Terayan sat on an arm chair to her left. “Because in return, I gave him the supplies he needed to awaken the Da’ Gammorn.”
Rayna inhaled sharply. “The Da’ Gammorn. You gave him that power? Do you know how many are dead because of what you did?”
“Not as many as I intended. The Da’ Gammorn should have given Rhael the war, and in time, the Peninsula. But he failed, because you killed him.”
“So, what? I impressed you by killing your champion, and now you want me to fight for you?” It was an insane idea, but Terayan was insane.
He laughed. “No, Rayna. It’s true that your defeat of Rhael Demetrian was impressive. But that’s not why I’ve decided I’d rather have you alive, for the time being.”
“Then why? What changed?”
“Ah.” Terayan finished his wine. “That is the question with which you should have begun, Rayna.”
“Tell me. You swore to tell the truth.”
He glanced out the window at the setting sun. “We're running short on time, this shall be your last question for now. You asked me what changed—what event precipitated my decision to recover you alive. The answer to that is an event I believe you witnessed: the death of Morna Helena.”
Morna.
Again, the raven-haired beauty’s name had come up. Rayna had barely interacted with her when she'd been alive, but Morna was dead because Mina killed her to save Rayna.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“I told you, we're done with questions for now. Come, we must ready ourselves for tonight.” He stood and rang a bell on the wall.
Rayna stood, too. “Ready ourselves for what?”
“The ball of course.”
A light knock sounded from the door.
“A ball?” Rayna repeated to herself. What new madness was this?
“Come in!”
Two drably-dressed women entered the salon, heads bowed. “You called for two ladies’ maids, Councilor?”
“Ah yes, thank you.” He gestured to Rayna. “Please take my guest to my washroom and bathe her. She has traveled a long way and needs to be presentable for tonight’s festivities.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very good, sir.” They looked to Rayna, eyes widening in recognition. But they swallowed the fear her face seemed to instill. “If—if you would, c—come with us, my lady?”
Rayna ignored them. “You think I’ll go along with this?”
“I think you love your friends enough to do a great many things, Rayna Myana.”
“You’re right,” Rayna allowed. “But you’d do well to remember that.” She nodded to the trembling maids.
They escorted her to the adjacent washroom.
Rayna did her best to remain calm as the maids set about their work. It was not their fault they worked for the Council.
Rayna asked for the maids’ names, but realized that was a mistake when the younger one’s eyes welled with tears.
To them, she was a monster, and you did not want a monster knowing your name.
“Never mind.” She smiled. “Tell me what to do, and we’ll get through this.”
They obeyed, though they walked her through the process of undressing, entering the tub, having her nails scrubbed, and hair combed mostly by pointing and nodding.
Rayna relaxed as much as was possible in the warm bathtub. She remembered the Isle of Healing in Sinthahelm—splashing with Mina, and the steam billowing around them. Rayna would see her friends again. She would defeat Terayan in whatever game he was playing.
Once her hair was brushed, her body dried, and draped in a thin satin robe, the maids bowed and pointed toward the door.
“But, don’t I need to dress first?”
The younger maid shrugged. “We’ve nothing else for you, my lady. I’m sorry—”
Rayna waved off the apology. “It’s fine. Thank you both.”
They exchanged a perplexed look before opening the door to Terayan’s salon.
The Councilor stood facing the window, now dressed in a red doublet embroidered with golden thread. A rack of dresses had replaced one of his couches.
“You may go,” he said to the maids without turning around.
As they hurried to the exit, he added, “I expect both of you to keep quiet about who you may have seen here today. If you do not, I will have you and your families executed.”
The maids scurried out of the room like terrified field mice.
“Why’d you threaten them? You’re bringing me to a ball. My presence here will hardly be secret for long.”
“Perhaps.” Terayan gazed up at the stars appearing into the deep blue sky. “But I want to reveal you when I see fit. Now, take a look at those gowns. Any catch your eye?”
Rayna scoffed. “I’m not much for gowns.”
He turned around, but made a point of not looking at her directly. It was as if he were respecting her privacy. “You can’t very well go to the coronation in a robe.”
“Coronation?” Rayna thumbed through the dresses, if only to give herself something to do.
“Well, technically, I’m being named Protector of the Realm, but it might as well be King, or Emperor.”
“And you want me there on your arm as what? A demonstration of your power? The great Tallis Terayan has tamed the Wolf Witch?” She pulled out a silver sheath dress to examine.
He smiled. “Taken to your new moniker, have we? No, silver won’t do. You’ll clash with me.” He pulled out a cloth-of-gold dress with a plunging neckline.
It reminded Rayna of the dress Rhael had gifted her when they'd first met.
“Try this one.” Terayan handed it to her.
These dresses were not designed to be put on by one person.
Terayan turned around as Rayna struggled through the process. At least he'd not said anything about a corset.
Finally, Rayna managed to pull the dress up, though the back still gaped where she could not lace it herself.
Terayan turned briefly, but gave a quick shake of the head. “The shape doesn’t suit you.”
