Page 9 of Threaded

She could not evade thequeen.

“Be careful what you wish for, I suppose.” Her voice dripped with ravenous anger.

Mariah let whatever it was bubbling up deep inside wash over her, pushing her to her feet and out of the house to the field and training pitch beyond.

* * *

Lisabel Salis watched as her daughter hacked away at the oak training dummy with the ferocity to rival a wild Kreah desert sphinx. Such raw emotion and desperation existed within Mariah, though she hardly ever let it show. Ever since her daughter’s birth, Lisabel had known something untamed and inherentlyfreeexisted in her daughter’s soul, something that would always call her away to a life bigger than their simple existence at a crossroad city in the center of the kingdom.

She’d told her daughter as much the night before. Had needed to speak those words to Mariah before she left, finally free to chase what she’d always sought.

She knew what Mariah feared most wasn’t just being stuck in Andburgh; it was being caged.Anywhere. To be told what to do by someone who wasn’t her, told who to be and how to act and to have her free will drained from her body until she was nothing more than a husk of herself.

Her daughter was still so young. She feared so much.

There was so much she didn’t yet understand. So much Lisabel ached to tell her, but could not. Not without risking Mariah’s life, the life of her family, everything on this continent she held dear.

But, what Lisabel did know, and what she could do, was get Mariah to listen. To trust and have faith and realize the gift that had just fallen into her lap.

Far easier said than done. Her daughter wasn’t known for being easy to reason with.

A soft sigh pushed past Lisabel’s lips as she finally raised her voice. “Mariah. That’s enough.”

Her daughter froze at the sound, the muscles in her back and arms tense beneath her gray sweater. She still gripped her sword, poised over her head, the blade frozen at what would have been another strike against the well-beaten oak dummy. Slowly, Mariah let her arms and her sword drop until both hung limply by her sides.

“Look at me.” Lisabel’s voice was soft yet commanding. She held herself as tall as she could, gathering the poise of her years to her as she prepared to face her daughter at her most unsteady.

Her daughter slowly turned to face her, her sword still dangling from her fingertips, her posture tense like that of a caged animal backed into a corner, ready to either fight or flee. As those forest-green irises flashed up to meet her stare, Lisabel swore she saw somethingsilverand other glint in the gray lining the rich green.

A chill raced up her spine, and it was only her years as a healer that kept the hair on her arms from standing on edge.

Not now, she thought.Get her out of Andburgh. By any means necessary. That is all that matters now.

“You have to go to Verith, Mariah.”

Those forest eyes flashed silver again.

“Why.”

The voice that came from her daughter’s mouth was harsh and unforgiving, matching the tenseness in her shoulders. Mariah continued to hold herself utterly, eerily still, her only movement the gentle morning wind lifting the near-black strands of her hair around her face.

Lisabel drew in a steadying breath. “Do you remember our conversation from last night?”

A nod.

“Thatis why.” Lisabel took a small step forward. “I told you; I want you to leave. That this place has never been for you. And I meant it.” Another step forward. “I also think you know that the biggest hurdle to your departure was always going to be thewhy. The excuse. The reason that would allow you to vanish from this place without the others in town wondering where you had gone, to keep them from coming after you and trying to bring you back.”

Mariah blinked, and her shoulders dropped almost imperceptibly. Lisabel could almost see her mind working, piecing together what her mother was telling her as the eddies of her emotions slowed and slowed.

Lisabel used that as her chance to stride the rest of the way down the stone walkway until she stood face to face with Mariah in the center of the training pitch. Her daughter was taller than she was, and she now had to tilt her head up just slightly to take in her face, skin tanned burnished gold after the summer spent training outdoors, eyes a deep, rich green rimmed in gray like a dense fog guarding the entrance of an ancient forest. She reached her hands out and tucked the dark strands of her daughter’s hair back behind her ears before cupping Mariah’s cheeks in her palms.

“You have to go to Verith,” she repeated, softer this time. “Don’t you see? That letter may not be what you wanted, but it is your way out. Do not miss that chance … because you might not have another. Especially not one so simple. Go to Verith, attend this Choosing, and then you will be free and in the capital. You can board a ship and go anywhere in the world. It is everything you have ever wanted, my light.”

Mariah closed her eyes, inhaling once, before releasing a great, shuddering breath. Lisabel could feel the otherworldly wildness that had consumed her daughter mere moments before retreating, not away, butintoMariah, settling itself with her daughter’s very essence before vanishing from Lisabel’s senses. Mariah reopened her eyes, and when she looked again at her mother, her gaze was no longer filled with rage and fear, but with understanding and resolution.

“I understand,” Mariah whispered, and Lisabel smiled. She dropped her hands from her daughter’s face and took a step back, aware of her husband and son watching the exchange from the entrance to the training clearing. She held her daughter’s gaze, watched those forest green depths fill with resolve as her eldest child, the girl who’d always belonged to the dark and wild corners of the world, decided her own fate.

Mariah lifted her chin, her expression filled with steely determination.

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