Chapter 8
Zara
Lana’s heeled boots clattered behind me, and the sound made me grit my teeth. She’d met me in the training yard after lunch so that I could shadow us to Territan for a meeting, and she was still wearing that damn shirt.
I wasn’t sure why it was bothering me so much, but my skin itched at seeing it on her.
My nails scratched across the skin on my left arm, my gaze narrowing on the emerald tattoo that was now branded onto my skin.
Lana sighed heavily behind me, and I shot her a glare over my shoulder.
A crimson cloak billowed behind her, and I was pretty fucking sure that and the brand new boots she was wearing had come from my closet as well.
Lana’s lips twisted into a smirk as she noticed me staring, and her pale eyes nearly glowed in the dim tunnel.
I pulled my emerald cloak tighter around my shoulders as I faced forward again, wincing as milky, enormous eyes flashed in my mind. The stench of foul breath filled my lungs.
I nearly tripped at the memory and shoved away the lingering image.
The hair on my neck stood up and my blood boiled, knowing this was why Lana had chosen a cave for this meeting.
Turning into an alcove, we were met by a cluster of witches in dark cloaks.
Their outfits were a riot of color as we strode past, their heads bowed.
I knew it was out of fear, not respect, but their opinions mattered little to me.
Lana and I ascended a stone platform overlooking the room, and as we turned to the sea of faces, my voice cut through the silence, echoing off the stone walls.
“Freya, update.”
A tall, slender woman stepped forward, her pale blonde hair braided tightly against her scalp.
Beneath her black cloak, she wore a flowing cerulean dress with gold embellishments that complemented her ebony skin.
Small golden charms adorned her hair. Her sharp, angular features seemed to sharpen further as she lifted her chin to meet my gaze.
It had been Freya whom I'd seen in Niverrian that day with Jaxon. Openly feeding on a terrified male. A reckless act. She had been the witches' leader in Nexia before we arrived. Freya was defiant, unyielding, and dangerous, and I suspected that was why she got along so well with Lana.
“Territan remains under our control, though we are surrounded by their armies along the border. They have doubled protection around their other territories as well,” Freya said coolly, a glint of challenge flashing in her eyes.
“Our markets in each territory have been raided, but they haven’t thought of the caves yet, and we can still use them to get around,” Freya finished, stepping back into the group.
I dipped my chin, my expression remaining impassive, as I scanned the room. My eyes landed on a woman with wild, curly red hair, and I had to fight hard to keep my expression neutral as crushing relief spread through me. She was safe—at least for now.
“Cynthia,” I commanded, and she stepped forward out of the crowd, a hidden smile on her lips as she raised her chin, waiting.
Morgana had known about her. Taunted me with my own memories of her, my mother, while this plan unfolded.
It had been because of Cynthia that I knew Morgana had been messing with my head, my memories.
That day in the stable, when she had insisted that I knew her, when my mind started to fracture and I saw those flashes of her face as a child, of apparently my mother being dragged away by guards—I had known what she was saying was the truth.
I felt it in whatever was left of my soul.
Nothing like that had happened since. For a while, I tried to convince myself that Morgana took my memories to protect me, that she had her reasons.
I owed her my life, and my loyalty was to her and to this kingdom.
But now, after all of this, I saw her lies and manipulation more clearly.
My mind was a tangle of compulsions that kept me compliant, kept me loyal.
I couldn't even tell where she ended, and I began.
Memories from the past few months flooded back, of Winnifred. That was the name and face Morgana had stolen and worn like a mask, forcing me to spend day in and day out with the living corpse of a mother I wasn’t supposed to remember.
It had been cruel. One of the cruelest things Morgana had ever done. And I couldn’t do anything about it. I wasn’t supposed to know about them, their faces. My memories had been used for her own twisted entertainment, and she enjoyed it.
But did she somehow know I remembered their faces? Was this just another game? Would Cynthia be in danger now? Used as leverage to keep me in line?
I wasn’t sure why I cared. I had only known this girl for a little over a year, our interactions scarce.
