The gate was watched by a single guard. Mariyah could not recall his name. Bartimus? He was newly hired, and patrolled outside for the most part. Both the narrow path she was currently on and the service road farther ahead spanning from the main entrance to the cliff overlooking the sea were well lit. The wrought iron gate, typically used for kitchen and various other household deliveries, was shut. The ward would need to be disabled before it would be safe to leave.
The moment the guard saw her approaching, his hand shot to the hilt of his sword. “No one is permitted beyond the gate at night,” he told her, his deep, gruff voice a perfect match for his menacing bearing. Though not as large a man as Bram, he was older and bore several facial scars that served to enhance his fearsome appearance.
Lem would be nearby, watching. She hoped he would not do anything rash. Quickly she held up her hands and put on her friendliest smile. “Bartimus, isn’t it?”
“Harmin,” he corrected. “And you’re not supposed to be here. I have orders…”
“Calm down,” she said. “Lady Camdon sent me.”
He eyed her suspiciously, hand still resting on his weapon. “And why would she send you?”
“How should I know? All she told me was that she wanted to see you in the west wing dining hall.”
It was clear he was not believing her story. She took a short step forward into the shadow of the eight-foot-tall fir trees lining either side of the path. “Look, if you don’t believe me…”
She turned away just enough to hide the movement of her hands.
“Is that lout coming or not? I don’t have all night.” It was Lady Camdon’s voice. And it sounded as if it were coming from the direction of the servants’ entrance.
“You see? I told you.”
It was all the convincing Harmin needed. “I … yes. West wing dining hall. On my way, my lady.” He set off at a quick jog.
Mariyah suppressed a laugh as the guard nearly tripped over his own feet hurrying down the next path. It would take him at least ten minutes to get there. Then a few more to realize that no one was coming. Plenty of time … she hoped.
“How did you do that?”
Lem appeared from between two firs, seemingly out of thin air.
“Glamor,” she replied. On seeing his confusion, she added, “It’s hard to explain.”
He started toward her but stopped in his tracks, his eyes fixed on her exposed ankle. “How did you get it off?” He wrapped his arms around her. “It doesn’t matter. Not right now. You can tell me once we’re well away from here.”
Mariyah met his gaze silently. The warmth of his body—the love she felt in his touch—it was maddening. She crushed her lips to his. She had not known what she was going to do. Not until this very moment.
It was Lem who pulled away. “We should hurry,” he said.
“I need to take down the wards first.” The absence of his touch, even in the brief time it took to step to the gate, was painful. She spread her arms. “Mepas ku deharuun.”
The ground just beyond the gate glowed with a faint blue light for a few seconds, then went dark, and the gate slowly swung open. Lady Camdon would know that the ward had been disabled immediately and would send guards to investigate.
Mariyah took Lem’s hands. “I want you to know—through it all, I never stopped loving you. And I never will. Not for a single minute.”
“I’m so sorry for what happened,” he said. “I know it’s my fault. But we’re together now. That’s all that matters.”
“No. I can’t go with you.”
If she had said that she despised the ground he walked upon, he could not have looked more shocked. He stared at her uncomprehendingly. “What? Of course you can. Don’t be afraid. I can get you out of Ubania.” He pulled her toward the gate, but she jerked her hands free.
“Listen to me, Lem. I’m not leaving. I have to stay here.” His agonized expression and confused, pleading tone threatened to rip her soul apart.
“I don’t understand. What’s stopping you?”
“I wish I could explain … just know that it is my decision. No one is forcing me to do this.”
“I will not leave you here,” he shouted.
“You must. Just like you left Vylari to protect me, it’s my turn to protect you. I cannot let you be a part of what’s going to happen.”
“What are you talking about?”
She took a step back. “The stranger. He didn’t come to Vylari looking for you. He came there for me. So please—if you love me, just go. Watch over Shemi. He needs you.”
“The stranger? What are you talking about? I can’t … I won’t leave you behind. Not again. Whatever is happening, we’ll face it together.”
She placed her hand on his cheek. He would, and she knew it. Lem would stand by her side while the world burned to cinders. He would lay down his own life without so much as a second’s pause. And she could not bear the weight upon her heart if he did. There was only one thing left to do.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, then moved away.
“No!” he cried out. “I won’t leave you.”
He reached out to grab her arm, but she twisted free. Already the sound of the guards could be heard exiting the house. Mariyah realized she wasn’t going to convince Lem, still in shock and denial, to leave the grounds before they were discovered.
In that moment, she did something she would have thought impossible. Running at him full tilt, she buried her shoulder into Lem’s chest, and with all of her strength, shoved his body through the open gate. Completely unprepared, Lem took the full force of the blow and let out a gurgling groan. The momentum was enough to send him crashing through and sprawling onto the road. Mariyah quickly shut the gate and raised the ward once again.
Even through the pain, Lem did not give up. He continued to look at her pleadingly from the other side. “I won’t leave you.”
“Run.” She could not bring herself to look into his eyes. “Please. Just run.”
