Chapter Sixty-Three
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Mira
The ship lurched violently, throwing me against the railing as it pitched downwards.
My stomach dropped as I gripped the rail with numb fingers, clinging on for dear life. Icy water sloshed across the deck as another wave propelled us up again, the screaming wind threatening to shred the sails.
Terror warred with nausea. Nausea won.
I leant over the side and retched, shutting my eyes against the stinging onslaught of saltwater.
We’re not going to die. I repeated those words over and over as I tried not to think of Aric. He had been in my dreams enough as it was. Before the storm had hit, the nightmares had dragged me from sleep. Most often, they featured his face. Or Lillian’s.
‘Hold on,’ Jadis shouted as we tilted sideways.
I screwed my eyes shut as I tightened my grip even further. Maybe I deserved to drown out here. It had been my idea to try and escape, after all. If Aric was right, and I was somehow responsible for Lillian’s death . . .
But no. I’d made the right choice, turning against my plans for revenge. Aric would come to see that. He had to. I hadn’t recognised the man on the docks. He had been insensible, consumed by grief.
And yet . . .
Irrational though it was, it felt like the Tempest Sea was seething with Aric’s anger. Like it, too, wanted to punish me.
Like it didn’t want me to reach Kalure.
*
Dawn was breaking on the horizon when the winds finally died down and I had my first view of our destination: thick forest spanning as far as the eye could see, with snow-capped mountains in the distance. After everything I’d survived, it was like glimpsing paradise.
Wrapping my furs more tightly around my shoulders, I thought of my mother. Wondering how differently everything might have turned out if we had made this journey together.
But I’m here now, I thought as I looked over the sapphire bay. My hand enclosed around the locket, which warmed at my touch. I made it. We made it.
Darius came to stand at my side as we drew closer to the beach, facing the line of warriors who had received our message. With the capital city of Taiga under Roran’s control, it had been too risky to land anywhere close to the main ports, but he’d claimed we would be safe enough in the Wilds – the untamed lands to the west of the mountain range.
I wasn’t so sure. The Kalurians didn’t appear friendly, dressed in chain mail armour with unsheathed weapons and long braided hair. Northerners had a reputation as fierce fighters, and all these men and women radiated the same warlike intensity.
Maybe Darius noticed the way my hand clung to the rail, like we were still caught in that raging storm. ‘These are your people,’ he reminded me. ‘They’re here for you.’
Swallowing, I nodded. The instant our shallow-draft vessel grounded on the shore, Darius jumped off the bow and motioned for me to join him. I lowered myself into the clear water more cautiously, my legs wobbly. After three days at sea, I was unused to solid ground.
As we waded towards the beach, I was very grateful for Jadis and Elian. Regardless of Darius’s assurances, neither of their hands left their swords.
The six of us stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the assembled Kalurians, who stared me down without warmth. None of them spoke, and I felt my skin flush. What had I expected? Welcoming smiles? Bows?
‘Come with us,’ one said in a heavy Kalurian accent, and with a gesture from Darius, the rest of our party came ashore.
The warrior led us between gnarled, windblown trees and through a meadow filled with wildflowers. A damp chill enveloped me as we entered the thick forest beyond, its emerald canopy blocking out the sun. Animals darted in and out of sight with flashes of colour, trumpeting our presence with urgent calls.
And as we delved deeper into the forest, the glow of lanterns drew my gaze upwards. To—
‘Incredible,’ I breathed, staring at the dwellings above. They were built artfully into the trees – multiple buildings on top of one another, all connected by wooden bridges.
I paused, squinting at the intricate homes with their carved doors and balconies, many of them lit in a golden glow.
A village.
I was staring at a Kalurian village.
‘Welcome to the Wilds,’ the warrior told me, his expression softening as he followed my gaze.
Odessa was focused on the vibrant world in the treetops too, watching forest dwellers cross the boardwalks high above. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking, but she seemed reluctant to leave the village behind.
The clink of manacles alerted me as Cassius strode up to my side, the mottled light playing across his wan face and dishevelled tunic.
‘You’ve made your point,’ he said, extending his bound hands in front him. ‘You’ve proven that you’re in control. You can release me now.’
I blinked at him. And then I laughed. ‘Are you serious?’
‘It would be in your best interests, Mira, for us to work together. I don’t want my sister to rule Ravalia any more than you do.’
I didn’t ask how he’d put it together. He had probably overheard me telling Darius and Jadis what I had seen before we set sail: Scarlett riding towards the docks with her father’s crown on her head. I still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened the day I was supposed to marry Cassius, but I knew Scarlett had given me false information – and there was only one way she could have taken that crown.
What a fool I’d been. How many times had I reminded myself that I couldn’t trust anyone in the Ravalian Court?