With a huff, Rayna extricated herself from the yards of golden silk. Once she had replaced her robe, she turned back to the other options.
If Terayan were trying to torture her, he knew her better than she thought.
She passed by the next several dresses, until a flash of white fabric caught her eye. She had seen the flowing white gown embroidered with red and gold flowers before, in a dream. She had been dancing with Alvo then, but Rayna suspected she would soon have a different partner.
“Ah.” Terayan examined the dress. “That might work.”
This dress’s cut and fabric were more forgiving, and Rayna was able to squirm into it more easily than the first. She clasped as many of the pearl buttons along the back that she could manage on her own. Turning to Terayan, she said, “Well?”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “This suits you more, I think.” He walked to stand behind her.
Rayna held her breath as he clasped the last few pearl buttons.
He touched her bare back, turning her to face him.
The dress had a modest shape, revealing only her shoulders and arms beneath the criss-crossed neckline. Still, Rayna felt naked under Terayan’s gaze.
“Are we ready to go now?”
“Not by a league. You may be dressed like a Kyrean courtier, but you don’t look like one. I said I wanted to reveal your identity when it suited me, but with that hair and face, there will be no mistaking you.” He took Rayna’s hand and led her to the next room.
A massive four-poster bed took up much of the room. Terayan led her to his vanity.
She sat on the stool and was faced with her own reflection.
“First, we’ll change that hair of yours.” He ran his hand through her damp red locks. They deepened to an indigo-black.
“No,” Terayan said, gazing at their reflection. “Your skin is too fair, I think. What about…” He ran his hand through again, and this time her
hair took on a shimmering blonde almost like Channon’s.
“Don’t look much like yourself anymore, do you? One last thing.” He snapped his fingers and her face changed.
The four-lined scar Channon had given her disappeared, as if it had never been there. Paint coated her lips and blushed her cheeks. Charcoal lined her green eyes.
Rayna touched her face. She did not look at all like herself.
“An illusion,” Terayan explained. “Though I could make the healing spell permanent.”
“No,” Rayna said. “You Kyreans are obsessed with appearances. Scars mean I’m strong.”
“Is that what that particular scar means?” He asked, a knowing gleam in his pale green eyes.
“I don’t feel the need to hide who I am, or what I’ve been through. Unlike you.”
“Oh? And what do you mean by that?” He stepped back to give her space to rise.
“You’re a Covenant Mage, aren’t you? Like Rhael and the Laevuls. They don’t hide their mage eyes, but you do.”
Terayan’s eyebrows knitted. “You know of the Covenant? Marielana explained it, I assume?”
“Actually, Rhael did.”
“Hm.” Terayan’s eyes flashed black-and-gold before returning to their usual, unassuming, mossy shade.
“You’re right. I hide what I am, but not because I’m ashamed. I prefer most of my rivals in Halmstead to see my abilities as a parlor trick. I want them to believe they know my motivations, so I dress the part.” He gestured to his doublet and the luxurious furnishings. “But the truth is, I don’t care about appearances anymore than you do, Rayna.”
“Then why act like you do?”
“To control someone, you need only know them. I preferred to keep my enemies in the dark, to let them believe I was a social-climber after wealth and prestige, while I pursued my true passions in secret.”
“A passion for dark magic?”
“Magic is magic, it’s what you do with it that counts.”
Rayna smoothed her dress. Despite his purported honesty, the more she spoke with Terayan, the more confused she became. “So you’re forcing me through all of this to show that you control me?” She shook her head. “You don’t know me, so by your own logic I won’t be controlled forever.”
“I know the most important thing. You tipped your hand when you moved heaven and hell to save your Channon Lyallt. You love him. You would do anything to be with him.”
“That isn’t a weakness.”
“It’s not, but it is your deepest truth. Now that I understand that, you're completely in my power. You will see what I mean soon enough.” He brought his hands to her neck.
To her shock, they closed around the Monil.
“I’m going to remove this. When I do, I expect you will not attempt to shift. If you kill me and I do not make an appearance at the ball, my men have orders to kill Channon and all of your friends. Do you understand?”
She nodded. Sweat beaded on her temple.
Terayan played the same sort of twisted games his pawn Rhael had. But she had won those games.
She would win this one, too.
The Monil released. Rayna collapsed in relief.
Terayan caught her.
She pushed out of his hold.
He offered his arm. “Shall we?”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kado pulled on the chain anchoring him to the vault’s flagged floor. The metal ring between the stones did not budge. He was trapped, as surely as the Monil around his neck trapped his wolf. With a frustrated huff, Kado fell to the ground.
Marielana had warned him. She had said Terayan would stop at nothing to lure Kado back to the capital.
Kado rocked back and forth, clutching his temples. Why did he not see through Terayan and the Laevuls’ manipulations?
Of course Isaac had been a trick.
No one would ever have treated him so kindly—no one but the Peninsulars he'd betrayed by leading here.
Now, Kado was trussed up like a goose at market, helpless to prevent the sacrifice that would grow Terayan's power.