Three guards were rounding the hedge, swords drawn. Lem struggled to his feet and staggered away, vanishing behind the trees on the far side of the road. Mariyah turned toward the manor.
“What happened?” It was Bram.
“Nothing. A deer wandered too near the gate, so I disabled the ward. It’s fine now. I chased it away.”
“I thought I heard—”
“There was a strange sound in the bushes. It startled me.” The smile she forced onto her lips was excruciating. The deep emptiness in the pit of her stomach threatened to rob her legs of strength.
Bram looked at her for a long moment, then motioned for the other guards to go back inside, ordering them to report the incident to Lady Camdon. “Come,” he said, offering her his arm. “I’ll take you back to your room.”
Mariyah knew that without help, she was about to collapse. She took Bram’s arm, allowing him to lead her back inside. The pain on Lem’s face would not leave her. And yet … the tears were gone. In their place was a dark, empty shell where her heart had been.
Bram, to his credit, could see her distress and was silent the entire way. Upon reaching her door, Lady Camdon entered the hall in her nightgown, hands planted on her hips and looking none too pleased.
“A deer?” she remarked, clearly not believing the story the guards had passed on.
Mariyah did not so much as look up. “Yes. A deer.”
She entered her room and, barely able to lift her feet, crossed over to the bed. Yet rather than lie down, she leaned her hands on the mattress and lowered her head.
I will not leave you.
Again and again Lem’s words persecuted her thoughts. They encapsulated the sheer depth of his misery and torment—as well as her own. She imagined actually hearing his heart fracturing into pieces.
Yet it had to be done. Evil was not defeated by good. No. It was defeated by people like Lady Camdon. Cold, heartless, ruthless people. Those without a trace of pity or love.
Pushing upright,
she stood in front of the mirror.
Her hair was in wild tangles and her cheeks red from the cold night air. “Yes, and people like you too,” she whispered.
The sight of her own reflection caused a blinding anger to rise. With a primal scream, she picked up a perfume bottle from the dresser and hurled it straight at the glass, shattering it to pieces. She let out another scream. This was not enough. She wanted to tear the whole world apart. Her fury continued to rise. What else could she destroy? Grabbing the dresser, she pulled with all her strength, sending it crashing to the floor.
The door flew open and Lady Camdon rushed in. “What’s wrong with you?” she demanded.
Mariyah ignored her completely. Stalking over to the wardrobe, she threw it open. Every dress, shirt, and jacket hanging within taunted her; all the things required to present herself as something she was not and never could be. In a renewed burst of rage, she tore at every last item of clothing, flinging their tattered remains about the room in feral abandon. How long this went on, she didn’t know. By the time she finally stumbled back, nearly everything she owned had been left in ruins.
Lady Camdon had stood in the doorway throughout, calmly watching and saying nothing.
Mariyah spun to face her. “I hate you! I hate this place. I hate…” She dropped to her knees. “I hate myself.”
“So you sent him away?” The woman’s voice was almost tender.
“Get out!” More than anything she wanted to weep. But her tears still would not flow.
Lady Camdon closed the door and knelt beside her. “Tell me what happened.”
“What do you care? He’s gone forever, and I’m still here. That’s all you want from me, isn’t it? To be strong and unfeeling like you. Well, congratulations, I did it. I destroyed the one thing in my life I have ever loved. Now I’m just like you wanted me to be. Are you satisfied … my lady? I’m broken. Just like you.”
“You may stop calling me my lady,” Lady Camdon told her. “Loria will do fine.” She cast her eyes at the floor in silent reflection for nearly a minute before speaking again. “Do you remember earlier today when I told you I had loved once?”
Mariyah looked up. Loria was looking back with an expression she had never seen on her before. Tenderness. Compassion. And it was genuine. Despite her pain, it was startling to see.
“I was nineteen and had just come into my inheritance. He was a young merchant I met while on holiday.” A faraway smile appeared. “He was so handsome. Deep olive skin, wavy black hair, and a smile that could make you blush from a mile away. I fell in love the first moment I saw him. You might find it hard to believe, but he fell in love with me too. Of course, I wasn’t the Iron Lady back then. I was just Loria.”
Seeing her this way, hearing the sincerity in her words, made Mariyah forget her own heartache. At least for a moment.
“I was so naïve. I actually thought we could be together.”
“Why couldn’t you?”
Loria sighed. “Because the world is cruel. It cares nothing about how someone feels. I was a noble and he a commoner. And that was the end of it.”
“So you just gave up?”
She gave Mariyah a sideways look. “In the time you’ve been here, have I ever given you the impression that I concede easily? No. I was like you are now, defiant and strong willed. I was not about to let people tell me whom to love. Unfortunately, my brother had other ideas.”
“You have a brother?”
“I did. He was a year younger and none too pleased that I had inherited the family’s wealth. Fortunately, my mother outlived my father and saw to it that I was given control of our holdings. She knew Alimar would squander it all. He wasn’t a very bright boy, and even from a young age had developed some … let’s call them expensive habits.”
