Lifemarked (The Fatemarked Epic Book 5)

by David Estes

  “That bitch almost killed us all. She almost killed my daughter.” Rhea held Noura against her chest protectively. “Noura screamed when she heard the explosion.”

  Roan knew the real reason for the child’s scream, and it broke his heart. He glanced at Lisbeth and Sir Dietrich, the only other fatemarked in the council room besides the halfmarked. Roan hadn’t said anything about what Shae and Erric had tried to do. If Lisbeth and Sir Dietrich suspected, they gave no indication, content to listen to Rhea’s tirade.

  “What are you going to do with her?” Rhea demanded, when no one responded. Grey tried to put a comforting arm around her shoulders, but she shrugged it off, her eyes burning into any who dared meet her gaze.

  Falcon Hoza stood. “She is imprisoned awaiting trial,” he said. “She is in Phanes. She will be dealt with according to our laws.”

  “She tried to murder us all. What need is there for a trial?”

  Roan said, “Sister. Calm yourself. There are circumstances you are not aware of. Justice will be served, one way or another.”

  “What circumstances?”

  Falcon and Roan shared a glance, and then Falcon said, “She waited until the time of day when most of the inhabitants of the caves on that side of the canyon would be out conducting their daily business. And the fireroot packets she’d set contained less than half of what they should’ve if she was truly going to bring down the canyon walls. We found unused bags of powder in her quarters.”

  Rhea shook her head. “This is madness. We should be merciful to her because she wasn’t going to blow things up as much as she could have?”

  “He didn’t say that,” Roan said. “We are simply considering all the facts.”

  Rhea breathed deeply, and Roan could tell she was trying to control her temper. That is good, he thought. Maybe she has changed. When she finally spoke, her voice was lower, more controlled. “I refuse to accept—”

  “I have something else to tell you,” Shae said.

  Oh gods. Roan wanted to clamp his hands over her mouth, counsel her not to speak another word until Rhea had calmed down, but this was her secret to tell. Her’s and Erric’s.

  “What?” Rhea spat, annoyed at having been interrupted.

  “We tried to destroy the fatemarked last night.”

  Rhea’s jaw dropped open. Closed. Opened again. There was murder in her eyes. Beside her, Grey was no less incredulous. “Shae?” was all he managed to get out.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “We thought it was the only way to stop the Horde. We thought it was the right thing. We didn’t take such drastic action lightly.”

  “Spoken like a true martyr,” Rhea said, finally finding her voice again. “Tell me this: Why didn’t you go through with it? Why is my daughter’s heart still beating?”

  Shae looked at Roan, and Rhea’s gaze followed. “Brother? Something to say?”

  Roan sighed. This wasn’t going to help matters, but there was nothing for it. Truth was the only weapon he had left. “I stopped them.”

  Rhea’s lip curled into a sneer. “Let me get this straight. You stopped the halfmarked from killing all the fatemarked, and still had time to rush out to save Shanti from killing herself?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Falcon said.

  “You don’t speak,” Rhea said, aiming a finger at the emperor.

  “Yes,” Roan confirmed. “I did. And that was after I sent Bane out for information.”

  “Oh good, if Bane is helping, what could go wrong?”

  “Rhea, I know you’re angry…”

  “You think so? Brother, I know you are trying to save this world and be the Peacemaker and all that rubbish, but you’re surrounded by fools with their heads in the clouds. And I won’t be a part of it anymore. Leave me and my daughter out of your plans. Agreed?”

  Roan knew he had no choice. He couldn’t force her to cooperate. “Agreed.”

  Rhea stood, pressing Noura’s cheek to her chest, and stormed out.

  “How could you?” Grey said when she was gone.

  Shae said nothing, her head hanging.

  Erric said, “We weighed all the options. We tried to take the emotion out of it. What are several lives against thousands? What are our lives, any of them?”

  “That was our child. Our daughter.”

  Shae was crying now. “We didn’t know what else to do.”

