Lifemarked (The Fatemarked Epic Book 5)

by David Estes

  Roan would fight, too. With sword if it came to it, but mostly to protect and heal his allies, his friends. He would save as many of them as he could. He might be the king of the west now, but he’d learned that a ruler did not sit back and let others fight his battles for him. He’d learned that from, of all people, Rhea, who was now walking toward him. She had Noura in her arms, and was gently tapping the baby’s back to burp her.

  “I heard the news. When do we leave, brother?” Rhea asked.

  Something in her tone gave him pause. “We?”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Rhea,” Roan said. “You must stay with Noura. I know there are wet nurses available, but nothing can truly replace a moth—”

  “I’m not leaving Noura,” Rhea interjected.

  “I don’t—I don’t understand,” Roan said, frowning. Rhea didn’t respond, watching him carefully until light dawned in his eyes. “You can’t mean…”

  “Noura is coming too.”

  Roan’s first instinct was to argue, to try to convince her to change her mind, to stay here with his niece where it was safe. He opened his mouth to do just that, but then closed it just as quickly. Yes, Noura was just a baby, but she was also fatemarked. Peacemarked. Thus far, each of the fatemarked had a purpose, for good or ill, each driving the fate of the Four Kingdoms forward toward…something. Everything hinged on their ability to work together to face the worst of them all.

  “All right,” he said.

  “All right?” Rhea squinted. “Are you feverish, brother? Shall I call a healer?”

  Roan shook his head. “I am the healer. And yes, I’m fine.”

  “No argument? No talk of duty and responsibility? No lecture? Ever since you became king, you’re losing your touch.”

  Roan laughed. “You will stay at the back. A dozen of the finest Phanecian guards will protect you and Noura. Understood?”

  “There’s my brother,” Rhea said. “But yes. Understood. Then again, you know me—I’m not exactly one for rules.”

  “Rhea.”

  “Yes, dear brother?”

  Roan could only shake his head.

  Eighty-Three

  The Southern Empire, Phanea

  Falcon Hoza

  Shanti sat on the floor in the corner of the cell, one knee up, elbow resting on it, her head cupped in her hand.

  Falcon watched her for a moment, wondering where she was, what she was thinking. If she even knew he was there, she gave no indication.

  The black tears on her cheeks were invisible in the shadows, which seemed to cling to her like a second skin.

  Falcon’s heart was heavy. He’d meant everything he’d said to her that day on the cliffs, but it didn’t change the fact that their friendship—and the more that he’d always hoped it could become—had been changed forever, altered in a way that he wasn’t sure was fixable.

  He cleared his throat, but Shanti didn’t react. “Shanti,” he said. “We’re leaving.”

  At that, her head jerked toward him and she shoved to her feet, moving quickly to the bars. “We are?” The hope in her voice was enough to break him in two.

  “Shanti…” he said, hoping he wouldn’t have to explain further.

  “Oh,” she said, closing her eyes. “Of course.” She backed away from the bars, slumping heavily onto the bed positioned against the wall.

  “I’m—I’m sorry.”

  Shanti stared at her feet. “You don’t need to be sorry. You’ve done nothing but try to help me. I’m the one who…” She trailed off, and Falcon had the feeling she was seeing the same images he was. Smoke and fire, shattered stone tumbling away. That look in her eyes, a mixture of fear, relief, and determination. In the end, determination had won the day, but now Falcon wasn’t certain that was enough to save her.

  He wished more than anything that he could whisk her away from this place, these lands, take her to some remote island where they could be happy. He blinked away the perfect hope-filled thoughts, for changing location wouldn’t change what she’d done. What she’d wished for. He wanted to say something to start the healing process. Something to help her while they were gone.

  But there was nothing left to say except, “Goodbye Shanti. If I return we will talk again.”

  She didn’t answer, only rolling onto the bed and turning away.

  “Help her,” Falcon pleaded. “At least talk to her.”

