Chapter 24
Sebastian would give anything for just a single week of peace.
Stress and weariness weighed down his bones. Even now, as he secured his saddlebags and swords to the Kreah gelding who’d carried him ever since Mariah had dropped him and Ciana in the desert, all he wanted to do was trudge back into Amasis’s serekah and fall into bed for days.
But he couldn’t.
He shot a glance to his right. Ciana was readying her mare, giving the beast gentle kisses and murmured words of affection. That forbidden thing cracked in his chest, softening some of his tired edges.
Ciana was so much lighter now. She still refused to talk about her outburst of wind magic that night in the camp, but since the banishment of her family, she’d looked free. Like a string had finally been snipped, setting loose a piece of her trauma that had been hovering over her for far too long.
“You need something, Seb?”
He blinked, meeting Ciana’s bright amber eyes. She was smiling at him, absently brushing her mare’s forelock, expression amused and sparkling.
Warmth flooded his face when he realized he’d been caught staring.
Sebastian cleared his throat. “I…no. Just wish we didn’t have to leave again so soon.”
Her smile faltered slightly. She nodded, a small dip of her head, before turning back to her mare.
Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his hair.
He was eternally grateful to Mariah for acting so quickly upon their return to Desva—for not hesitating to protect and believe Ciana.
It solidified all the faith he’d placed in his queen since the day he met her—that she was the one who would make this world better than what it was.
He loved his queen and would defend her with his life. But he hated this plan.
Despite her stalwart support of Ciana, something about Mariah lately felt off.
Sebastian knew she’d endured so much in so little time.
Her capture, torment, escape. Uncovering the kingdom’s polluted allume, becoming queen.
Discovering that her family had been captured, the desperate race to save them, only to fail in the end.
The loss of Andrian—and her magic—on top of it all had him wondering how she was still walking. How she managed to get out of bed every day and keep going, keep pushing, keep reaching forward.
She was the strongest person he knew, but Sebastian wondered when she would reach her breaking point. And what might happen when she did.
His gelding tossed his head, snorting and pawing at the ground.
A shadow passed through the sky. Sands swirled, and a deep indigo dragon landed in the courtyard, shaking out his wings.
Two dark-haired figures—Mariah and Signe—slid down between the ridges of Callamus’s scales, landing softly in the sands.
There was a hard set to Mariah’s brow, and Signe’s usual laughing mouth was pulled into a grim frown.
Unease prickled down the back of Sebastian’s neck. He gave his gelding one last pat before striding across the courtyard, Ciana following closely behind him.
“Is something wrong?” he asked as they approached, eyeing Mariah warily.
She wore her usual leathers: half-shoulder plate buckled across her chest, dragon-winged dagger sheathed in its red holster on her thigh, short-swords crossed behind her back.
A deep maroon cloak was clasped around her throat, and gold cuffs were banded on her upper arms.
She looked ready for war. Not to see them off on what should be a peaceful journey.
Mariah’s scowl deepened. “Drystan, Trefor, and the twins found him.”
“Found whom?” Sebastian scanned the courtyard.
There was no sign of the two Armature and Kreah Ladies who would be remaining in Desva.
He, Ciana, Quentin, and Delaynie milled about, finishing the packing of their saddlebags and the small wagon Quentin would drive.
Matheo knelt in the shade beneath a tree, rummaging through his bags, his bow discarded beside him.
A flurry of movement and sound ignited at the west entrance to the serekah courtyard.
Trefor and Drystan appeared, teeth gritted as they dragged a hooded and struggling Kreah man between them.
Kiira and Rylla—as a jaguar and a panther—stalked after them, rumbling snarls rolling from between their bared teeth.
A falcon’s cry tore through the air. There was a rush of feathers, a flash of blue light, then Amasis stood in the courtyard, bright blue eyes grim.
“Mariah,” the High Counsellor pleaded. “I understand your motivations. But I must counsel restraint at this juncture.”
Mariah regarded the High Counsellor cooly. “Thank you for the advice, Amasis.”
Sebastian didn’t like the darkness lingering behind Mariah’s words.
Trefor and Drystan tossed the man at Mariah’s feet, Kiira and Rylla circling. Callamus, still as a dragon, watched on, wings rustling the sands as he settled himself.
The man heaved himself up to his knees. With a growl, he tore the hood from his head.
Then blanched.
Mariah scanned him, almost disinterestedly. She flicked her gaze to Quentin. “This him?”