  Roan held up a hand. Things were spiraling, and if he didn’t slow their course all might be lost. These were good people making impossible decisions. They weren’t communicating—that was the problem. All eyes fell on him. “I would die a thousand deaths to save the kingdoms…” he started.

  “Us too,” Shae said, and Erric nodded.

  “I know,” Roan said softly. “And Grey would surely die to protect his daughter.”

  “I would,” Grey confirmed.

  “But that’s not what this is about. This is about choice. All these years of war have been about our rulers seeking power and vengeance. The soldiers forced to fight have had no choice. Thousands have died because of the decisions of a few. That’s what this is all about. Even Bane gets that. I don’t believe people are born to hate. Hate is something taught and learned and passed down from generation to generation like an heirloom. But you know what? Each generation has a choice. They can clutch that bloody heirloom to their chest, clinging to its precepts, believing what it stands for. Or…they can cast it in the fire along with all the hate. We have a choice too: Whether to count on each other to come through, or to give up. I’m not giving up. Are you?”

  Grey said, “No.”

  Lisbeth and Dietrich looked at each other and shook their heads in tandem. Shae took a deep breath and shook her head. Erric followed shortly thereafter. “Then what do we do?” he asked.

  Roan met each of their eyes. “We fight. Even if the other kingdoms choose to sit back behind their borders and wait for the Horde to invade, we will not. We will ride out to meet them. We will defend the lives of the next generations, for this world is not ours, but theirs. It is the only gift we have left to give them. Our heirloom shall be peace.”

  Windy Sandes, who’d been sitting quietly and listening the entire time, finally spoke. “I may only be a scholar, but I will fight. There comes a time when we all must fight.”

  These words coming from the scholar sent a chill through Roan from head to toe.

  Sixty-Six

  The Southern Empire, Phanea

  Rhea Loren

  Rhea felt ill as she watched her child sleep.

  She felt a sense of tenderness and love, too, but mostly nauseous.

  I haven’t changed, she thought. Not really. She was still a selfish girl but in the body of a woman. She still made choices based on what she wanted and not the greater good. She still felt angry sometimes, like when she looked in the mirror. She didn’t want to feel that way, not anymore. She wanted to be a shining example for her sweet Noura, the motherly example she’d never had.

  When Rhea had first arrived back at her quarters, she’d laid her daughter down to sleep as gently as she could though she was brimming with boiling anger. She’d thought dark thoughts of murder, of killing all who threatened her daughter’s life: Shanti Parthena Laude, forcing her to ingest her own fireroot powder and then lighting her like a candle wick; Grey’s sister, Shae, and her halfmarked friend, stabbing them both through the heart; the Horde, all of them, dying beneath her sword. All dead in the name of Noura. Rhea had stormed from one side of the room to the other, resisting the urge to slam her fists against the walls, to break things. She’d ripped down several wall tapestries, however, and they now lay crumpled in the corner. Feathers were everywhere from the pillow she’d disemboweled. At one point, she’d picked up the small hand mirror, raising it high above her head…

  Memories had assaulted her:

  A broken girl, stripped of everything she thought was important to her, jagged scars cut into the flesh of her face, glistening with healing and tears. Despair
came first, but that girl hated feeling so weak, so broken, so she replaced that sorrow with anger. No, with rage, as cold as ice, as calculating as a viper intent on sinking its teeth into a hand and not letting go. Never letting go.

  The mirror had shattered so easily, and she knew her enemies would too. The shard was the perfect weapon, because none would notice or suspect one was missing as the mess was cleaned up. None would expect a scarred, shattered girl of being capable of murder.

  She was the underestimated one, and she relished that feeling of power and control.

  The memory had faded and Rhea stared at herself in the mirror. The face of a stranger looked back at her. Time, tragedy and trauma had aged her, darkening her eyes, giving them a hollowness borne of experience. She’d blinked, having realized she didn’t even see the scars anymore—or at least didn’t notice them the way she used to, when they were all she saw. She could even see the beauty beneath them, around them, in spite of them. Finally she’d seen what Grey still saw in her.

