Page 179 of Scourged

This wasn’t Delaynie’s fault.

Her friend was yet another victim of her kingdom’s fuckingtraditions.

“This,” Mariah said, “is something I didn’t know existed until very, very recently, when I was forced to become painfully familiar with it.” She met Delaynie’s stare. “It’s calleddeistair. It’s Old Onitan for sunstone. It’s the same substance they used to cuff my wrists to lock away my magic when theytookme. That’s what it does, Delaynie—it locks away magic. Severs your connection to the gods, to their gifts, to the very earth andallumein the ground around us.”

The room was quiet. Delaynie’s mother stepped forward, standing beside her daughter, her eyes wide.

“I … This is …”

“Impossible. I know. But here it is, and I can promise you—this isdeistair. You said every high-born or wealthy girl gets thesesautoireson their thirteenth birthday? Their firstdebutante?”

Delaynie and her mother nodded, their eyes still wide with shock and confusion.

It settled around Mariah then. The gravity of what that meant. She’d always found it odd how so many boys had magic but hardly any girls. And how when it was a girl, she was always from one of the poorer families, those who wouldn’t have beenable to afford a gift like this … or even knew it existed. Mariah wouldn’t be surprised if this was a closely held secret guarded by those who could afford it. A method to suppress the magic in every girl they found worthy of being a wife, to keep them docile and tamed and obedient.

Mariah’s gut twisted, and she feared she might be sick.

“Wearing this … it would mask all magic, if you had any. Especially if you wore it before any gifts manifested. They’ve been suppressing magic in girls—in women—for a long, long time.” Mariah’s voice was hollow and low, the depth of her anger sinking deeper into a never-ending pit, clawing and screaming against the evilness of the world that even after showing her its hand, still surprised her.

Her gaze snapped to Ryenne’s body, shrouded in gold. Mariah gripped Delaynie’s ruineddeistairnecklace tighter in her palm and stalked toward the raised table. Light shimmered off her skin, coils of silver-gold snapping between her fingers like snakes. The vile stone in her palm was just enough to make her magic hiss and twist, but as a fully ascended queen, it would take much more than a small morsel of it to lock her power away.

It was plenty to unleash the unearthly rage lurking beneath her skin, though.

Mariah stood for a moment beside Ryenne’s corpse. She pinched the end of the shroud, pulling it back just enough to reveal Ryenne’s face, peaceful and still in death. Her eyes were closed, gray hair brushed away from her face. Her skin sagged, but the magic of this room held her in stasis until the vigil was complete.

“Did you know?” Mariah’s whisper was so quiet, she doubted none other than the gods could hear her. “Did you know what they’ve done to their girls to keep them weak and suitable as wives? How many girls could be running through the kingdom with flames in their palms or the winds on their heels, freefrom either the confines of an unfulfilling marriage or a lifetime of servitude?” A tear streaked down Mariah’s face, her voice breaking as it landed on the golden shroud.

“How many, Ryenne?” Her last words were raised, almost a shout as she let her tears fall upon her predecessor’s body. A queen who’d had a good heart but was too weak to protect those who needed her most.

Mariah stepped away from Ryenne, glancing down at the burning stone in her palm.

With a growl that morphed into a scream, she funneled all her magic into that stone. It burned against her palm as the black heated to orange, the gold crackling with power before it shattered, vaporizing into thousands of tiny pieces scattered into the air.

Mariah sank to her knees in the antechamber, her shoulders sagging, chin hitting her chest.

Footfalls echoed behind her. A large, familiar shape lowered to his knees before her. Andrian leaned into her space, forehead resting against hers, a hand slipping behind her neck.

“You will end them,nio. You will end them all for this.”

Mariah raised her head, meeting that beloved tanzanite stare. That face that she’d once despised so much, had tried to resist but was drawn to, nevertheless. The tortured soul inside that was still so full of anger and grief and self-loathing but was learning to put it aside for her. A soul she was determined to help mend, with each day he stood by her side.

Which, she hoped, would be a long, long time.

“We, Andrian. We will end them, and we will scatter their ashes like dust on the wind as we build this world anew.”

Chapter 63

“Please.Please. I didn’t do anything?—”

Sebastian’s jaw clenched as a terrible cry of pain cut Ryland’s plea short. The tip of Mariah’s dagger dug deeper into the sensitive skin beneath the nail on his forefinger, a trickle of blood leaking onto his stained City Guard uniform.

It took Feran two days to find Ryland. The young captain was hiding in the market district, hoping to disappear into the constant movement and activity.

If someone other than Feran had searched for him, perhaps it would’ve worked. Perhaps Ryland would’ve vanished into the heart of the city or even boarded a ship heading south to Idrix.

But no one tracked their quarry quite like Feran. When he’d dragged Ryland from the seedy tavern, thrashing and angry, he’d worn only a look of grim satisfaction.

Feran stood somewhere behind Sebastian now, that same look still on his face, arms crossed, the black braids of his hair pulled back at the nape of his neck.

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