‘I’ve tried making deals with you before,’ I said dismissively to Cassius. ‘I won’t make that mistake again.’
Apparently, Cassius was done with diplomacy. He leant closer, his eyes narrowing. ‘One day, you’re going to need me. And when that day comes—’
Lightning fast, Odessa stepped in front of the prince. ‘You’re in no position to make demands,’ she snapped. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, you’re surrounded by people who want you dead. If I were you, I would focus on remaining useful and quiet .’
Cassius tilted his head, considering the retinue of Kalurian warriors around us. But when he looked back at Odessa, it was with an assessing stare. ‘You can’t be pleased about this,’ he said in a low voice, ‘not when you fought so hard to maintain your position as my fiancée. To become a Ravalian princess.’
‘Don’t try to imply that you know me.’ Her face was hard as she regarded him, no softness to be seen. ‘I did that for my family, not for ambition. And certainly not for you .’
Odessa strode to the front of the group with her head held high. I had the sense that her dismissal aggravated Cassius more than anything else. He scowled as she walked away, but his expression turned impassive as he noticed me watching.
‘I could tell her everything, you know,’ Cassius said. ‘I wonder how cooperative she would be then – if she knew that you framed her father.’
I went still. ‘You’d be exposing yourself, too.’
He shrugged. ‘That only matters if I have something to lose.’
I didn’t dignify that with a response. Following Odessa’s example, I quickened my pace, leaving the prince behind.
Time was meaningless in the forest. Only the hunger gnawing at my stomach suggested that we’d been travelling for hours. My breath started to come more heavily as the land sloped upwards, opening out into a clearing.
With a start, I realised there were people everywhere. They lined both sides of the path, standing in front of rickety structures with thatched roofs.
‘Refugees,’ Darius told me. ‘Displaced from their homes, and desperate for food from the temple stores.’
My hunger and tiredness were instantly forgotten, replaced by queasiness.
Roran. Roran was responsible for this, for all these people . . .
‘Keep moving,’ Odessa hissed, and I realised that I’d slowed to a stop. Her clammy hand tightened urgently around mine.
It didn’t take long to understand the reason for her nerves. Hard stares were directed at the Ravalians, lingering longest on Cassius. Even with the retinue of warriors escorting us, we could easily be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
I stayed close to Darius, conscious of the refugees pressing in tightly on either side. They followed as the path inclined steeply, drawing up towards an imposing structure built into the base of a mountain. Rising above it was a domed temple, hewn from basalt stone – much harder, darker and denser than the surrounding sandstone.
And in front of it were even more people. Men and women with thin faces and threadbare clothes. Warriors guarding the landing of the temple, stopping the crowd from coming any closer.
But as we approached the well-worn steps, the mass of people suddenly pushed forward. Just as I reached for the dagger at my side, the ranks of warriors parted, revealing an equally intimidating woman.
She glided towards us with purpose, her braided hair highlighting an angular face decorated with silver tattoos. Unlike the women who followed behind her, dressed in white, fur-lined cloaks, her slender body was covered by material so fine it was almost sheer, as if she didn’t feel the cold at all. It fell to the ground in slitted midnight-black panels.
The moment she raised her hand, absolute stillness swept over the gathering.
‘I am High Priestess Velanthe,’ she said in a voice that carried effortlessly over the throng. ‘Be welcome in my domain, Princess Kasmira, daughter of King Arioch.’
Rumbling broke out, and I wondered what these people saw. Did they see the leader my mother had envisioned, or was I as unremarkable as Emperor Kalias had always thought I was?
I couldn’t be sure. Their expressions varied from wary to curious, but there was none of the tentative warmth the high priestess had shown me.
What right did I have to come here? To ask them to accept me as their leader?
None, their cold faces replied.
‘Come, Kasmira,’ Velanthe said gently but firmly, striding towards a towering silver door.
Darius and the others climbed the steps without further prompting. I started to follow, but then I paused. Something about these people – their distrust and pinched faces – held me immobile.
I couldn’t turn my back on them. Even when the weight of their stares threatened to make me crumble.
‘I’ve lived my whole life in the Ravalian Empire.’ The words left my lips before I could think better of speaking. Men, women and children stared at me, so silent I could hear the faint rustle of the trees. My heart was pounding, but I forced myself to continue: ‘I don’t know Kalure, but I know Ravalia. I’ve seen their injustices and their cruelty. I was there when the emperor ordered Roran to crush your rebellion with brute force. I watched my mother beheaded for loving King Arioch, and a good man sacrifice himself for your cause.’
Perhaps it was only my imagination, but I could have sworn the Wilds went still: like the trees themselves were listening in anticipation.
