“Who are we to believe did this to her? A spirit?” I hear the testiness in Liriene’s voice.
“I couldn’t see.” I begin. “I couldn’t see a thing. I heard a girl screaming for help. I was not myself. I was her. It was her hands that did this. But through a dream?”
“What you describe is more than a dream, but no less than I expected,” Ivaia answers again. “A channeling.”
“That’s preposterous!” I hear my father.
“Is it?” Ivaia retorts. “Look at her.”
“I heard the voices of the Gods, not just Mrithyn. All at once. Speaking the ancient tongue.” I shudder. “I couldn’t hear myself think or scream above their voices in my head.
“Is this possible? There’s only ever been rumors of these things happening,” Riordan’s voice joins.
“It seems more real than rumor,” Ivaia sounds like she’s shrugging.
“Feels pretty damn real too. But who was channeling me? A blind child with the voices of the Gods in her head. And a pet wolf.” I leave out the part about the Man.
“The child Oracle, newly blind, perhaps?” Indiro reasons. It makes total sense now, but what doesn’t make sense is…
“Why? Why would she connect with me? She does not know me.”
“I understand it as much as you do, dear.” Ivaia’s voice softens. “She didn’t connect only your minds, she was inside of you. The Gods may be trying to reach you through her. Or you in her. Or both.”
“Mrithyn has direct access to my mind at all times I am asleep,” I add.
“Then it was not Mrithyn," Silas says.
“What God communicates through pain and fire?”
“Perhaps it wasn’t a God at all, but the child herself seeking a familiar.” Indiro says.
I fold my arms across my chest as the room falls silent. “How did you all get here, and how long was I unconscious?”
Silence persists.
“Hello?” I shout.
“Two days.” My father says.
“Keres, do you remember coming to my house?” Ivaia asks.
I think back to the last thing I remember. Darius. “I remember coming but not arriving.” I say.
Ivaia speaks like she’s weighing her words. “A… passerby found you. Brought you to my loft.”
“How fortunate,” Silas laughs under his breath.
“For the better part of a day, I tried to rouse you. When I determined I couldn’t help you alone, we brought you here. Your father tried to use his herbs to entice you from your stupor. You were breathing, your heart was beating. But you were gone.”
“I came to inquire after you, lass. You can only guess my shock to hear you were in a deep sleep you would not awake from,” Indiro says.
“When I arrived, you were screaming. You were kicking your feet at nothing and crying about them burning. You looked like you were dancing in flames. Then scratches started appearing on your ankles. Then your face and your eyes,” Silas says.
“It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. As if the next world was ripping through your skin to come into this one,” Ivaia says. “I tried my best to wake you with magic, but something was holding you beneath the surface of your innermost mind. Only when it released did you wake up.”
“When Osira decided,” I whisper. I blink my eyes open, fighting back the tears from the pain of doing so.
“You should rest.” Ivaia protests.
“If my eyes were closed for two days, I want them open,” I say.
The first face I see is Silas; a snarl on his lips. “And how should we fix her face for the wedding?” He shoves a hand at my appearance.
“We will manage it,” Liriene replies.
“The wedding?” I spit back at him. “That’s your only concern!?”
He crosses the room in long vengeful strides and takes me by the shoulders. “You know full well it is not all I am worried about.”
He spins to address the entire room. “I caught her in an act of passion with my comrade.”
Indiro mutters a curse under his breath. My father’s face crumbles in shock, and Liriene casts him a horrified look. Ivaia and Riordan both look to me, more out of concern.
“She thinks she could escape our betrothal by laying with another.”
“I did not lie with another man,” I growl.
“I saw you! Down by the river.”
“We both know what happened by the river.” I bite back.
“Tomorrow,” He spins back to my father. “I will make her my wife tomorrow.”
“Don’t you think this spiritual battle is more important? I’m going to the Ro’Hale Kingdom to visit Osira. If she’s looking for a familiar, channeling me, or whatever is going on, she obviously needs to speak with me.” I gesture toward my eyes.
