Page 80 of Scourged

Mariah nodded absently, not looking back as he left the room.

She felt a little guilty for being so cold, but she didn’t have it in her to put on a mask. She would apologize to Matheo later and give him a healthy thanks. For being there and pulling her back from the abyss.

Right now, though … her fingers toyed with the winged cross-guard of her dagger.

Right now, she just needed the sun.

Chapter 32

The familiar woods that lay between the palace and the Attlehon Mountains smelled of spring, rebirth, change, and new beginnings.

They differed from the Ivory Forest Mariah had grown up in. The way the rustling of the leaves brushed her ears was less comforting, the birds chirping in the branches above less soothing. But they were still woods, and it was grounding to be surrounded by the wilds once again.

Which was great, since nothing in her life truly grounded her. Not anymore.

Especiallynot after yesterday. Her resolve had shifted and steadied as she’d sat in her window, soaking in the sun as it crossed over the mountains, watching for eagles.

It was now late morning as Mariah walked briskly down the forest path. Trefor walking beside her, the sun dappling through the trees warm against her too-pale skin. Her clothes were loose on her frame, her hair was too short to be braided, and her lungs already burned with the effort of the walk, but to her surprise, those things didn’t bother her.

They only served to remind her that she had survived. That she was stronger now.

That she would become strong again and she would find her vengeance.

Herretribution.

Something flitted at the edge of her vision. She froze, a bolt of surprise racing through her, as a black butterfly darted out of the trees and danced its way down below the canopy. It landed on a branch just off the path, near her head, watching her much the same way it had before.

Beside her, Trefor paused. “Mariah? You okay?”

She hushed her blond-haired Armature, attention still fixed on the insect.

There was no way it was the same butterfly she’d seen on the journey from Khento. That would be impossible.

Yet something in her cocked its head at the insect. Her magic pushed its way up from her gut and into her veins. Those threads of silver-gold light slipped free from her skin, dancing to the butterfly.

The second her magic touched its delicate black wings, an image slammed into her skull, shoving her back with a gasping step. Trefor’s hands gripped her shoulders and her magic pulled back into her, coiling around her soul with a wild protectiveness.

“M! What’s wrong?”

Mariah couldn’t answer Trefor, not yet. Not with an image burned into her skull. When she closed her eyes, she could see it, clear as the day.

It was a dragon, maw parted in a great roar, massive wings stretched wide, taloned claws digging into soft earth.

And its color … its color was unlike anything she’d ever seen.

Not a color—not exactly. At first, it was black with flickering streaks of gold. Then, that black shifted to silver, but the gold remained. It kept morphing, back and forth, from black to silver, dark to light. Only gold remained, but hardly made the image any clearer.

Mariah’s eyes flew open, chest heaving as she stared back at where the butterfly had been.

Of course, it was gone.

“N-nothing.” She shook off Trefor’s hands, forcing herself to stand straight. “I’m fine. Just … trying to get used to my magic again. That’s all.” She tried her best to ignore the tremor in her voice.

The image was fading, but she was still filled with an emotion she’d become far too acquainted with those past few months.

She was terrified.

Mariah gulped deep, steadying breaths as she stood there on the forest path, Trefor’s concerned stare grazing her cheek. She let her heart rate settle, let the image fade fully from her mind.

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