Page 18 of The Flame and the Forsaken

Her shoulders released their pinch, softening her posture. Her neck rolled in a stretch. “I know I said I wanted you to brag to your mates about us, but talking shite about me to your conquests?”

“Whatconquests?” he shot back, growing hot again. “When would I have time for those, when I’m so busy trying to placate my wife and father?”

Mariel scoffed, readying with a hard breath in. “I don’t care who you fuck. I care who you spill your secrets to.”

“So when I say I’ve done no such thing, you’re still going to trust the words of fishwife gossip instead of me?”

“Why would they lie about such a thing?”

“Why wouldI?” Erran exclaimed. He groaned quietly when others turned their attention on them. “My mother welcomed you with open arms, Mariel. My father has been kind. Sessaly is... Sessaly, but she’s like that with everyone. She was worse with Yesenia. They never got on.”

“Can’t help working her into a conversation, can you?” Mariel’s hand constricted atop his, her head tilting back and up to look at him. “You’re lucky it was me who ended up sharing your life and not someone capable of actually loving you. Because there’s no room for three in a marriage, is there? Especially not when one is as ‘insufferable’ as you tell others I am.” She broke away as the song came to a close, her chest rising and caving. Her smile seemed real enough, but nothing in her eyes implied an ounce of joy. “I did my part tonight, even if you didn’t like the way I did it. Now do yours.”

Astonished, Erran watched her slip into the crowd and disappear.

Khallum drew up beside him moments later. “And we thought my sister was a challenge. You’ve got your hands full with that one, aye?” He clamped a hand over his shoulder. “And we already knew about the accentandthe freckles, mate, so liven up. There’s ale to be drunk and lassies to dance with.”

Chapter4

The Golden Egg

Mariel crouched low, her eyes in a squint and her ears listening for sounds, friendly or hostile. She and Alessia were hidden in a thatch of thorny bushes at the edge of a small clearing, Magnur not far off. The others were in their regular positions, passing signals that would make their way back to where Mariel and the two warriors of the group waited to be deployed. Remy and Augustine guarded each end of the road, while Destin patrolled the forest in between.

“You hear that, or did I imagine it?” Alessia whispered. She wrapped her arms around her slim jacket, warming herself. She was called the Sword because of her training as a blacksmith’s daughter and her role as the group’s armorer, but also due to her adeptness in wielding the steel she forged. Magnur, Alessia’s sometimes partner—the largest man Mariel had ever laid eyes on—had begun his days in Obsidian Sky as the Sea, an ode to his force and unchangeableness, but their targets had dubbed him the Stone for his implausible size, and that was the name that had stuck.

“I heard it,” Mariel replied and waited until Destin’s trill echoed a second time. She shifted to free her quiver from of a thatch of thorns. “Get ready. Remy’s should come anytime now.”

“He went north, right?”

Mariel nodded toward the north end of the road. “I saw him pass by ten minutes ago. Augustine was already south.”

“And Destin?”

“You heard his signal.”

“Isnae my meaning, and you know it.”

Destin had been reading the forest in preparation. The Whisperer, he was known as, but only by the others in the group, for Mariel had pushed from the very start to keep his role inconspicuous. Ever since their parents and sister had died, he’d been reading the dangers of the world like he was tuned just for them. It wasn’t magic, even if it sometimes seemed like it was, but an almost empathic connection to the world, similar to how advanced trackers could discern all manner of detail from things that were inconspicuous to others. He was not the tactical genius Remy was nor the warrior Alessia and Magnur were. He had no tangible skill, like Augustine, with which to make a name for himself. And he was not fiercely resilient, like Mariel. He had to be invisible because he would never survive capture. Mariel only kept him in the group because it was better to have him near and know what he was up to than worry about the trouble he’d find if he was not.

“He’s dry tonight,” Mariel answered tersely, followed by a warning look.For now,she added in her head.

“He doesnae need ale to self-destruct, Mar.”

“Nor do any of us. Shall I take your place then?”

“If you say he’s fine...” Alessia was clearly unconvinced but held up a hand in surrender and ducked lower before slinking off to take her position on the west side of the road.

For the first time in over an hour, Mariel was alone.

She used to enjoy her rare moments of quiet reflection, but in her weeks as the “pining wife,” she’d been forced into more than her share. She was still reeling from her antics on the terrace, and in desperate need of some inward wisdom, but she had none to give.Monthsshe’d plotted and planned and sat in her impatience, knowing once he returned she would have to be ready to move on their agenda. It was an enigma even to herself why she’d behaved so poorly, going against her own plan to convince others they were warming to each other... why her tension had flamed into fury when Augustine had told her the way Erran had talked about her to the women he took to his bed.

She didn’tcareabout any of that. His idiocy with Yesenia worked in Mariel’s favor. Really, so did his wandering penis. If he spent his energies on a constant stream of housemaids, he’d leave her alone, and they could, maybe, make it through their short marriage without doing anything that would haunt her nightmares forevermore.

Just playing my part,she’d said, as if it explained any of her behavior. He was rightfully confused, and if she couldn’t extract her head from her ass, she’d sabotage everything she’d worked for over the past ten years. She’d let down the only family she had left, when they’d given up everything for a vision she’d convinced them was the path to their salvation.

But those were troubles for later, when they weren’t moments away from the wagon arriving.

Mariel snaked a meandering path through the bushes until the road was visible again. A canopy of leaves fanned the sides of the narrow passage, rustling against the peaceful breeze that had followed a quick, hard rain that had glistened against the moonlight. She peeked up long enough to find both Alessia and Magnur, each posted on opposite sides of the road and holding the ends of a stretched wire. Remy would be too far to spot, and Destin would be hiding by now, but where was...

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