  Sonika’s dark eyes narrowed, making the black tears tattooed on her cheeks shift. The rebel leader and her Black Tears had only just returned from Calypso, travel-worn and weary, bearing dark tidings of a fight to the death between Raven and Viper Sandes. And her brother, Gat, who she’d gone to find, had decided to stay in Calypso. Falcon knew he wasn’t being fair, but he was desperate.

  “She tried to destroy Phanea,” Sonika spat. “I know you tried to make it sound like something else, but that’s what it was.”

  “She needs a friend.”

  “Then find her one. My friends don’t try to blow up my allies.” He’d heard this cold, uncaring tone from Sonika before, and he knew she used it to mask her true feelings.

  “I’m sorry about your brother,” he said.

  “I’m not. He made his choice.”

  “Please speak to Shanti. You can’t say anything harsher to her than what she’s already thought about herself.”

  “What’s the point?”

  “The point is that she’s still alive.”

  Sonika’s eyes met his, but he didn’t look away. She blew out an exasperated breath. “Fine. I’ll talk to her. But I won’t promise to play nice.”

  “I don’t expect you to. And thank you.”

  Eighty-Four

  The Southern Empire, Phanea

  Sonika Vaid

  Sonika hated being sad. Which made her mad. Ever since her parents had passed into the Void and she’d fallen apart, relying on her brother, Gat, to pick up the pieces, she’d vowed never to be that way again. Yes, she’d lost friends and been separated from Gat for many years, but none of that had broken her.

  If anything, it had made her stronger, each loss like a new piece of armor strapped to her body. She fought for them. For all of them.

  “Gat,” she spat, using his name like a curse. At first their reunion had been full of emotion, but then she’d seen what a fool he’d become. He was still that loyal-to-the-last man that he always was, but that didn’t change the fact that he was a fool. Viper Sandes was a snake of a woman, regardless of what she’d done for Gat. Still, Sonika couldn’t bring herself to hate the elder Sandes, not if she’d saved Gat’s life all those years ago. That fact frustrated her—she should be able to hate who she wanted to hate.

  “Shanti,” she said next, and it made her even angrier that her tone softened at the end. “Why?” Sonika knew her friend was hurting, perhaps more than she knew. Images flashed before her eyes, bits and pieces of memory. Subtle touches between Shanti and Jai, hidden smiles. How happy Shanti had been after the first time they’d lain together, practically glowing. Shanti loved Jai, she knew. His death would’ve been devastating.

  And I left. When she needed me most, I left.

  To find my brother, she reminded herself. Didn’t she deserve happiness too? For so long she’d strived to help others at her own expense. Yes, she felt happy each time she liberated another group of slaves, but was she truly?

  Finding Gat was supposed to make her happy. Then why did she feel more alone than ever?

  “Sonika?”

  She’d been so caught up in her own thoughts she hadn’t even realized Shanti had turned toward her from the cell she was being kept in. The cell. Like a common criminal. She tried to blow up the canyons, she thought. Where else were they supposed to put her? A grand suite?

  Still, Falcon had explained how Shanti had chosen a time when no one would be in the caves on the eastern side of the cliffs, how they’d found a significant amount of unused powder in her quarters, enough to actually blow up the canyons
. Shanti was hurting, and she’d done something mad, but in the core of her soul she’d tried not to.

  Shanti stood up from where she’d been sitting on the bed. Slowly, she made her way over to Sonika, gripping the bars lightly. “Did you find your brother? Did you find Gat?”

  Any anger fell away in that moment and the years vanished and they were back in that cave, less than a day after Gat had saved her life. They’d given each other black tears. Sonika had always thought she’d created them; but in truth, they’d done it together.

  Of course Shanti would ask about Gat first. Of course she would.