  She’d put down the mirror.

  Now, she could not deny the fire inside her, but she could control it. She was wiser, more experienced. Her old tactics—murder, betrayal, subterfuge—were no longer the only weapons in her arsenal. But she also could not deny that her daughter was fatemarked. No, she thought now. Peacemarked. Whatever that meant.

  Watching her angelic child sleep, Rhea was torn between the need to protect her and the desire to atone for her many sins, to do something good and right in the cause for peace, a cause her brother had given his entire life to.

  Neither choice felt wholly right. When she’d been queen, she’d made every decision with certainty, with resolve, letting none, even her trusted advisor, Ennis, sway her mind. Now, as a mother, she questioned every choice and the impact it would have on her daughter’s life.

  But what if the sleeping babe she’d carried in her womb for months was the key to peace in the Four Kingdoms? What if the marking painted only by firelight on her skin could make the world a better place for her to grow up in?

  Rhea closed her eyes, resigned to the decision she’d just made. Not to kill or to plot, but to live, to protect. Ennis had already left, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t catch him. Her duty was first to her child, then to her kingdom, and last to the Four Kingdoms as a whole.

  She was going to bring Noura home, to Knight’s End. Where she belonged.

  And she needed to go alone.

  I’m sorry, Grey, she thought as she began to pack her things.

  In a swift reversal of the earlier excitement, the palace was now still and silent, the night falling over it like a blanket.

  Rhea’s midwife hadn’t come to check on her, for which she was glad. It had allowed her to gather her things in peace, without forcing the woman to keep yet another of her secrets. She didn’t take much with her, just enough to complete the journey to the war cities north of the Bloody Canyons. She could resupply there, and then again once she was past the Southron Gates.

  Though she would be travelling with her child on the outside of her body now, she wasn’t afraid. She’d conquered armies, after all. Going home should be easy.

  She focused on keeping her footfalls light as she passed along the last corridor. Noura had balled her tiny fists and cried out when Rhea had picked her up, but then she’d gone right back to sleep, resting her cheek on her mother’s shoulder. Soon she would wake up hungry, and Rhea wanted to be well away from the palace by then.

  The final archway came into view, and beyond, the shadowy darkness of the canyons.

  What am I doing? Rhea thought, not for the first time. But the answer was the same:

  What I must.

  Yes, she was carrying her daughter closer toward the enemy, but only to protect her behind the impenetrable walls of Knight’s End. Led by Ennis, their armies would resist any siege, eventually driving the Horde away. Hopefully by then the other kingdoms would be ready to join the cause.

  And if Noura had a part to play because of her peacemark, so be it.

  She redoubled her speed, but jolted to a stop as a form stepped across the exit. Rhea inhaled sharply, but then let the breath out just as quickly when she saw who it was.

  “Brother,” she said.

  “Sister,” Roan replied, an eyebrow raised. His eyes flitted from Noura to the pack strapped to her shoulders. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “I’m leaving,” she said, not wanting to dance around things.

  “I suspected as much.”

  What? “You did?”

  Roan nodded. “Aye. You stormed out of the council, remember?”

  “Do you blame me?”

  “No,” Roan said. “The sister I first met would’ve done far worse. Let’s call it progress.”

  Rhea couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. “Look, I didn’t have a chance to say thank you. You saved my daughter’s life.”

  Roan nodded. “Shae and Erric thought they were doing the right thing. They were sacrificing themselves too, don’t forget that.”

  “You’re on their side?” Rhea felt her cheeks begin to warm.

  “I didn’t say that. I stopped them, remember? They were wrong. They’d lost hope in all of us. But I haven’t.”

  “Everyone left us. All our potential allies. Even Gareth and Gwen. Shouldn’t that tell you something?”

  To her surprise, Roan only smiled. “It tells me they are scared. It tells me that we’re not quite there yet, but that won’t stop me from hoping. The Four Kingdoms is worth hoping for, I have to believe that.”

