Page 19 of Magick and Lead
The woman looked hesitant to answer, but she looked to an older man who nodded, encouraging her. “They said… you… were a traitor,” she went on haltingly. “That you’d betrayed Maethalia. They said—forgive me—they said you were whore to an Admite lord and that your mother died because you betrayed her to our enemies.”
I felt anger coiling in my chest like a serpent. Ollie and I exchanged a glance.
“The other villagers, the strangers who came with the Gray Brothers—” the woman said. “They had soot painted around their eyes. They tried to get us to convert to the religion of the Brothers. To swear allegiance to the Lords of the Void, as they had. We refused, but as the hours went on, they became more and more cruel. The things they did were…”
At this, finally, the woman broke, her face contorting into a sob.
“We are loyal to you, your majesty,” the woman said. “No one told them. No one would ever… but they paid. They paid with their lives, they did. The Brothers and the witch left, finally. But they said they’d be back, and that when they returned, we’d better give up your location, or it would be much worse for us. They’d already killed many of us. And they took the children of the village with them…”
The woman’s words gave way to silence and trembling. I went to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, then looked to Pocha and Lure, who’d emerged from the longhouse.
“Lure, go to the village elders. Make sure these people get food, shelter, and clothing.”
Lure nodded, already moving.
“Pocha, take some Skrathan and go to Quorn. Look for survivors and find out what you can about the people who attacked them. But be cautious.”
She bowed. “Right away.”
I turned to Ollie. “Ollie, you speak with these survivors. Find out what you can about this witch and her goons.”
“Of course, Essa.” Ollie arched an eyebrow. “And may I ask what you will be doing?”
Ah, Ollie. My Torouman. Ever shrewd…
“I haven’t decided yet,” I said, a half-truth.
Then I turned on my heel and departed back into the longhouse.
As the crowd dispersed outside, I slipped back into the longhouse, changed into my fireproof battle cloak and leathers,and began stuffing items into my flight pack. For some reason, my thoughts kept returning to Kit—Charlie. The moment we’d spent together on the beach at Sand Crescent. The moment we’d kissed in that hidden chamber above the palace ballroom. The time in that dragon den on Dorhane when our bodies had met in a divine, primal clash, like the sea crashing against the shore. But each time I thought of him, I made myself end the daydream the same way—by stabbing a knife into his heart.
When the packing was done, I reached out to Othura. She and the other dragons slept a half a league away in order to avoid scaring the villagers—people who had already been traumatized by golenae. But despite the distance, I could reach her easily with my mind.
Have you eaten?I asked.Are you ready to fly?
I’m always ready to fly with you, Dear Heart.But where are we flying to?
There was a slyness in her voice. Of course, she already knew. As usual, she knew my mind almost before I did.
What I wanted to do was fly to that village with Pocha and destroy that witch and the people who slaughtered those villagers. That’s what a younger Essa would have done. But I was not that Essa. I was queen now. I had to think like a Torouman, not some headstrong, hundredth-ranked Skrathan. And, though Pocha was wise enough to be cautious, the atrocities visited upon that village might well be designed to draw me out of hiding and capture me.
Lacunae, golenae, now Gray Mages—all were searching for me. They knew I was nearby. No doubt the spirits of the void had confirmed it for them. The witch had even said outright that she sensed me nearby. They’d continue searching, continue harming my people, until they found me. Or until they knew I was not here to be found. Staying here only endangered them.
Ollie would have me deliver myself up to my enemies, to go into their midst, as if a sheep could rule over a pack of jackals.
That was not a fate I was willing to accept…
A snore drew my attention, and I looked over to the shadowed corner where Dagar still lay sleeping, his long form sprawled on a straw mattress. He’d been the most happy-go-lucky person I knew. Now, he looked pale, drawn. He’d lost at least fifteen pounds since his dragon had died. He was wasting away, fading. And next to him, in a pile of old blankets, the baby dragon, Parthar, sat, his glowing eyes blinking at me in the dimness. When I reached out to him, no words came back, only a groan of sorrow. He was fading, too. And though we’d moved their beds near one another, he’d come no closer to bonding with Dagar.
It all pointed back to the same choice. Leave this place so the villagers concealing me wouldn’t suffer. Fly to Admar. Break Parthar’s bond with Charlie so he would be free to bond with Dagar. Secure a Stellhan so I could forge my own future without bowing to my enemies. And avenge my mother and my city by killing the traitorous man responsible for their downfall.
That was what I wanted, more than anything. To see Kit’s—Charlie’s—handsome face once again—as I plunged my knife into his chest.
But that would only be the beginning of my revenge. I had a list. Lord Natath and his nobles. Hoatan. And most of all, Prelate Kortoi. All would fall under my blade. But Charlie would be the first.
Of course, Ollie would counsel against it. My friends would try to stop me. But I was queen. Irska. Daughter of Queen Synaeda. Heir of Aulucia the White. We were a dynasty forged in fire and blood. And I had a score to settle, a kingdom to secure, and a crown to win. Though fear made my hand tremble as Icinched up my pack, though something like heartbreak burned in my chest, I knew what I had to do.
Where are we flying to? Othura had asked.