She was annoying, loud, talked way too much, and often pissed me off.
But I had grown accustomed to her. Her constant rambling, her odd obsession with cheese— she had become familiar.
And now I needed her to get as far away from me as possible.
I didn't need her death haunting me too.
Not for the first time hatred for Morgana stirred in my chest, and as always it was snuffed out by that dark living thing slithering there. It tightened in my chest as a warning, like a snake coiling to strike, and I had to take a deep breath to calm myself before speaking again into the room.
“Report.”
Cynthia looked concerned as she eyed me, having seen something in my expression, but I only raised a brow at her in warning. She cleared her throat before speaking loudly into the room.
“The rebellion is more active than ever. Panic is spreading through the villages and the sources are fighting back. Riots are breaking out in the streets. Guards are being attacked, and they appear to know our schedules and rotations, even after we change them. Which suggests there are spies among us.”
Her voice hardened as her gaze locked onto mine.
“In response, the dukes and duchesses have begun raiding villages. They’re punishing anyone they believe complicit—rebel or not. People are being taken. I don’t know where. But reports suggest they’re being collected and used as sources.”
The room fell silent, broken only by a few scattered snickers. Disgust roiled in my gut and rage shimmered in my blood, but I kept my expression neutral as I held Cynthia’s. Her brown eyes were burning with restrained fury.
Kidnapping people off the streets would only fuel more unrest, more panic. With the invasion into Nexia looming, we couldn’t afford chaos like this. Not now.
Shoving the anger aside, I cleared my throat. “Bring me a list of which villages to visit first.”
Cynthia’s eyes were still blazing, but she nodded, stepping back into the crowd. Someone shouted from the back of the room, and Lana’s head snapped in their direction.
“When are we attacking?!”
The room fell silent, a palpable tension filling the air as all eyes turned.
A path cleared, revealing a slender boy.
His black uniform hung loosely over his underdeveloped muscles, and his hair was greasy and slicked back.
His tawny skin seemed to pale as his wide, dark eyes scanned the room.
Everyone in the crowd, held their breath.
Lana took one slow step forward, eyes locking onto the young male.
Her hand twitched at her side, and a bright light shot from her palm, slamming into the boy’s chest. He was thrown backwards, the people behind him screaming and diving out of his path.
A few didn’t move in time, and they were knocked over as he flew backward, his back crashing against the far cave wall.
Rubble fell from the ceiling as the cave trembled around us from the impact.
“When we tell you.” Lana’s words cut through the room like a blade, and her pale eyes scanned the room once more. “And if anyone speaks out of turn again, you’ll get a far worse punishment than that.”
Her tone was lethal, and all eyes dropped to the scars etched across her skin. My gaze followed, and my chest tightened as it swept over the marred skin on her face.
Looking away before Lana could see, I let some of my shadows slip from my shoulders and stepped off the platform. Everyone lurched back, and Lana snapped her head toward me with a scathing glare. She hated when I took the attention from her.
With a smirk, I strode toward the exit, the crowd parting for me as I passed. My shadows snapping at those who were too slow to move out of my way.
I stormed through the cave tunnels, ignoring the panic rising in my chest as images of the Vorrak flashed through my mind again. I walked faster, and the tension only eased when the light of the cave entrance came into view.
As I stepped into the clearing, Lana's shoulder slammed into mine as she passed, causing me to grunt. Annoyed that I hadn't noticed her approach, I frowned.
Lana brought her fingers to her lips and whistled.
A moment later, the ground shook, and a massive daka emerged from the tree line to our right.
It was the largest daka I had seen yet. Its glittering green scales shimmered with its oozing poison, and droplets of it fell to the ground as it bounded our way.
I heard Lana on more than one occasion call it Rasha and knew she had bonded with it last year. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to do, and I don’t think Morgana noticed she had become attached. Otherwise, she would have killed it by now.
Lana leapt into the air as Rasha approached, and she landed on its back. The beast made a weird noise before pivoting and sprinting in the opposite direction. The trees bent as they entered the forest, and their tops shook as I watched them head south.