He wants me to stay and marry all my problems away? Silas aimed a crossbow at me. Just shamed me in front of my entire family. Now, he demands I wed him tomorrow.
I growl with frustration. “Fuck!”
“Keres! Watch your language,” My father says.
I throw my hands up. I feel ashamed of my behavior with Darius now. Ashamed of my growing feelings for him. Or my feelings about the fact that he wasn’t chosen for me. I chose him. But I don’t know what I’m doing.
There’s so much more going on in the world than Darius, Silas and I. Things I don’t even understand. Although I feel frightened to think I have a purpose beyond this clan, I’m exhilarated and relieved by the thought of walking away from it all. Marrying someone I do not love terrifies me more than the thought of being attacked or channeled by the Gods. I yearn for purpose beyond being the midwife of the dying. Beyond being Silas’ wife.
“I don’t want to marry you, Silas.”
“You have no choice,” He grits out, turning his honey eyes on me with a hunger and hurt I’ve never seen before. Does he have feelings for me, or is this mere possessive jealousy like I once felt for him? Where is Darius? I can’t even ask. All their eyes aim at me. I can’t stand it. I’m itching to run out the tent entryway.
“Come, Silas” Indiro interrupts. “I will help you prepare for the wedding.” Indiro plants a firm hand on Silas’ shoulder and leads him from my home. Liriene tosses the bloodied cloth into a pile of clothing to be washed. Riordan and Ivaia exchange glances; a silent conversation.
“I’ll be outside. Kaius, I desire to speak with you,” Riordan says. My father and uncle exit, leaving me with Liriene and Ivaia. The two most bitter women in my life. None of us speak. Liriene is the first to sit at the table, followed by Iv and then myself. The silence grows thicker. The likeness in our blood heats and cools as our words boil in our heads. Liriene is furious with me for fighting the humans a few days ago, and for our contention over Katrielle. Ivaia is still by hurt by me renouncing her God. Well, she thinks I renounced Him.
“The Coroner hunted again,” Ivaia breaks the silence, leaning back in her chair. Her blond hair is frizzy from the humid air, and her sheer blue gown shifts off her shoulders. Liriene watches the movement, eyes widening as she notices she can see through our aunt’s dress. Her dark pink nipples standing hard against the thin tulle fabric. I watch Liriene swallow her words.
“Aye.” I nod, remembering my regrettable attack on Thaniel and Mathis. I glance at Liriene.
“They also say the Goddess bleeds,” Ivaia’s mouth quirks up.
“They say many things.” I nod.
“Bested by the King of the Gryphons, Arias.”
I flinch at the mention of his name. It’s true, my pride still stings.
“The Sunderlands is in tatters. Its Coroner renounces her duty. Heralds come down from the heavens, talking of war. I open my door and find a boy holding what appears to be your lifeless body.”
“Who?” Liriene chimes in.
“Darius, I think he said his name was.” Ivaia smirks at me.
Liriene scoffs, “It’s true.”
I slap my palm to my forehead. Of course, Silas told her what happen
ed by the river— or at least his version of it.
“Who is this Darius character? The one Silas accuses you of ruining yourself for? He offered me no explanation of himself, just that you were together when you collapsed.” Ivaia opens her arms.
Liriene shares a look of disdain with Ivaia, “Penance of Massara, son of Darius of the Ro’Hale Kingdom. Born to two drunks, him and his twin brother, Hayes. His brother was killed in the last attack on our people.”
“Penance?” I ask.
She shakes her head at me. “Wise choice,” her voice drips with sarcasm.
“Doesn’t matter,” Ivaia swats away Darius’ other name. “You’re still marrying Silas. You still need a knight.”
“For once, I agree with you, Aunt.” Liriene lifts her chin.
Ivaia glances over Liriene’s slight frame. Her red hair and bulging gray eyes do little to impress the sorceress.
“You think you’ve a say, girl.” Ivaia snaps at Liriene. My sister shivers. This will be entertaining.