  The first tears Sonika had allowed in years bit at her eyes, but she reached up to brush away those that were already falling from Shanti’s. Her thumb lingered on the fresh, black one—the one for Jai. “Gods, Shanti, I’m so sorry. For everything. For not staying. For running off to find Gat when you were grieving. I just thought if I could see him again, if I could—”

  “I know,” Shanti said. “And I’m sorry for not going with you. I should’ve gone with you like I always have. I should’ve been there with you, and—”

  “Don’t,” Sonika said, hugging her through the bars. “Don’t put this on you too.”

  “Only if you won’t put my actions on you either,” Shanti whispered, her body shaking. “They’re mine. I accept them.”

  They held each other for a long time, sharing tears like the sisters they were. “I’m going to break you out of here,” Sonika said, letting the grit return to her voice.

  “Sonika,” Shanti said, meeting her eyes. “No, you won’t. Even if you do, I’ll stay right here with the door wide open.”

  “Then I’ll carry you out.”

  “I will fight you like a wildcat.”

  “I was always the better warrior.”

  “Try me,” Shanti said, and Sonika managed a laugh.

  “What are you going to do?” Sonika asked.

  “Face the consequences of my actions. I will accept them. That’s the only way I can move forward now.”

  “What if…” Sonika took a deep breath, forcing her voice not to break. “What if they execute you?”

  Shanti bit her lip hard enough to leave an impression but not break the skin. “Then I shall go to meet Jai in the stars.”

  Eighty-Five

  The Southern Empire, Phanea

  Rhea Loren

  Her younger brother was too smart by half, so Rhea didn’t have to say anything, just look at him.

  “You’re leaving me again, aren’t you?” he asked, a hint of frustration in his voice. “I can fight, too, you know. I’m not a child anymore.”

  “I know,” Rhea said. She tried to touch his arm but he flinched away. “But you are the future. I need you to be safe in case the battle goes awry. I need you to protect everyone we leave behind in Phanea.”

  Leo chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyeing her skeptically. “Truly?”

  “Truly. We are taking every other able-bodied man and woman. The children and elderly will stay behind. And you. You will be their protector.”

  She expected Leo’s face to brighten at that, but instead his expression fell. “What if I—what if I hide again?”

  “You won’t,” she said. “Not this time. This time you will fight, because you are my brother. You are a Loren.”

  He nodded, his jaw firming up. “I will fight. I will protect the others.”

  “If it comes to it,” Rhea said. “But I hope it doesn’t.”

  “Rhea?”

  “Yes?” This time, when she placed her hand on his shoulder, he allowed it. Baby steps, Rhea thought, feeling warmth spread from him into her.

  “Be careful. I want you to come back to me.”

  “Me too,” she said with a small smile. “Me too.”

  “You should speak to your sister,” Rhea said to Grey, kissing his neck. They were lying in bed, their legs folded neatly together like two interlocked puzzle pieces. Strange how two imperfect pieces can fit together perfectly, Rhea thought.

  “I’m not ready for that,” he said, nibbling on her earlobe. The sensation was driving Rhea to madness, and she retaliated by licking him. He arched his back slightly, exposing his neck more. An invitation.

  She took it, biting slightly as she devoured more and more of him, speaking between kisses. “It’s not…about…being ready,” she said. “It’s about…time. There’s…none left.”

  “Less talking, more kissing,” he said, his hand sliding down the thin silk shift she wore. His fingers found her hips, lingering for a moment before descending lower, skirting the edges where fabric met skin. Rhea released a small sound as they slipped beneath the shift. “And anyway, I don’t recall you rushing over to talk to her.”

  Rhea’s mind went fuzzy for a moment as they moved together. She was still too sore to let this go much further, but there was plenty they could do…

  She tilted her head back so her lips could find his, their tongues circling playfully, around and around, tasting, connecting. With Grey, it was never enough, and moments like this could only be made better if they lasted forever.

  Alas, they could not, and though Rhea was teetering on the point of no return, she drew herself back, regaining control. “By the gods,” Grey whispered, still grinding against her.

  “I can assure you, that was all me,” Rhea said slyly. She grabbed his hand and dragged it up to her lips, kissing each finger, sucking on the last one just to see his expression morph into one of pure delight. “And you are mine,” she reminded him.

