Page 76 of Scourged

Ryenne hobbled another step forward, moving until she stood before Mariah, bending her stiff neck back to meet those glowing green eyes.

Even though Mariah’s body was weak, her magic still pulsed around her. Ryenne couldn’t remember a time when her eyes had glowed like that, when the magic was so eager to be a part of her that it had danced in her vision.

She lifted a hand, resting it on Mariah’s arm. Squeezed once, gently. “I am so, so sorry?—”

“Please, Ryenne,” Mariah interrupted. There was something else in her expression, something that pulled a tear free from Ryenne’s eyes.

Pain.

“I don’t want you to apologize,” Mariah continued. “I don’t want to talk about the past or what happened. I only want to talk about the future. About what comes next. Where we go from here.”

More of Ryenne’s tears fell, and she didn’t bother to catch them.Qhohena, she prayed silently,this girl has been tested enough. Do not force her to prove herself more.

“Of course,” Ryenne whispered. “Let us talk about what comes next, then. On the balcony?”

Mariah nodded, expression stoic.

Ryenne removed her hand from Mariah’s arm and wiped her eyes. Kalen’s fingers brushed hers, and he pushed a handkerchief into her hand. She turned to give him a brief smile before dabbing her eyes with the soft cotton.

Her consort always knew what she needed, often before she did.

Composing herself, she tucked the handkerchief into the pocket of her full velvet gown. “Help an old woman? I am not as spry as I once was.”

To Ryenne’s delight, that pulled a faint, ghostly smile to Mariah’s lips. She dipped her head, hair falling forward into her eyes, before tucking the ends behind her ears and extending an arm to Ryenne. Together, they walked slowly to the balcony doors, Mariah opening the heavy glass with enough effort to squeeze Ryenne’s chest again.

The two queens—one young, one old—stood on the balcony, breathing in the morning spring air.

“This is my favorite time of year.” Ryenne tilted her head to the sky, closing her eyes. “The smell of the snowbells on the breeze. The eagles nesting in the mountains. Their chicks will hatch soon, and in a few months, we’ll hear their cries as they begin their first flying lessons.”

“Have you seen them?” Mariah asked softly. Ryenne cracked her lids and glanced at the young woman, who watched the sky. “The Attlehon eagles? I’ve heard their wingbeats, but I’ve never actually seen them flying. I’ve often wondered if it’s just a figment of my imagination, something I knew I should hear because I learned of their existence in school but neverreallyheard.”

Ryenne smiled. “Of course, I have seen them. I’ve lived here for over three centuries. But they are hard to spot.”

Mariah turned, head tilting. “Why? I thought they were gold, easy to see.”

Ryenne shook her head. “They are gold when they nest and when they land. But their feathers carry a magic of their own. They refract the light—both that of the sun and the moons—and when they fly, they become all but invisible. The only way youcan see them is on an Equinox night—or if theywantyou to see them.”

Mariah’s brow furrowed. “How do you make them want you to see them?”

“You don’t.” Ryenne brushed a lock of gray hair from her face. “But one day, you will, and it will be the greatest moment of your life.”

Mariah was silent for a moment. “That would be … nice.” She stared at the mountains as if listening for those wingbeats. “I think I would like that,” she murmured.

Ryenne watched Mariah for a few more heartbeats, breathing into the air. “So, the future. No matter what we discuss, I want you to know that there is no timeline. We can take whatever time you need.”

Mariah’s chest rose and fell with a breath. Her hair swirled around her face, eyes darting across the sky, still searching for those invisible eagles in the air.

“I want vengeance. Retribution.” She said the second word with a snarl, a twist to her lips. She turned to meet Ryenne’s gaze. “I never told you about the other side of the magic I carry. About the other goddess who blessed me before I was born.”

Everything stilled inside Ryenne. Her lungs froze, weighed down by the years of her life. Her heart struggled to keep beating, her mind fighting to process Mariah’s words.

“Zadione?” Ryenne whispered. When Mariah nodded, she clasped a hand over her mouth.Impossible.

“The only goddess who has ever spoken to me, who has ever answered my prayers, is the goddess of death. My mother and her family trace their lineages to an ancient line of priestesses—priestesses who worshipped and were blessed by Zadione. My mother carried some of that magic with her; it’s what made her an exceptional healer. And I … I got the equivalent to whatever Qhohena blessed Xara with, long ago. But instead of gold, thosethreads burn silver, cold as death but wild as the life that leads to it.”

Ryenne was stunned. She almost didn’t believe it, not really. Zadione had locked herself away in Enfara with the Scourge, a self-inflicted banishment for the death and destruction she’d caused to the continent during the First War. All Onitans knew this story.

But as she stared at Mariah, as she watched the light shining in her eyes, she realized … it wastrue. For it wasn’t just threads of gold that shimmered in her forest depths. There was silver there, too, so vibrant that Ryenne felt like a fool for missing it before.

---