Page 68 of Scourged

When she arrived, it was no longer a camp. Everything was packed and readied, her Armature standing beside their horses. Feran held a pair of boots and socks in his hand, greeting her with a gentle smile. She returned it, bare feet crunching the icy ground.

“Are you alright,nio?” The too-familiar voice fixed her in place. A voice that had her soul singing and sent fear and panic racing through her limbs.

She turned, slowly, to face Andrian. That nickname, one she hadn’t heard in many long, tortuous weeks, twisted a knife further into her gut. All the pain, all the heartbreak she felt was etched plainly across her face.

The entire clearing fell silent.

Mariah held Andrian’s gaze for seven long, tortuous heartbeats, before she found her words amongst the shreds of her soul.

“You never told me what that means. What it meant.”

Andrian blinked in shock. “It was stupid of me to lie to you, that day in the library. But … you never asked again.”

Mariah squeezed her eyes closed. It was too much. She knew he recalled none of what had happened, but she had no idea how far back that went. How much of what they’d shared was real, and how much was just the work of a nameless darkness that had kept Andrian shrouded and wreathed in a mental prison as strong as her iron cage.

“I did. I asked again. The same night I lost you, I asked.” She opened her eyes to meet his stare once more.

“But now, I don’t think I want to know anymore.”

She turned, striding to Feran with as much purpose as she could muster. She could feel the pain between their bond snap and sunder her soul, knew it would be etched on his heartbreakingly beautiful face. But she did not let it buckle her, did not let it show beyond the slight tremor to her hands as she took her socks and boots from Feran and slid them onto her feet.

She kept it all bottled up, even as she settled on Feran’s horse. Even as his warmth wrapped around her.

As they rode from the clearing, through the forested foothills of northern Onita, only one thing kept her from tumbling headfirst into the bottomless despair of her thoughts.

Delicate, white snowbell blossoms had pushed past the last of the winter frost, their arched shape hanging over green stems. The symbol adorning the queen’s crown, representing the rejuvenative magic of Qhohena and how, despite all hardship, life always emerged victorious.

Passing field after field of the beautiful white flowers, none of them speaking into the cold quiet, Mariah wondered if they had it all wrong.

Maybe life never won; it was just death donning a prettier face.

Chapter 27

They arrived back in Verith much the same way Mariah had left it: quietly and cloaked in darkness.

Except this time, Mariah returned surrounded by those who’d risked everything to save her. The only constant, of course, was a single man who trailed the group, eyes downcast and shrouded in shadow.

But Mariah did not want to focus on the similarities. Instead, she wanted to focus on how her return was different.

She wanted to focus on where she would go from here.

The entrance through the city wall was worn and rusted, iron creaking as the gate was lifted by two heavy chains. They passed beneath the ancient stone and emerged on the other side, somewhere in the center of the city. The twinkling lights of the mountain district rose above them, just as the brighter vibrancy of the market district down below glowed against the early spring night. The Bay was empty and quiet, and she released a soft sigh of relief.

Feran had filled her in on what had happened since she was taken. About the threat of the Kizar Islanders as they’d pummeled the coasts, keeping her Armature distracted andpreoccupied. She still had many more questions but wanted to see the city for herself before deciding what to do next.

Feran shifted behind her, adjusting the reins and leaning close to her ear. “Welcome home.”

Home.

The word clattered through her.

The nagging feeling that it was all a dream again crept up on her. It was a spiral she’d fallen into often during their days of travel. If tomorrow, she would simply wake again in that cold, dark cell, all hope of freedom and happiness washed away in the night. She was so hesitant to let herself feel joy, to feel happiness at being back in Verith. And she knew exactly why.

In those weeks, she’d gotten to know Shawth quite well. He would not be one to simply give her up in such a way.

Not unless he was sure it would result in something he could use to get what he wanted.

All those dark thoughts followed Mariah like a cloud as they marched steadily up the hills of the mountain district, their path leading to the great golden palace, resplendent and vibrant even at night as it rose into view. A beat of annoyance raced through her; not only had nine weeks of her life been stolen from her, but she could not even enjoy being home.

---