Page List

Font Size:

And there it was. The crimson light at the back of his throat, an ember from the Womb of Fire. It was hot and bright enough to cast a glow on her body, and to coat her face in sweat again.

‘Forgive my insolence. I misspoke,’ she stammered, ‘but please, take no more of my people.’

‘You do not command the fire,’Fýredel told her. ‘Go back to the Flesh King, and when he can no longer stand, don my aspect in his stead. Let them know whose decree resounds from the mountain.’

With a heavyclang, something fell at her side. Marosa picked it up with clumsy hands. Even through her gloves, she felt its warmth.

A helm of cast iron, shaped like the head of a wyrm.

****

She carried the helm with her from the cave. When she reached the Palace of Salvation, Priessa was there to wrap her in a mantle and embrace her. Marosa tried to still her shaking as Ermendo took the dreadful helm out of her sight.

‘Your Radiance.’ Lord Gastaldo appeared to her right. ‘Are you injured?’

‘No, my lord.’ Marosa kept her left hand clenched against her breast. ‘I am only shaken.’

She had thrown her glove into the Tundana. The evidence of her folly.

‘I am relieved to hear it,’ Lord Gastaldo said. ‘Please, come to my study.’

‘I must bathe first. Saint knows what Draconic filth I have brought.’

‘Do not fear. The floor is cleaned with vinegar.’

Marosa followed him up the many steps to his study, torn between nerves and curiosity. Lord Gastaldo had always been a broad man, but in the weeks since she had last seen him, his face had turned gaunt.

In his study, Marosa took a seat, keeping her veil in place. Lord Gastaldo opened a window, while Priessa stood beside the door.

‘Donmata,’ Lord Gastaldo said, ‘what did the wyrm say to you?’

‘He said I must take over when my father can no longer stand.’

Priessa made a faint sound. Lord Gastaldo glanced at his daughter, his lips pressed into a line.

‘Your Radiance,’ he said to Marosa, ‘I know you must resent me for keeping you away from the Privy Council, as your father always has, but I did it only to conceal you from Fýredel. I have tried my best to stop His Majesty visiting you when the wyrm looks through him.’

‘The wyrmdoeslook through him, then?’

‘I have no doubt of it. I have stayed close to him in the hope that Fýredel would perceive me as his natural replacement. Until today, I believed I was succeeding.’

Marosa was momentarily speechless.

‘You meant for him to sow the plague in you next?’ she asked him. ‘You would sacrifice your own life to his evil?’

‘Better me than our Donmata.’

He was serious. She could see it in his eyes.

‘You may know that Fýredel called me into the mountain some time ago,’ he said. ‘During our meeting, he made clear that he knew I was not a Vetalda. Perhaps it is a scent. He knows enough of our laws to understand that the throne must pass to someone of the same blood.’

‘What was the purpose of the meeting?’

‘He wanted to know why His Majesty was sleeping more often. I explained that he was unwell. The plague has been afflicting him with fevers, which leave him too weak to rise, even when Fýredel compels him to do so. The Royal Physician has also given him dwale, which keeps him in a deep stupor for hours. That must be why the wyrm calledyou today. He wanted to see who is next in line. To make sure they are young and strong enough to bear his fire.’

‘What cares a wyrm for the petty laws of humankind?’

‘I suspect that he wants to use Vetalda authority to make this invasion appear legitimate.’