Page 6 of The Sundered Realms

She willed him to believe her just this once, made her expression resolved as she faced the representative of her government, which had evidently decided it could sacrifice everyone outside their own realm and her; made it determined as though she were committed to doing her duty and would prove they had nothing to fear from her no matter what.

It ought to be believable, given how much of her life she’d wasted trying to do exactly that.

Elder Omaqil inclined his head: acknowledgment. Her heart almost broke because that was the first from the people she’d been working her hardest for all her life, and it was for a lie.

“Then I leave him to you,” Liris said, which was cruel, and she thought she should have regretted it but didn’t.

She turned her back on them and left.

Liris had a secret.

She just had to make sure no one found out until she was too far gone to stop.

Liris returned to the corridor, but not for long.

If she played this right, she’d never have to trudge through these hated halls again.

She took a branching path that led not to the library and her notes, but to a garden in the inner courtyard, a vision of the rare green plants that would grow in this desert. All one way or another covered in spikes for an unforgiving climate, decorated with tempting, vibrant flowers.

Liris thanked the gods that her summons had come in the middle of the day, when the sun was at its most intense and no one would be out in the courtyard to see her.

Pulling off her sash and then her tunic, Liris wrapped each cloth around her hands as she made her way to one particular cactus that had been old even before the Sundering and was now significantly taller than even the arched dome of Citadel. Higher up than she wanted to dwell on now that she was bigger and probably couldn’t climb as quickly, one arm of the cactus grew in a perfect circular loop.

Liris pulled vibrant red petals off the flower buds and filled her hands with them.

They’d disguise her blood for a little while.

Liris took a breath, closing her eyes.

She was really doing this.

She was really going to expose her secret after all, in the worst possible way.

She opened her eyes and looked up, squinting against the glare of the sun at how far she had to go.

Liris put her first hand on the cactus and almost screamed. The desert didn’t forgive, and neither did Serenthuar. Gods, she’d forgotten how much this hurt.

No, that was a lie. It wasn’t just hope that had held her complacent all these years; it was also fear.

No time for that now. Her choice was certain pain or certain death. She could only come back from one of those.

Gritting her teeth, Liris put her second hand on the cactus.

Then she climbed.

The pain was a reminder of where she was now, and what she was leaving behind.

Serenthuar emphasized devotion above all, and Liris understood they couldn’t afford to lose their most talented people. She’d always felt guilty for keeping this secret, never sure if it really was a secret or a test of her discretion, but now she wondered if she was the first to need to escape.

Blood-red petals dripped away from her. Liris tried not to rush, her mind sharp and focused while her limbs trembled. Too fast and she could mangle her hands beyond repair, but she knew how to be careful, now.

Liris hadn’t always understood that the elders’ idea of devotion to Serenthuar was fixed, and her critical mistake had been letting them know she had ideas about change. She’d made sure she was too good to stop training, but she’d never overcome that one error.

Yet here they were, allying themselves with literal demons rather than risking a change to the status quo.

Liris hadn’t risked anything in too long. She’d grown so careful she’d allowed them to trap her.

No more.

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