Page 10 of Threaded

“I will go to Verith.”

CHAPTER4

Mariah’s fingers gripped the grooves in the stone, muscles straining as she scaled up the manor wall.

“Manor” was a generous term for Lord Donnet’s residence. It was multiple stories, sure, but it was unimpressive, long past its best days. Much like the rest of Andburgh.

Mariah couldn’t be more thrilled she was finally down to her final moments in this miserable town. Just this one last, teensy task, and she would be on her way to the capital.

From the capital, only the Goddess knew where her path would take her. She didn’t particularly care about her ultimate destination, as long as it was far, far away from here.

After the letter had arrived that morning, after she’d had her moment to allow herself to break, after her mother had shown her the blessing this letter truly was, she’d moved quickly with her father to pack everything she might need for her travels. It wasn’t much—she preferred to live light and pack even lighter—but soon, saddlebags stuffed to the brim with essentials were stacked beside the door to their cottage. The only thing Mariah didn’t have was a dress suitable to wear to this Choosing at the great palace in Verith, but she didn’t let that fact slow her frantic packing; they would have time once they arrived in the capital to find something suitable to wear.

They, because it was decided her father would travel with her. Not only would it be more convincing—no one would ask questions about a father traveling with his daughter to the capital on a summons from the queen—but it would give her some breathing room in her escape.

She could take her time, knowing the way out was being watched by friendly eyes.

Once the bags were packed and the horses readied, Mariah had said her tearful goodbyes to her brother and mother. The latter had gathered her up in a tight embrace, whispering the familiar words of endearment that had accompanied Mariah her whole life.

“I love you more than the stars in the sky, my light. Never forget that.”

Mariah could only answer with a choking sob. She squeezed her mother tightly, one more time, before she and her father had set off down the forest path, heading towards Xara’s Road, one of the Onita’s main thoroughfares.

That was when Mariah had told her father of their … detour, and what her mother had told her to do. Wex was less than thrilled; in fact, he’d turned grave and serious, gathering the reins of his warhorse in his hands, obviously ready to turn them around and head back home. But then he’d looked at his daughter, at the staunch look on her face, had seen the determination shining in her forest green eyes.

“I need to do this,” she’d said. “Mom needs me to do this. She cannot go another day knowing the last remnant of her father is rotting away in that place. We won’t ever get a chance like this again.”

Eventually, after a long stand-off, he’d conceded. Not happily, but he also wasn’t about to let his daughter attempt something like this on her own.

And so, now there Mariah was, easily scaling up the side of Lord Donnet’s manor, her father stationed in the trees just off the road, waiting to help her make a quick getaway once she had her loot in hand.

She would get that Goddess-damned dagger back. Would go into the depths of Enfara itself to get it back for her mother.

Not that this lord’s manor was anything close to the cursed pit of the gods.

She reached a window on the sixth floor, and with a soft nudge of her palm, it swung open on hinges, their whine high and soft. She hoisted herself up, throwing her feet over the ledge, and dropped as silent as a cat onto the polished tile floors.

It was no secret Lord Donnet kept his trove here on the sixth floor of his manor. He bragged about it often enough whenever he was in town, too sure of his status and hold over the town to be cautious. It never occurred to him that anyone would ever be so bold as tostealfrom him.

It was that same logic that led Mariah to believe his trove would only be secured by a simple lock and otherwise left unguarded.

Honestly, it was almosttooeasy.

Mariah glanced around the empty hallway, listening intently for any hint of sound. When she heard nothing, she began to silently inch across the floor, the hallway lit only by the light of the moons outside. She could just barely make out the outline of an old, oak door, adorned with a brass handle that was—sheknewit—outfitted with only a single keyhole.

Suddenly, male voices filled the corridor, and the faint gold light of anallumelamp grew at the far end of the hallway. With a soft curse, Mariah flung her body behind a great marble statue that squatted in the hallway, pressing herself as close to the wall as she could. She wore all black, even her face obscured behind a piece of black cloth, and was confident enough she wouldn’t be spotted that she allowed herself to peek through a hole in the statue to glimpse the newest arrivals.

The light grew brighter and, of course, Lord Donnet himself strode into view, flanked by two of his deputies. His throaty voice was loud, echoing harshly off the hallway walls.

“Well, it won’t be a girl from Andburgh. I can promise you that much.” Donnet’s words were tinged with unmistakable bitterness. “We have no Royals here. A new queen always comes from one of the Royals. But, regardless, it’s such a waste of time. To summon every unmarried, non-magic girl in the kingdom to attend a pointless ceremony? As if the queen even does anything beyond running the Solstice, anyway. She’s just as useless as her magic is, that’s for sure.”

Mariah’s ears pricked at the words, curiosity twisting in her gut. That wasnothingshe’d ever heard before. In schooling, it was drilled into them that the Queen of Onita was sovereign and supreme in her rule, the magic she bore a piece of the Golden Goddess herself.

Not that Mariah really bought into all that bullshit. But still, it was curious that Donnet seemed to have such a different view of the monarchy from what she knew.

Mariah watched Donnet as he slipped a thin key out from a pocket, inserted it into the door to the trove room, and stepped inside. That was also when she noticed his two deputies carrying a crate between, obviously leaden with the weight of gold and valuables stolen in the name of taxes. Mariah narrowed her eyes as the three men walked into the room, the door clicking softly shut behind them.

She didn’t fail to note the hinges on that door made no noise. It was almost as if Donnetwantedsomeone to steal from him.

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