  “I am,” he said breathlessly.

  “Until next time,” she said, laughing. “Now go talk to your sister.”

  He shook his head. “This is the evilest thing you’ve ever done to me,” he said.

  “Oh trust me, I can be way more evil,” she said, shoving him slightly. “Now go. And don’t forget to take your blade hand with you.”

  Eighty-Six

  The Southern Empire, Phanea

  Grey Arris

  Grey had taken a while to compose himself, going so far as to dump a bucket of cold water on his head. Still, the memory of Rhea lingered in his mind. Every time he was with her, he left feeling drunken.

  As soon as he saw Shae, however, he sobered up, thoughts of Rhea vanishing. As usual, she was with Erric, sitting close together almost like lovers, though he knew their relationship was something completely different, forged of magic and power beyond comprehension.

  He approached, and they both turned to face him. “Grey,” Shae said, sounding surprised. It broke his heart that she should be surprised to see him. That she would think him such a coward.

  “Can I speak to you? Alone.”

  “This concerns us all,” Shae said.

  “No, it doesn’t. This is between us. Please.”

  Erric looked at Shae and she gave a slight nod. He stood, pausing as he crutched past Grey. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything. I’m truly grateful for what you did for me.”

  “I know,” Grey said neutrally. “And I’m grateful for all the support you’ve given my sister.”

  Erric nodded and then departed. Grey waited until the sound of his creaking crutches died away before he spoke. Shae cut him off before he could stop. “Grey, before you say anything, I just want to say that it wasn’t about you or Rhea or…Noura. It was about trying to stop the Horde and saving the Four Kingdoms and I didn’t want to—” Her voice cracked and tears sprung from her eyes, but she soldiered on, each word fighting its way out. “I didn’t want to die, but I was willing to. I had to.”

  “I know.”

  “What?”

  Grey sighed. He’d been thinking about what he would say to Shae for a long time. So many of his thoughts were filled with righteous indignation and anger and betrayal, and a whole bunch of other fiery emotions. In the end, it had been Ennis who had changed his mind. Not by anything he’d said, but by the loyalty and commitment he had to his family—going all the way back to Knight’s End to sup
port his brothers even when he didn’t fully agree with them, even when they were making foolish mistakes. Ennis had persevered through so much, problems caused by everyone else—not by him—deflecting all the crap like he was made of iron.

  Seeing him the way he was now was a reminder of how quickly everything could change, how swiftly one could be destroyed.

  Grey was reminded that he’d not only almost lost his daughter, but he’d almost lost his sister too. He realized how hard the choice must’ve been. He realized that Shae didn’t want to die, even if it meant she could save the world. But he also knew she would, because that was who she was now.

  All these thoughts circled through Grey’s mind in an instant, coalescing into what he said now. “You don’t have to die. I might not be soulmarked like Lisbeth, but I know that. And I might not be halfmarked like you and Erric, but I can still support the fatemarked in the battle to come. I’m not swordmarked like Sir Dietrich, but I will wield my weapon against the enemy just the same. We will all march into battle soon, but none of us must die. Only the enemy does. The rest of us can survive.”

  “Grey…”

  “I’m not being naïve. I know that people will die. I might. You might. And I’m prepared for that. But we don’t have to die. Like Roan said, the fate of the Four Kingdoms doesn’t rest on any one of our shoulders, but all of us. Now give me a hug and watch out for my blade.”

  Shae stood and ran to him much like a younger sister would to an older brother. And though he knew she was wise beyond her years, Grey also knew she was still his baby sister and always would be. She needed him just as much as he needed her.

  Eighty-Seven

  The Southern Empire, Phanea

  Lisbeth Lorne

  Lisbeth didn’t need either the power of sight or her soulmark to tell her Sir Dietrich was watching her. Ever since their souls had entwined, she felt a greater connection to him than any she’d touched with her mark before.