She paused briefly to give a sad shake of her head. “Needless to say, the possibility of my marrying into another noble family was foremost on his mind. When he learned of my relationship with Carlo, he was furious. It didn’t matter a wit that he bedded every wench stupid enough to believe his lies or greedy enough to spend his gold. I was the only daughter—the one expected to increase our family’s standing through marriage. That was my duty.”
“How did Carlo feel about it?”
“He was as naïve as I was. He believed our love was powerful enough to change the ways of the world.” She lowered her head. “Sweet boy. He couldn’t see the storm coming. Neither could I. Not until it was too late.”
“What happened?”
“My brother had him killed.”
“He did what?”
Loria’s jaw tightened as more tears fell. “When he discovered that we planned to wed in secret, he hired an assassin to murder him.”
“Sweet spirits of the ancestors. I … I’m so sorry.”
She smiled over at Mariyah while wiping her eyes. “It was a long time ago. I’m no longer the young girl I was. But I must admit there are times when I wonder what my life would have become had we wed.” She laughed softly. “Most likely we’d have been driven from Ubania, one way or another.”
“And your brother? Where is he?”
“Dead. Killed by the hand of the same assassin he hired. And yes, I was the one responsible.”
“You had your own brother killed?” Though Mariyah knew it should not be, the confession was still surprising to hear.
“Yes. I hated him for what he did to Carlo. But that was not why I did it. Well … not entirely.”
“So why did you?”
“In a single word: security. I was not about to be married off simply to increase my family’s wealth and position. So long as my brother lived, even though I controlled the family’s holdings, he still possessed the power to force me into marriage. Not as a matter of law. But he could have found a way to have me stripped of my title and position should I refuse.”
“I don’t understand. How could he have done that?”
“Simple. Petition the Archbishop and claim me to be incompetent. If he succeeded, he would gain control over all matters of finance. I would remain as head of the family, but in name only. Refusing a socially advantageous marriage would be used as evidence against me. My affair with Carlo would have been seen as impulsive, easily dismissed. But failing to increase our holdings through a union … that would be thought of as irresponsible beyond measure.”
Mariyah’s expression was one of pure disgust. “What kind of world is this?”
Loria cocked an eyebrow. “You thought the common folk are the only ones who suffer under Ralmarstad law and bigotry? My dear, outside these borders, people are free to live as they choose. But here we are not so fortunate.”
“Then why do you stay?”
“Where should I go? This is my home. If people like me abandon it, what do you think would become of those left behind? Those unable to fight for themselves? It has taken most of my life to elevate myself to the point where I have any hope of changing things. As I told you before, evil is defeated through strength and conviction. I refuse to run.”
“I … I understand. At least, I think I do.”
“I want you to know that I am truly sorry you were forced to choose between what is right for you and what is right for the world. But if I did not think you had the strength, I would tell you to leave this instant and chase after him: to go live your life and let others do the fighting. Sadly, as painful as it might be to hear, you are like me. Maybe not in every way. But we bear the same curse: strength. We fight so others have the chance to live … and love.”
Mariyah noticed that the pain she’d felt only a few minutes ago, though not completely gone, had dulled considerably. “Thank you, my lady.”
“I thought I told you—it’s Loria when we are alone.”
“Loria, then.” She met her eyes. “I have to ask: Why tell me all this?”
Loria rose to her feet and offered a hand. “Because I learned something tonight that I’ve wondered about since the day you arrived.”
Mariyah allowed herself to be helped up. “What’s that?”
“That you will not give in. Not even to yourself. We have a long and dangerous road ahead of us. I’ve prayed to Kylor to send me someone like you, someone who can see this through to the end. There are few people in this world to whom I give my trust. You are now among them.”
Mariyah felt a wave of affection that she would have previously thought impossible. Were they now friends? Perhaps not yet. All the same, something had irreversibly changed between them.
“Come,” said Loria. “You will sleep in my room tonight.” A good-humored smile rose. “Yours is quite a mess at the moment.” As they started to the door, she added, “You never know what the future holds. Perhaps one day, when this is over, you can still be with your love.”
Yes, thought Mariyah. There was still hope. She would allow it to salve her wounds. Lem was alive, and so was she. So long as this remained a truth, hope would be her banner and her battle cry. With hope, she would destroy Belkar.
And then she would find the peace and love she yearned for … and deserved.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My loving wife and son, Eleni and Jonathan Anderson. Hunter, Sarah, Elle, Donna, and Gerald Anderson. George Panagos. The Di Battista family. The Ramos family. My agent, Laurie McLean, and her team at Fuse Literary (it took some time, but here we are). My editor at Tor, Lindsey Hall, for believing in my work and taking the leap. Devi Pillai, for the wisdom to hand Lindsey the manuscript in the first place. Felix Ortiz, for his amazing talent and creating the perfect cover. My indie editors, George Stratford and Dorothy Zemach. Helen Paton and her family, especially Kristie. Michael and Robin Sullivan—thanks for the advice and for letting me shoot bows in your front yard. James Inman and his parents, Mindy and Tom. And to everyone who reads fantasy and keeps the genre alive and strong through your patronage and love for the fantastical. Without you, the world would lose its magic.
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