Page 89 of Black Salt Queen

His gaze trailed down to her necklace?—to the precious remains of their precioso. “I’m sorry about your boy, Imeria, but this”?—he shook his head, his mouth hardening into a line?—“this is a risky gamble. I hope you know what’s at stake.”

He didn’t need to tell her. Imeria knew what she was risking?—her life, and perhaps the lives of those who had followed her into battle. She didn’t care. She would risk everything?—her title, her wealth, even her grip on the throne. She would surrender it all to save her son’s life.

“None of that matters now. I have totry,” she said in a quiet voice.

Gulod let out a desperate sigh, but he didn’t try to convince her otherwise.

It seemed as if an eternity passed before the divers returned. By the time their heads emerged over the side of the cliff, the sky had lost all warmth and was painted in purple and blue, like a bruise above the Untulu Sea. Vikal approached her first, his wet hair plastered against the side of his face.

“We have found him, my lady,” he said, the muscles in his jaw stretched taut.

Imeria didn’t understand the tremor in his voice until Ojas and the other men sidled up behind him. They were carrying what looked like a bundle of bones wrapped up in a bloodied fisherman’s tarp.

“Oh.”

They were gone for so long, she thought she would be prepared for this moment. But Imeria was too weak to withstand the wave of pain that coursed through her at the sight of Luntok’s body. A fractured wail escaped from her mouth. She fell to her knees.

A strong hand squeezed her shoulder?—Vikal. “If this is too much, my lady?—” he said softly.

“It’s not.” Imeria shook his hand away and squared her back. She looked up to find that Duja was on her feet, watching her, a shadow of pity on her haggard face. The tight coil of pain in her heart unfurled once again?—oh, what we’ve lost, what we both have lost?—before Imeria shoved it back down.

She thought once more of Luntok’s young, handsome face and braced herself before she reached for the edge of the tarp. With a sharp breath, she peeled it back. Her stomach turned. Behind her, she heard the nobles on the Black Salt Cliffs gasp. A rumble of dread tore through the crowd. The grisly assemblage of muscle and flesh was unrecognizable.

This is my son,she reminded herself. Imeria shook her head and squared her shoulders. She thought of Laya and the ruthlessness with which she threw him into the water. The anger focused her.I won’t let you kill him.

Imeria reached for the glass vial around her neck with one hand and for the pipe in the pocket of her skirt with the other. She filled the bowl with precioso, nearly using up the entire vial. It was a precious resource, but she would waste all of it if it brought her son back.

“A match,” she said in a harsh whisper. Gulod retrieved one for her, holding it to the pipe. Imeria inhaled deeply and let the poison flood her system. Several times, she repeated the motion until she felt the power swell within her like a seismic wave. It surged through her blood, stronger than it had been during their attack on the palace. It morphed into a creature of its own volition, too great for her mortal body to contain.

She held her hands to Luntok’s battered corpse. She closed her eyes and dug deep, past his exposed muscles and broken bones, and found the sliver of life buried there. Her body convulsed as the power ripped through her, coursing through her fingers and pouring into her son’s remains. Deftly, the threads of energy wove through the bloodless veins and torn flesh. A cacophony of gasps rose from the crowd. Imeria looked back down. Luntok’s body glowed, white as a comet, as she stitched him back together.

Tears spilled out of the corners of her eyes. With a strangled moan, she pressed harder, dug deeper.Live,she screamed in her head.Live, live, live.

Behind the glow, shadows shifted. Imeria watched, wide-eyed, as Luntok became whole again. His ribs, which had protruded from his chest, disappeared beneath a layer of unmarred skin. His left femur fused together with a sickening crack.

On the ground, Luntok’s eyes shot open. The white glow dimmed. Below the roar of precioso in her ears, she could have sworn she heard him gasp for breath.

“By the gods,” Vikal cried out beside her. “Luntok. He’s?—”

Alive.

A spark of triumph burst in Imeria’s breast. She let out a sob of relief. She had done it. She had saved him. She tried to lift her hands to stroke his cheeks but found them mired to his chest. She looked down in alarm as her hands glowed anew. The power shot through them once again, this time beyond Imeria’s control. She cried out in shock.

“Imeria!” Duja shrieked. But Imeria could barely hear her. A strange, foreign voice filled her head.

I’ve been waiting for you, Imeria Kulaw, wielder of mind and flesh,it whispered. It was the voice of power, older than Maynara, maybe older than time itself.

No.Imeria straightened in panic. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the voice to quiet. But the moment she resisted, it grew louder, impatient.

Fight me not, Imeria Kulaw,the voice told her.Mother of Luntok. Maker of gods.

Images flooded her mind. She saw her son tearing through Laya’s letters. She saw him falling from the palace walls. One blink, and she saw the shadow of a raptor gliding across the open sea. Sunlight rippled across its glossy plume. It dived low, dipping a sharp talon into the water. When it craned its neck, Imeria caught a glimpse of the raptor’s face. Deep in the amber pools of its eyes, she could make out the silhouette of a young man. She recognized the broad shoulders, the sharp edge of his jawline.

“Luntok?” she gasped.

“My lady!”Vikal’s deep voice pulled her back to earth.

Imeria’s eyes flew open. She was kneeling on the Black Salt Cliffs. Dozens of eyes were on her, but only one pair mattered.

---