“You may have trained her in your indelible ways and that of magic, Ivaia. But I was the one who bathed and nourished her. You gave her a doctrine, and she lived by it. I gave her life.”
“Watch your tongue, bitch.” Ivaia leans across the table. “Your mother, my sister, gave her the very air in her lungs. You’ve only done a shit job at maintaining it.”
Liriene bites her tongue. I cannot suppress the smile that quakes in the corners of my mouth. I’ve been waiting for this argument for years. They’ve always hated each other, but never faced each other.
“And you!” Ivaia jabs her long slender fingers towards me. “Your lack of control without me that night earned the retaliation of the humans against Hishmal. An entire settlement of Elves— wiped out! Because you cannot control the power the Gods gave you. I’ve been trying my best to help you, to teach you. And how do you repay me? You renounce Elymas. You make a poor example of yourself in the forest with those warriors. Your kinsmen. You tried to kill one of your own!” She stands from the table, hands pounding on the wood. “Damn me if I raised you to act this way! I have given you every tool you needed to manage your abilities, to practice, to take a stand against our enemies. I never treated you like a child, Keres. But you continue to act like one.”
My lip trembles at her words and to my dismay, tears burn my eyes. “And now your husband to be, before your father, slanders you and denies your maidenhood!”
I stand up, matching her stance but no words come out of me. I feel powerless before her.
“You are totally out of control!”
My hands ball into fists as I bite my tongue.
“Do you think you love Darius? Do you think you know what you want? What about what you need?” She comes around the table, getting in my face. “I will prove you wrong and end this dalliance!” Her power glows like the hottest fire in her blue eyes.
“He doesn’t matter,” I choke on the lie.
“You think he is worth going against your family’s wishes? You want to end up like me?” Her words shock me. Liriene is standing now but doesn’t dare move.
“I turned against my family, and everything I had, to be with Riordan. I got myself banished by my own sister. To chase wild fantasies. I ruined my reputation, my honor. And by the Gods, I will love him until I die, but I ruined myself for him! No woman should ever, under any circumstance, ruin herself for a man.”
I hate when she yells.
“And you throw your body at the feet of a man who owes you nothing. Have you no shame? No honor? No respect for who you are and how I raised you?”
“Stop,” The tears spill out of my eyes.
“Keres, you will go to the kingdom and you will meet with the Oracle. In two days hence. Tomorrow, I am giving you to Silas myself! Clean up your face as best you can and get your shit together.”
“I was coming to you to reconcile,” I finally get something out.
“To come apologize for your foolish choices with me, you bring another one of your foolish decisions?”
“I didn’t say to apologize—”
She growls, but I cut her off. “I don’t apologize for being who I want to be or doing what I want to do!”
Darius is the one who taught me those words, and the thought of him gives me courage to say them with conviction. With that, I stomp over to my side of the tent to pack my things.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Liriene tries to stop me.
“I’m done. I’m not listening to either of you. I’m tired of being told what to do. I’m going to court, as I’ve been saying.”
“You can’t disobey your husband.”
“He’s not my husband. But even if he was, I would rather answer to my calling than to him.”
“Your calling?” Liriene asks.
“King Arias gave me a task. A purpose. I’m going.”
Ivaia’s at her side, reinforcing her efforts to stop me. That feeling of being too small creeps up on me again as they unpack everything I throw into my rucksack.
“Keres, stop. Liriene, get the papers.”
Liriene is gone in a rustle of skirts and red hair. Her fingers flutter through a chest beside her cot.
“What?” I stop packing.
Ivaia stops unpacking. “Your duty is to no king in the sky, girl. But to your own blood.”
“The rights to you.” Liriene produces a thick piece of paper, folded and sealed by a wax seal. She breaks the seal and reveals my mother’s handwriting.
“The rights to me?” I spit back at them, flinching as Liriene attempts to hand me the letter.
“What does it say?” I ask.
“I don’t know, I cannot read, remember? I only know what it is.” Liriene pushes the paper into my hands.