Quentin—eyes wide with surprise—nodded. “That’s him. The one who threw me in the pits.”
Oh, fuck.
Mariah returned her attention to the man. “My Armature tells me you are aiding in the organization and strike against my people. Is that true?”
The Kreah man regained his composure. His face shifted back into a sneer. “You must be the rats’ little cunt queen.” He shot his glare at Quentin. “I knew your pet would run back to you squealing.”
“I don’t have time for your weak-minded insults,” Mariah said, voice low and deadly soft. “Are you working against your goddess and High Counsellor to organize an attack on the Onitan refugees?”
The man held her glare but didn’t answer.
Instead, he drew a breath and spat into the sands at her feet.
Fury—hot and demanding—ignited in Sebastian’s chest. From the way palms tightened around weapons and the low growl that pulled from Drystan’s throat, he knew he wasn’t alone.
“Fuck your people,” the Kreah man said. “Fuck Rulene and the High Counsellor. And fuck your kingdom.”
The wind across the sands stilled like a held breath.
A deep, ground-trembling growl ripped into the air.
A serpentine indigo head appeared at Mariah’s side, maw lifted in a snarl and endless galaxy eyes ignited with fury.
“I suggest,” Mariah said softly, “not insulting your goddess in the presence of her Consort.”
Blood drained from the Kreah man’s face. Sebastian relaxed a fraction, though he still stood close, palm rested on the hilt of his sword.
“But I’m glad my court was able to find you.
” Mariah rocked back on her heels. “And I’m glad you brought your views of me and my people to our attention.
” Callamus growled again and Mariah moved, settling into a slow march around the man.
His head swung as he tracked her, though he also kept one eye on the snarling dragon at his front.
“Your High Counsellor has pleaded for me to be merciful with you. To send you back to your little rebel group with a slap on the wrist and a warning to stay away from the Onitans.” She paused on the man’s right.
Sebastian’s blood went cold as the light in her eyes flickered. Darkness rose into her expression, turning the tilt of her smile cruel.
He’d seen that darkness in her twice before.
First on the day of her presentment parade, when she’d murdered the assassin who’d killed one of Ryenne’s Armature and wounded Trefor.
And second when she’d tortured the Marked Guard Ryland upon his betrayal, one that had ultimately led to the capture of her parents.
Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to say that either of these people—or this man, for that matter—didn’t deserve the dark vengeance Mariah doled out.
That didn’t mean he liked the way she seemed to revel in it, either.
“But I don’t believe in offering second chances to those who’ve hurt people close to me.” Sunlight glinted on steel as Mariah drew her dagger from her thigh.
“Mariah.” Sebastian couldn’t stop himself. The murmur slipped past his teeth, filled with warning.
This would be too far. This man, though he’d wronged her, wasn’t hers. If Amasis requested mercy, shouldn’t Mariah give it instead of making him a martyr?
Her dark glare met his, and his heart sank.
He closed his eyes, shaking his head, but said nothing further.
“W-wait,” the man protested, seeing her blade. “I can help you. I can keep the rebels from attacking. I’ve heard your warning. We won’t act. I swear to it.”
Mariah sighed at his pleas. “Unfortunately,” she said, “I know too well how little men care about oaths. Empty promises won’t be enough for me now.” She continued her circling walk, stopping at the man’s back.
Bending to speak in his ear, she murmured, “But perhaps your body will.”
Her dagger flashed. Scourged steel glinted as it was dragged across the man’s throat. His desperate gurgles filled the courtyard. His body hit the sands with a dry thump. He twitched, burgundy blooming around him and staining the ground, until he fell still.
That chill in Sebastian’s bones didn’t lessen as Mariah wiped her dagger on her leathers before sliding it into its holster. She glanced over her shoulder at Drystan and Trefor.
“Take him back into the city, like we discussed earlier. Make it public. Let the rebels know that this is the fate that awaits them if they dare to touch my people again.”
The men nodded, faces grim. “Travel safe, my Queen,” Drystan said.
Mariah’s expression softened. She gave them both nods as they brushed past her, hoisting the man’s dead weight between them and hauling him away from the courtyard.
Amasis turned to Mariah as they left, their stare hard. “I hope you know what you are doing, Mariah. My people are proud. They may not take this the way you hope.”
“I appreciate your perspective and concern, Amasis,” Mariah said. She sounded tired now, as weary as they all felt. “But I meant what I said. I don’t give second chances. Not anymore.”