He was going to die. After everything Kado had endured—Enzo Aronak’s betrayal, the arena, and his escape—this was how it would end. He would be killed to serve another’s evil purposes.
Even in death, he was still a slave.
But in truth, it was not his own imminent demise that made his skin crawl with self-hate. That, at least, would be over quickly.
No, it was the nefarious reasons for his death that had Kado pounding his manacled fists against the cold stones.
Terayan would complete whatever sinister quest he'd long pursued. Somehow, Kado’s death, the sacrifice of a god’s avatar on Osterna, would give Terayan immense power.
Terayan, the most vile creature Kado had ever met—a man he'd grown to hate even more than his wretched step-father—would be unstoppable, and all the world would suffer for it.
All the world, including Katrine.
Katrine. Kado blinked away his tears. What would she say to him if she were there? She would have the words to make him keep fighting. Despite all she'd endured, she still believed the world was good. He longed to see through her eyes.
Stop longing and start doing. Katrine's voice echoed in his brain. Get over this self-pity, and take action.
Kado had failed to save his mother.
He had stood by as Lonian had sacrificed himself.
This was his last chance to do something worthwhile.
He was the white wolf. He had glimpsed those powers when he used them to save Katrine.
Every time he'd tried to access them since then, he had failed. But now, failure was not an option. He had to unlock his abilities.
Kado took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, searching for the rune that would help him. But his mind was blank. There was nothing—no lines or shapes.
He shouted in frustration, screwing his eyes together so hard they ached.
Nothing but darkness.
Kado's chest heaved. What was different the first time he successfully used his power? He had been trapped then, too. Why were the shackles and Monil holding him now any different?
“Unlock!” he screamed, to no avail.
He had to free himself, or else he was worse than useless. He would prove himself the monster he'd always feared he was.
“Unlock,” he sobbed, holding his head in his hands.
He thought back to his escape from his cell at Krymammer. What had allowed him to access his power? It could not have been his rage or fear—he felt plenty of those as he struggled against his bonds. What else was there?
As much as he hated the lie Isaac represented, the old man had still taught him how to think logically. Here was one last riddle.
What triggered his abilities?
Kado pushed his mind back to the moments before he had discovered the unlocking rune. He remembered a desperate scream full of pain and panic.
“Katrine,” he whispered.
Last time, she had been there—an innocent about to die before his eyes. It had not been Kado's desire to escape—his fear, hatred, or need for revenge—that had given him the power to break down the cell door.
It had been his instinctual desire to help her, a stranger in need of aid, that focused his intention and powered the magic.
The white wolf—a hero with great potential for good.
But like all heroes, the white wolf's strength was not meant for him. It was meant to protect others.
Kado exhaled, centering himself.
Katrine and the others had come to help him. Despite all he had done to push them away, they had come.
Now, it was his turn to help them.
“Freedom,” he whispered the word. He willed away the cold steel's bite against his wrists. He forced himself to forget the dank, musty chamber around him. He thought instead of those he needed to help.
This time, the rune appeared in glowing tendrils before his open eyes. Bright filaments of light spiraled
from it, wrapping around his manacles.
They fell open.
But Kado was not free yet, not without his wolf.
The Monil burned against his skin, resisting his magic. It threw off more light as the runes etched in its black surface glowed white hot.
With a guttural roar, Kado pulled at the device, willing it to release him.
The Monil clattered to the floor in two pieces.
There was no time to waste celebrating. The Fenearens needed help.
Kado ran to the vault door, and turned the wheel until he could slip out into the tunnels.
Rayna kept the lightest touch possible on Terayan’s arm.
He led her through Tenavar Palace, a marble castle larger than Anhorde. Where Anhorde was dark, Tenavar was bright and airy. Though the servants' quarters and tunnels were a dim, depressing series of close spaces, the public areas were filled with windows and wall sconces. The gleaming white marble reflected the light, giving the illusion of more. Tapestries, paintings, and sculptures lined the walls.
As they descended from Terayan’s private suite, they encountered more and more people. There were guards, servants, and nobles.
Dressed in rich silks and bedecked in jewels of every shade imaginable, the upper-class men and women smiled and greeted Terayan warmly with murmurs of congratulations. Upon seeing Rayna, a few wrinkled their faces in confusion—they did not recognize this strange woman on their Councilor’s arm.
She stayed silent.
They came to a set of massive oaken doors, flanked by a dozen guards. The guards bowed in unison and only stood when Terayan motioned them to do so.
Two of the guards gripped the door handles, pulling them open.
Rayna gasped. She covered her mouth to stifle the sound, but Terayan’s mouth quirked with a smile.
“Impressed?” He asked.
The extravagance stretching before them didn't impress Rayna. It disgusted her.
When she saw the long tables overflowing with exotic foods, she remembered the peasants in the Lower City, struggling to fill their bellies. The lengths of furs and fine linens reminded her of the beggars trying to keep warm in rags.
The lords and ladies filling the enormous, domed ballroom inhabited an entirely different world than most of this nation’s people. As they danced, laughed, and flirted, not a single face betrayed anything but joy and satisfaction in their privilege.
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