“It says Resayla appointed us as your guardians, with the right to give you to Silas,” Ivaia says.
I read the delicately written words and find the cruelest truth:
I, Princess Resayla Kalendyrra Aurelian, daughter of Adon Aurelian, King of Ro’Hale, offer my youngest heiress, Keres Nyxara Aurelian of Ro’Hale, to Ser Solas and Lady Seraphina Prycel of Ro’hale, as a gift to their son, Silas.
A bride to be his by promise, an heir to the Mirrored Throne, by blood right.
A royal descendent of the Aurelian bloodline, Keres requires a trained knight and a descendent of the order, the Legion of Ro’Hale, which Silas will be groomed to be for her as her husband.
To come into her power and claim her right to the throne of her ancestors, Keres must accept the hand of the Knight appointed her in marriage.
If I cannot deliver my daughter to her betrothed when she comes of age, I charge her fate to the hand of my sister, Ivaia Jada Aurelian of Ro’Hale; with allowances also to my husband, Shepherd Kaius Lorien of Clan Massara, Ser Indiro Avalon, my dear and faithful knight, and to Lady Seraphina, my closest companion and the mother of Silas.
If none of these should be her Guardian, I charge Master Emeric Dracon of Falmaron to ensure her safety and care.
If Keres should refuse these terms, she is to be cut off from her inheritance and birthright forthwith, and never to return to the kingdom of her mother’s birth.
Any child born of Keres and a mate not appointed by her guardians, shall also lose their birthright to the throne.
If all Aurelian heirs are illegitimate, the next heir in line will be of another bloodline. Not of my firstborn, Liriene Hadrianna Lorien of Clan Ro’Hale, nor her descendants.
I stop reading the letter damning me to marry Silas, damning me if I don’t.
“Indiro, your father and I have sworn to fulfill this final duty to your mother,” Ivaia adds. “To give you to Silas, the knight of her choosing.”
“So, what am I, property to sell? Cattle?” Anger stifles all the tears that had threatened to well up.
“You’re his. By law.”
“By your law!” Without a second thought, I run to the firepit and toss the letter into the flames. Ivaia’s magic br
ings it back out before it’s burned to ashes and she puts it onto my bed. I begin to smolder with anger.
“You will not understand these things now, but in time you will. I will tell you the truth and explain it all. For now, you need to trust us. What we’re doing is for the best. We have always done what's best for you. Your head is so far up your melancholy ass you can't see it!”
“I have a hard time believing that,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
Liriene makes a tsking noise, “Yes, little one, we expect you do." A pretty frown takes over her mouth. "It is better this way, trust me.”
"You're not going anywhere but to the wedding altar." Ivaia dumps out the rest of my packed belongings on to the bed and that’s final.
15. THE WEDDING
I sit on the bank of the River Liri, clutching my knees to my chest. Has it been really two days since I was here? With Darius. I shove bread into my mouth.
The water talks to me in its slippery drawl. Starlight drowns in the dark churning water and resurfaces. The pace of the river steals all my energy; its babble replaces my thoughts. Blood whooshes over my bones the way the water rushes over the rocks, foaming white in places. I think of the letter written by my mother and feel that foam in my mouth.
“How could you?”
A silent stillness in the depth of my heart ripples. A memory stirs, swimming to the front of my mind. I close my eyes and see a woman. Blond hair splayed around her face underwater. Her eyes pinched shut, her lips pursed, holding her breath. That exquisitely sad face pressed up against the surface of the river as if it were glass. Hands banging against the invisible force keeping her beneath the water. Her eyes shoot open, wildly pleading for the river to release her. Her mouth opens in a silent scream, pining for air, and the water fills her lungs.
Her eyes are closed; her face is placid. Her hands drift above her head. She sinks into the dark of the river water.
I pick up a nearby rock and throw it in the water with all my strength. Pushing up to my feet, I find another and chuck it. I stone the water until I sink to my knees. How could she die and leave me to them? Watching the river drains me and I fall asleep.
The Sunderlands Page 15