I took a deep breath, and as I exhaled, I knew what I needed to do.
I slipped the furs from my shoulders, revealing the fighting leathers underneath.
And then I unsheathed my dagger.
A few of the people nearest to me drew back, and the warriors visibly tensed. They relaxed as I sank to one knee.
‘S?ren Halvor,’ I said strongly, my voice amplified by the temple wall, ‘loved Kalure. He gave his life so that I could fight for you. With you.’ For the first time, saying his name didn’t fill me with guilt, but a sense of rightness. ‘And that’s exactly what I intend to do. If you’ll have me.’
I extended the dagger in my palms. My offering.
My vow.
The silence held for another, mortifying minute. Then, with great reverence, the high priestess bowed her head. In unison, the warriors followed her lead, until everyone had their gazes angled to the ground.
But it wasn’t their gestures that moved me.
It was the feeling of someone tugging on my arm. A little boy, in ragged clothes, helping me to my feet. In an instant, he was joined by others: a crowd of people lining the temple steps.
I had been afraid of these people before – afraid of their numbers, their potential for violence.
I wasn’t afraid now.
I walked between them, hand in hand with the little boy. And as I passed, their fingers brushed my hair, my shoulders, the hem of my skirts.
It was humbling. Tears welled in my eyes as I embraced the sudden connection to my father’s people.
A connection that I had never allowed myself to hope for or imagine.
When I reached the temple landing, a rhythmic thudding met my ears. The warriors below, pounding their shields against the ground.
As I stared out over the glade, my mother’s words came back to me: You would have made a brilliant Warrior, Mira. You would have made an even better ruler.
I had made so many mistakes. I had more regrets than I could count, but I was determined to live up to that belief.
I ascended the remaining steps, my eyes on the entrance to the temple complex, where the high priestess waited. Darius and the others stood respectfully to one side, but Cassius tried to follow, only to have two warriors bar his way. His face paled slightly – then hardened when he realised the Kalurians were looking at me. Awaiting my orders.
‘What are your instructions, Your Majesty?’ one of the warriors asked, his voice strong and deep.
Velanthe’s black eyes met mine, but she inclined her head. Deferring to my judgement.
I considered for a moment, thinking of everything Cassius had done – and what he had threatened in the forest.
‘If you think you’re safe here, in this backwater,’ Cassius said quickly, ‘you’re wrong. There’s a reason both Scarlett and I fear Roran. Without my help, Mira, you’re going to get yourself and your people killed.’
The conviction in his voice gave me pause, but I refused to let him rattle me.
‘Lock him up,’ I told the warriors – my first official order. Cassius had been content to let Odessa rot in the dungeons; it seemed only fair that I returned the favour.
‘Wait!’ The desperation in Cassius’s voice made me glance over my shoulder. As the warriors seized his arms, I saw real, undiluted panic on his face. ‘You need me, Mira. You can’t do this without me.’
I met his gaze with a resolute one of my own. And I felt nothing but satisfaction as I said, ‘Watch me.’
Dimly, I heard Cassius yelling, ‘You’re making a mistake! Mira! Mira! ’
But then he was dragged away, and I heard nothing more.
The faint rustle of silk alerted me as the high priestess came to stand at my side. Together, we faced the life-sized carving of the Sorceress, which dominated the massive door leading to the temple complex.
My ancestor. The very woman whose legend had intrigued me as a child.
But unlike the woman I’d once seen on my mother’s card, this Sorceress didn’t resemble a trickster. Her beautiful face was hard and cold, not an ounce of levity to be seen.
‘The Sorceress could do all sorts of incredible things, Kasmira,’ Velanthe murmured, following the direction of my stare. ‘You can’t possibly imagine the scope of her power.’
‘I can imagine better than you might think,’ I said, flashes of black fire dancing before my eyes. ‘I’ve used magic before – channelled it from a blood ruby.’
Velanthe’s answering laugh was soft. ‘Whatever magic you think you’ve used is but a fraction of what you’re capable of. As a descendant of the Sorceress, you’re born with natural magic of your own – and the ability to wield blood magic. In time, I will share with you the Sorceress’s old grimoires – forbidden texts I keep hidden even from the other priestesses. When you have read them, I have no doubt you will become as devout as I am.’
Her conviction made me uneasy. After my interactions with Zandri, I was wary of magic – and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to worship the memory of a being who had lived over a century ago.
‘Is that what you want? For me to become a part of the Temple?’
Perhaps Velanthe heard the wariness in my tone, because she smiled faintly. ‘No, Kasmira. My plans don’t involve making you into one of my acolytes.’
‘Then what do they involve?’
The high priestess pushed open the silver door, her eyes glittering. When she spoke, her voice was filled with religious fervour.
‘Making you a queen.’