Page 76 of Court of Treachery

It was disturbingly similar to her visions from Erendriel. Saradon smiled, and she wondered whether he knew what she likened it to. Eyes wide and mouth clamped shut, she advanced, resting the tips of her fingers upon the edge of the mirror, as though she could reach into the vision underneath the smooth, silvered glass. A blasted earth passed beneath her, as though from a bird’s view. Burning and charred piles were partly obscured by still rising pillars of smoke that twisted in the winds to cover almost all. The dead were a flood upon the earth.

“What is this?” she breathed. Beside her, Dimitri also stood, watching silently. As he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the smooth fabric of his sleeve touched her bare arm. A minor reassurance. She was not alone.

“Victory,” Saradon hissed. “Victory at last. Five hundred years have I been denied, but no more. The wheel shall be riven, and I shall build a new Pelenor from the ashes. Pelenor will fall, with Valtivar soon to follow. Slowly but surely, my dominion will spread as far as the land passes east and west and north and south, until it can go no farther. All will fall under my banners and obey my rule. No more will there be war and strife. All will serve.”

“The land is barren,” said Dimitri, his voice hollow.

“War has a cost, Lord Ellarian, as you well know.” Saradon glanced at him sharply. “The land will recover, as always. The peoples, as well.”

Gripped by his will, Harper felt a giddy swoop of excitement that was not her own pass through her, though she was horrified by his intent, despairing by the second that there was any hope. His excitement mixed with the nauseating fear that would not leave her belly, making it all worse.

“I could not be more pleased with how all progresses,” Saradon said, drawing up with a satisfied smile. “It will not be long now before the sword will strike and I will be king of all.” Saradon turned to Harper, smiling with a cruel glint in his eyes. “And you, daughter, shall be first by my side in all things.”

Harper had no choice as his will forced her to curtsy before him deeply and remain low, with her head bowed and her gaze on the floor. “I will serve,” she intoned, fighting every word he made her speak.

65

HARPER

Dimitri escorted Harper to her chamber in silence. She tried to take note of the twists and turns and the many levels they climbed until her legs burned, but was quickly lost. Harper glanced at him as they strode, their steps echoing down the dark and deserted halls, but he stared resolutely ahead, his jaw set. She did not dare speak. Not with the darkness nipping at their heels beyond the glow of the faelight he cast to illuminate the way. Not with their master close by.

They returned to the jarl’s sprawling quarters, high in the mountain fortress. There, the air was not marred by war. Fine tapestries still hung from the walls, containing some sparse warmth in the space, and nothing was damaged, desecrated, or looted. Harper was most thankful there was no sign of death. She had seen enough and could bear no more. She was surprised to see in her wing that she had not just one room, but a suite of her own, with a living space and a dining room, in addition to the bedroom and bathing room. In her haze, she had not realised its breadth. It was much like the rooms she, Aedon, Brand, and Erika had first shared in Keldheim. It felt comfortingly familiar, though too large and empty for her liking.

She did not like to think who this set of rooms had belonged to—because other people’s belongings scattered the space. A pair of boots here. A cloak there. Books upon the shelves. It clutched at her heart when she saw an open book propped on the dining table next to a mug—both abandoned as though left in a hurry. Their owner was no doubt dead. It threatened to tear a hole in her chest. She blinked away the rush of prickling heat in her eyes and turned into the living room so that she could not see. Dimitri slumped onto a cushioned armchair before her, as though he was a sail that had lost all its wind. He looked depleted, which concerned her.

“Are you all right?” she asked hesitantly, lurking by the arched entrance.

Dimitri waved her to a chair adjacent to his own. “No,” he said dully, running a hand through his hair and ruining his coiffed look.

Harper perched on the chair arm, arranging her dress around her, and waited, staring at him expectantly. She could not relax into the chair, too agitated by the situation they found themselves in, what had just happened to her friends at the hands of the goblins, and by the kiss—andmore—that the two of them had not spoken of. For all the closeness she had felt between them, now it felt like a gulf.This was a mistake. His words echoed in her mind. Harper steeled herself, walling the hurt away—it would not help anyone.

He stared at her, taking in her unusual appearance for a long moment, before his eyes flicked to hers, then dipped away. “We are bound to this runaway stallion now, and I fear we cannot untie ourselves.”

“The mirror…” Harper twisted the fine fabric of her dress between her fingers.

“Yes. If that were truly foresight, then it does not bode well. I would go so far as to say it is quite hopeless.” Dimitri shook hishead and stroked his lips with his forefinger and thumb as he stared into nothingness.

“But what of Erendriel’s vision?” Harper leaned forward. “She said there was hope—if only we could remain faithful and follow the way.”

Dimitri laughed. “How do you propose we do that, Harper? Hmm? Because you just as good as gave yourself away!”

“You’re angry at me?” she asked incredulously. “I’m trying to get us out of this mess! The messyoucreated!”

“Yes, I’m angry—no, I’mfurious—at your lunacy!” He stood, unable to contain his energy, and stormed to the opposite side of the chamber before turning to stride back, eliciting a thrill in the pit of her stomach. “You gave your freedom fornothing, and without it, we are as good as damned, Erendriel or not!”

“I gave it to save my friends!” Harper stood, too, squaring up to him, though she had to look up to meet his stormy gaze as he towered over her.

“Yet you didnot! They live merely to die another day,” he said, scowling down at her. “If anything, you only prolonged their suffering.”

His words speared right to the certainty in her that knew the self-same, but Harper would be damned before she admitted he was right. “Then how can I help them?”

“You cannot,” snapped Dimitri. “You gave your word to him. You don’t realise what you’ve done, do you? You have condemnedalljust for the chance—ill-used—to savetwo, and you did not even manage to spare them!” He threw his hands into the air, punched the wall, and leaned heavily against it.

“Youcondemned us all by raising him!” She advanced upon him.

He wheeled on her with a snarl, and the darkness in his eyes made her heart pound as she ceded one step, and then two, until her back was against the wall. “And it was a mistake that cannotbe taken back! I know now that power does not lead me to my desires. When will you cease putting me through the wringer for it? Must I be reminded of it at every turn? We are where we are. We must react, adapt, survive… then maybe we can undo this. You cannot be mad at me for wanting a better life.”

“For yourself, or for others?” She glared at him.

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