  Rhea could see where this was going. “You can’t stop me. Noura might be marked, but that doesn’t mean she’s some magical solution to—”

  “I know. That’s not why I’m here.”

  She frowned, not understanding. Ever since she’d known Roan, he was determined to bring the fatemarked together, to learn their purpose, to carry the weight of the kingdoms on his own back. “Then why?”

  Something sparkled in his eyes. “Rhea, you’re my sister, even if we’ve barely just met. I’m here to wish you off. I’ve arranged horses and a guard to accompany you.”

  Her heart bloomed just a little, but she hid her emotions behind an even tone. “That’s really not necessary.”

  “Yes. It is.” Roan stepped forward and Rhea tensed. What is wrong with me? He kissed her lightly on the cheek. Why am I running from my own brother? “And though I don’t understand it, something tells me this is meant to be.”

  “Fated?” Rhea quipped, feeling comforted by his words.

  Roan smiled. “Yes. That’s the perfect word. Be safe, my sister.”

  “May we meet again,” she said. “And Roan?”

  “Yes?”

  “Please tell Grey I’m sorry.”

  Roan shook his head. “No.”

  “I—why not?”

  “Because you can tell him yourself. He’s standing right behind you.” Rhea froze. “I’ll give you some privacy. Farewell.”

  With that, he drifted through the archway and out of sight, leaving Rhea as still as a statue. For a moment, she considered running, but didn’t want to disturb Noura’s slumber.

  “Rhea,” Grey said.

  “I’m sorry.” The apology practically burst from her lips, tears welling up just as quickly. She knew it wasn’t a fair tactic to use, but it also wasn’t a tactic—not this time. No, Roan had brought her emotions so close to the surface there was no denying them.

  “Don’t be. Not ever. I’m just trying to understand. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She conjured a dozen lies before she could blink, but discarded them just as quickly. Grey had been kind to her when she didn’t deserve it. And he was the father to her daughter, a truth she could never reject. But that wasn’t enough to stop her, and for that she was sorry. “Because I didn’t want to hurt you.” She shook her head. Even that was a lie, because she knew slipping away in secret would’ve crushed him. “I didn’t want to see you hurt,” she clarifie
d, admitting her own selfishness.

  Finally, she turned around, and seeing him again sent a pang through her chest. He didn’t look angry, not at all, just…

  Disappointed. Which was worse. Far worse.

  “Grey, I’m—”

  “I know,” he said. “But you don’t understand. You don’t understand at all.”

  Something about the way he spoke gave her pause. “Understand what?”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Grey, you don’t have to say that. You don’t owe me anything. I’m not trying to force your hand, or make you beholden to me, or—”

  He reached up to cup her chin. “Rhea,” he said, and her mind went fuzzy, the rest of her thoughts lost forever. “I love you. Noura too. You are all I want. You are all I need.”

  “But your sister.”

  A half-smile formed on Grey’s lips. “She doesn’t need me anymore, if she ever did. She is stronger than I ever gave her credit for.” Rhea’s lips parted, but Grey continued before she could speak. “I’m not saying what she tried to do was right, and I haven’t forgiven her, not by a longshot. But I think I finally understand her, the turmoil she faces every day. Having so much power is a burden.”

  Rhea understood that as well as anyone. She nodded, but said nothing.

  Grey said, “And she has Erric now. They understand each other in the same way I want to understand you.”

  They were beautiful words and Rhea longed to cling to each one, to memorize them, to whisper them in the lonely hours of the night. But she could not. “Thank you, but—”

  “Words used to be just words to me, Rhea. I used them to get what I wanted. But not anymore. Now my words are promises. Promises I plan to keep. I will follow you and Noura to the ends of the earth and back again. I will descend into the burning fires of the first heaven and—”

  Rhea cut off the rest of his promise with her lips, her passion like a fire of its own, and she could feel his soul pressed against hers in the same way their lips were.

  When they broke apart she could tell he was as breathless as she. “That’s my promise,” she said. “Now gather your things. We have a long journey ahead of us.”