“Then I hope you are prepared to live with the consequences.” Blue light flashed again, and Amasis was gone, flying back into the sky.
Mariah sighed, staring at the bloodied sands. She turned to face Sebastian and Ciana.
“I know you don’t approve, Seb,” she murmured. “But I have to protect them while I’m gone. This is the only way I know how.”
“I understand, Mariah.” He did. Mariah wasn’t built for politics. The one time she’d tried the diplomatic approach, she’d been betrayed and locked in a cell for months.
He just wished she could learn that there were more ways to protect than with the swing of her dagger.
Mariah shifted her attention to Ciana. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Cee.”
Ciana swallowed. She was washed of her golden color, her freckles stark against her cheeks. She eyed the bloodied patch of sand. “Not the first bit of blood I’ve seen,” she said finally. “And the fucker deserved it.”
Mariah smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Are all of you ready?”
“As ready as we’ll ever be.” Delaynie approached, Quentin following behind with their mule and wagon. The two of them would travel with Sebastian and Ciana through Idrix to Vatha, then would continue to the coast and board a ship to the Kizar Islands.
That is, if something horrible didn’t happen to them all along the way. Sebastian clamped down on those thoughts. One day at a time; that was all they could do.
“And you, Ciana?” Mariah’s voice carried a serious tone. Ciana straightened her shoulders, her brow furrowing with resolve.
Ciana nodded to her queen. “I’m ready. I can do this.”
Do what?
Sebastian opened his mouth to ask, curiosity prickling through him, when Mariah silenced him with a glance.
“Ciana has a special task once you reach Vatha,” she said. “And I need you to promise me, Sebastian, that no matter what it is, you will do everything in your power to help her.”
Sebastian blinked. “Is it dangerous?”
The corners of Mariah’s mouth twitched, as if she were fighting back a smile. “Not particularly. But you might not like it very much.”
Sebastian frowned. “As long as it’s not a threat to her life, I’ll help her. You have my word.”
Mariah nodded. “A compromise I can live with.” She turned to a waiting Callamus and Signe, maroon cloak billowing in the breeze. Gold glinted in the sky, and Mariah’s golden eagle—Cielle, he reminded himself—landed on a nearby rooftop.
Leave it to Mariah to befriend one of the most elusive creatures on the continent. Despite the darkness of the day—of their world—Sebastian couldn’t help his half-smile.
“You should get going, while there’s still plenty of sunlight.” Mariah’s gaze danced between the four of them. “I don’t know when we’ll see each other again. But I know that we will. We will succeed, because we don’t have any other choice.”
“I still don’t like this,” Sebastian said softly. “We are stronger together. We’ve always been stronger together.” He remembered—clearer than most—what happened when they decided to split up.
“I know.” Mariah dropped her gaze. Something broke in her expression, something that made her look suddenly so much younger. “I don’t want to leave you all. There’s just no other way.”
Sebastian wanted to say something. To offer her just a hint of comfort. But his gaze snagged on the deep red stain marring the sands, and he faltered.
He’d known from before Kol’s emergence that Mariah would eventually go places he would not—could not—follow.
He just hadn’t realized how literal that would end up being.
He hardened himself and met his queen’s stare. “As you wish, Mariah.” He bowed his head and turned, striding back to his gelding.
He was toying with the straps of his saddlebags when wind buffeted the courtyard. He turned, shielding his eyes, as Callamus rose back into the sky, Mariah, Signe, and Matheo seated on his back.
“She’ll be okay.”
Ciana stood beside him, her mare’s reins in her hands. She wore a cautious smile on her face. “And so will we.”
“Hey!” Quentin’s shout tore through the courtyard. Sebastian gritted his teeth. “We’re wasting sunlight. Let’s get going so we can try to get to the other side of the blasted continent before the Summer Solstice.”
Ciana noted Sebastian’s clenched jaw and laughed softly. “We’re coming!” she shouted back. She stepped to her mare’s side, hoisting herself into the saddle.
“Ready for another adventure, Seb?”
Sebastian shook his head, releasing some of the tension he’d been clinging to. “With you, Goldie? Always.”
Ciana’s cheeks flushed. She tapped her heels to her mare’s side, trotting away to join Quentin and Delaynie on their wagon. Sebastian mounted his gelding, forcing a deep breath.
He couldn’t help but feel like that deep red stain on the ground had formed a cloud of darkness that settled over them, lingering like a shadow as they started out again across the unending sands of Kreah.