Page 39 of Of Blood & Stone

“But what about the famine?” she asked, sweat dripping down her back, a cold tear trailing down her warm cheek. She hated herself for not being able to hold back this emotion.

“It’s like you said last night, we have enough Kreenas and acolytes to keep our reserves full for the time being.” He leaned down, his face inches from hers. “Unless you plan on making this difficult?”

“No,” she quickly said, heart racing and palms sweating. Blood filled her mouth, stinging like acid in her throat, “I’ll do as you say.”

He clicked his tongue. “Good. First, I never want to hear you speak of Aretta’s Willow again, understood?”

Forcing the tears behind her eyes, she rolled her shoulders back. It didn’t matter that it didn’t make sense to her; his certainty of her position as Kreena overruled her desire to find the tree. She would have to accept this. There was no room for mistakes, uncertainty, or doubt. If she was to restore the emptiness and gain her power back, then she had to comply.

“Understood, Your Grace,” she said, forcing the shakiness in her voice to stay in the back of her throat.

He stepped around the statue, motioning for her to join him. She obeyed.

“Next, you’re going to make an announcement to the entire kingdom about your return as a Kreena. You’re going to bolster their confidence just as you did with the Kreenas and acolytes last night, telling them your cure will be in full effect soon.” He stopped in front of the gilded doors, eyes narrowed. “Tell them there’s nothing to fear, that the perpetrators have been taken care of, and Estea will live in abundance forevermore.”

She wanted to ask questions, such as what if shedidfail his test and they had to “start over” — would that mean it would be another three days of proving herself until she can get the cure? Or was it shorter, longer? Yet the questions stayed on her tongue, for she could see she’d worn his patience thin. For the first time in her life, she’d fallen from the High One’s graces.

For the first time in her life, she didn’t share her true thoughts with him.

“Yes, Your Grace,” she replied, bowing her head, “I would be honored.”

“Good. And lastly, you will regularly report everything the Vutrorian king says or does.” He shook his head. “There’s much to repair, Sylzenya. Am I clear in these expectations?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” she whispered.

He said nothing as he opened the doors, the guards on either side standing tall. Flaming torches and glowing orodytesfilled the gardens below, the people ceasing their chatter and movement as she and the High One approached the banister.

“Good,” the High One whispered, so low the guards couldn’t hear them, “now show me.”

Forcing her arms to stop shaking, she accepted the cup of wine offered by the guard. The High One addressed the crowd, proclaiming he had a special announcement from his most blessed of Kreenas. Sylzenya stared into the distance, the view allowing her to see Lhaal Forest—a curse and a blessing surrounding her people—keeping threats out only by harboring monsters within; creatures of instinct, doing whatever they could to stay alive.

She raised her glass to the sky, her people following her lead as she talked of hope, each word widening the emptiness in her chest until the scar on her back burned.

Perhaps she was more like those monsters than she cared to admit.

Chapter 10

A Thief in Estea

The cool night air clung to Elnok causing the hair on his arms and neck to raise. It reminded him of winter nights sitting around the campfire with his crew, telling stories, and eating scraps together with watered-down ale that tasted like piss. Standing before the Estean temple, those days felt like a distant dream.

Sandstone pillars stretched up towards the sky, the reflection of a nearby river draping the building in silver flames. Films of gold cracked along the sandstone like ripples of lightning. A breeze swept into his lungs, smelling sweetly of earth and herbs. He was surprised as a deep well of emotion ran up his nose into his eyes.

When was the last time he smelled something that wasn’t dry dirt and rotting fish?

Unlike the rest of Druenia, Estea wasalive.

“Quite the temple, isn’t it?” Kharis asked, the warrior twisting his hair into a topknot, “Wait until you see the gardens.”

“I’d rather sleep,” Elnok muttered, his eyes drooping while his body begged for respite.

He’d barely slept more than a few hours during their trek through Lhaal Forest, the fear of monsters coupled with the strange sighting of the glowing tree keeping him awake.

“Your sword, Prince Elnok,” the guard who had led them commanded, his hand outstretched.

Elnok raised a brow. “Aren’t you all… magical? Can’t the royal human without god-like assistance keep his only weapon?”

The guard laughed. “An excellent point, but I’m afraid not. Only Dynameis are allowed to carry weapons on temple and village grounds. But don’t worry, we’ll take good care of it in our barracks. I’ll even sharpen it for you if you’d like?”

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