagle dipped her head, wings splaying slightly, and something in the earth settled beneath Mariah’s feet.
The eagle was bowing.
Mariah lifted a hand, still a little shaky. She ignored Matheo’s quiet word of warning.
The eagle blinked, as if giving her silent consent.
When Mariah’s fingertips brushed the eagle’s cloud-soft feathers, something in her chest sparked and stuttered back to life.
Mariah gasped, almost doubling over. Her free hand landed on the railing, next to the eagle. Her breaths sawed out of her as that dark, cold place in her soul finally sputtered, the first sign of life in a week.
Her magic. It was still there. It hadn’t left her. It was not gone.
It faded as the moments passed, calming back into empty quiet, but Mariah knew what she’d felt. Her magic fell dormant again but the reminder lingered, like a forgotten word just on the tip of the tongue.
“Mariah! Are you all right?” Matheo gripped her shoulder, his voice wrought with concern.
His wide hazel eyes flitted between her and their companion.
Mariah slowly returned to herself, eyes snapping open to the flood of desert sun.
She still clutched the balcony railing with one hand, her other buried in the Attlehon eagle’s feathers.
“I’m fine.” If she had to say that one more time this morning, she’d probably burst. Mariah straightened her spine, shrugging off Matheo’s hand.
The eagle watched her with brilliant, knowing intensity. As if she, too, had felt Mariah’s magic shudder awake.
Despite all the confusion and panic and rage swimming through Mariah, threatening to consume her, there was one emotion that rose above the rest.
Resolve.
Her fingers lifted from the feathers, and she stroked down the eagle’s back. The raptor fluttered her wings as if appreciating the attention, her beak clicking with what seemed like happiness.
Mariah’s lips tipped into a smile.
“I think she deserves a name, don’t you think?”
Matheo stepped closer, grimacing warily. “Not my first choice for a pet, if I’m being completely honest.”
Mariah snorted and the eagle gave an indignant squawk. “A pet? Absolutely not.” She cocked her head. “A companion. A friend.”
The eagle blinked her approval.
“Okay,” Matheo said slowly. “Friend.” He hesitantly lifted a hand.
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“But you just said—”
“She’s my friend,” Mariah said. “You’ll have to earn her as yours, dear Matheo.”
He took a step back, grumbling, “I would think being soul-bonded to her friend would be enough.”
Mariah’s smile widened, thoughts turning as she studied the eagle. She knew some Old Onitan, just enough to piece together a few tangled sentences. It was a dead language yet still taught in schools; it was important to hold on to the traditions of the past, they’d said.
Maybe this was one tradition that actually deserved to stay.
A word filled her mind, and it struck her with how perfect it fit.
“Cielle,” she said, testing the feel of it on her tongue. “Is that your name? Cielle?”
The eagle clucked happily, wings rustling under Mariah’s fingers.
“What does it mean?”
Mariah glanced at Matheo. “Not so fluent in your Old Onitan?”
He gave a wry grin, shrugging sheepishly.
She turned back to Cielle. “It means ‘bright, shining heavens.’” For a moment, she swore those heavens brightened in answer. A forgotten piece of the universe clicking into place, a long-kept secret giving a deep, feline stretch.
Mariah removed her hand from Cielle’s feathers. Her rage and resolve wrapped around her like an embrace, keeping at bay all the darkness biting at her heels. Cielle spread her wings and launched into the sky.
Mariah walked quickly to her closet. “How about paying our holy friends a little visit?”
Gods, Mariah was surprised to learn, needed to sleep.
Amasis had told her as much when Mariah had raced downstairs. The High Counsellor was sipping on a steaming cup of coffee as they lounged in the morning sunlight. Their brows had lifted in surprise as Mariah stormed into the room, asking where Rulene and Callamus went when not meddling.
Mariah’s own brows had lifted when Amasis had told her they were staying in Rulene's sanctum three rows over.
Some of her urgent, pressing resolve waned as she’d walked across the packed sands, Cielle flying overhead and Matheo on her heels. She’d toyed nervously with the dragon wings on her dagger, sinking into herself.
Sinking into the knowledge of what she must do.
Mariah now stood before the heavy door to the regal sanctum, a dwelling certainly fit for a goddess and her consort. Cielle landed on the branch of a nearby acacia tree, settling in the shade. Mariah drew in a deep breath and raised her fist.
The door swung open before she could knock. Rulene and Callamus wore curious expressions, their clothes pristine and their power flowing from them in heady, intoxicating waves.
“Mariah,” Rulene said softly, her sky-blue brows lifting. “What are you—”
Mariah clung tight to that fury-fueled resolve as she interrupted the Goddess of the Day Sky.
“Tell me how to kill a god.”