I could heal.
If there was any last drop of power within me, I would use it to heal the villagers who survived the attack. Surely the monster with a body of a horse but the head of a demon wouldn’t massacre everyone.
Though the hedge had receded and the gate stood open, it still felt like a barrier existed that I had to push past as I forced one foot to lift, then the other, carrying me toward then through, passing underneath the safety, the security, of the hedge that had protected and watched over us for so long. I sensed the shudder go through it that made its dark green leaves flutter.
“Inara!”
The sound of my name was an unexpected jolt that made me stumble just outside the hedge. At first I’d almost thought it was the hedge—who else was left?—then I remembered.
I spun and saw my mother, standing on the steps of the citadel, her hair askew, her dress blowing around her ankles, revealing her bare feet. She stared at the open gate. I’d never seen her in such disarray.
I’d never heard her call for me.
And yet, I couldn’t stay. Another roar was carried to us on the wind from below, spiraling up from the village where unimaginable horror was visiting them because of me. Because I touched that door and lost my sister and let the beast in.
“Inara! How did you—”
But the rest of her question was swept away by the wind as I turned my back on the woman who had long ago turned hers to me, and resolutely marched away from the only home I’d known toward the massacre surely taking place below us.
The path slashed through the mountainside, still frighteningly steep even though it switched back and forth through the dense trees and foliage in an attempt to make it more traversable. My nails bit into my palms as I picked my way down the trail, legs stiff and my lower back aching. I hoped I was at least halfway to the village, but it was impossible to tell; I could only see soil, foliage, and sky.
The entire time I kept expecting the familiar roar to begin at some point, for the noise to start to build within me, swelling until it drowned everything else out—as it always had before—but it never came. The silence inside was simultaneously a massive relief and unsettling. What if I made it to the village only to find I had nothing left to give? It always came back … but how long did it take after how much I’d used already today?
Was it possible to have used it all up—for it to be … gone?
I wondered if Zuhra would know. I faltered when I remembered that she, too, was gone and not ahead of me on the trail. How long would it continue to take me by surprise that my sister was never coming back?
Hot tears burned down my cheeks as I forced myself to go faster, despite my toes catching on roots and little flares of pain spiking all over my feet from pine needles and rocks. The only small comfort was the answering flickers of heat—sparks of my power healing every small wound from the trail on my unprotected skin.
Another roar reverberated from below, but this time it was much closer, so loud I skidded to a stop, throwing my hands over my head instinctually.
Be brave, Inara. Zuhra would want you to be brave. She would be running down this trail to help the villagers.
My vision was still hazy and my cheeks were still wet, but I straightened and forced myself to pick up my speed. I still didn’t dare run, but it didn’t take much longer before I started to glimpse thatched roofs and other signs of the village between branches and leaves up ahead.
And hovering in the air above them all, the beast that had nearly killed me and Halvor before breaking out of the citadel.
A shudder as heavy as ice coating a window went through me. Not only from the monster, but from all those homes … all those people. I’d never liked the stories Zuhra read to me during awake hours about large villages or cities. I preferred the tales of sisters, or small families, living in the woods, secluded, alone. Like us. Safely ensconced behind the protection of the hedge—the protection I’d left behind. My heart raced, my blood throbbed, my mind roared.
Go back go back go back …
But now that I was close enough, I could hear the wailing—the cries and screams—and that finally spurred me forward. I had no clue what to say, or what I could do, only that I had to do something.
This was my fault.
I burst out of the trail and then skidded to a terrified halt near a clump of buildings.
Monster—Paladin witch—murderer—
Words shouted, flung, stabbed at us—at me—from beyond the hedge that I’d only heard once but it was enough to make my legs halt once more, fear choking the air from my throat. There were dirt pathways between the homes but they were abandoned. Cries sounded from further in the village. My gaze went to the sky, but the beast had momentarily disappeared.
More screams sounded, followed by a roar so thunderous it vibrated through me—something I not only heard but felt, all the way into my bones.
Be brave—like Zuhra.
I forced my feet to move, to dash between the homes, keeping to the shadows, eyes darting for signs of wounded that I could attend to. But there was no one … no sign of life. Where were all the villagers?
It wasn’t until I passed a window and happened to glance in that I realized where they were—hiding within their homes, huddled in groups, the whites of their eyes visible when their gazes met mine.
Don’t be afraid of me. I will help. I will do what I can.
I rushed by home after home, small cottages nestled together like the hens Sami kept in our courtyard.
And then—suddenly—the homes ended and I stumbled to a halt in a large open square, where a group of men and women stood in some sort of formation with their backs to each other, wielding bows, arrows, and long, deadly-looking spears. The monster was airborne again but its wings were even more shredded, and two arrows protruded from its chest. Its legs kicked in agony, its claws where hooves should have been opening and closing.
A terrible keening caught my focus and I whirled to see an older woman kneeling over the bloodied body of a much younger woman near another pathway between more homes, a sword covered in gore lying a foot from her prone body.
This was what I’d come for—this was what I could do. I could help her. If she had life remaining within her, I would find it and I would bring her back.
I rushed over and dropped to my knees next to the crying woman.
“I can help,” I said, reaching my hand out to place it on the girl’s still chest.
The woman looked up into my face and then screamed, “No!” and shoved me in the shoulder so hard it knocked me back onto my bottom on the hard ground, near the bloody sword. “Don’t you touch her, Paladin witch!”
An icy wave of disbelief was almost immediately overtaken by a rush of burning shame. “B-but I can help…” My voice broke and I cleared my throat roughly, humiliated to realize I was near tears.
“Get away from her!” The woman’s cheeks had mottled red. When she lunged at me I scrambled back until I collided with the wall of the home behind us with a painful thud.
Another roar exploded across the village, a long sound that shook the very ground beneath us. I looked up to see the beast snapping its jaws at a spear buried halfway into its chest. Taking advantage of the distraction, the villagers with bows loosed a volley of arrows, shredding the monster’s wings in a matter of moments. It tried to flap harder but the arrows had done their work; it careened sickly to the side, then tried to correct but instead plummeted toward the group of would-be protectors.
They screamed and scattered, moments before the monster’s body crashed to the earth, crushing several of the villagers not quick enough and skidding into a nearby cottage that crumbled at the impact, burying the beast in stone, mortar, and a cloud of dust.
“Inara!”
Halvor. He was alive—he was here—
Something cold and sharp pressed against my throat and I froze.
“Don’t move a muscle, or I will slit you open right now.” The woman who had ca
lled me a witch and refused to let me touch the dying girl pressed the bloody sword against my skin. “I have her!” she raised her voice. “I caught the witch responsible! She’s a Paladin! She did this!”
Spittle splattered against my cheek and I flinched. But I didn’t argue. My stomach turned to lead. I’d been foolish to come, to leave the safety of the hedge, to hope to help. I was responsible, and apparently I was to pay for it—and soon.
“It’s dead…”
“Was the king’s garrison summoned?”
“How did this happen? I thought they were all gone!”
“Jesper! No—Jesper!”
All across the square townspeople began to emerge, rushing to bodies lying strewn on the ground, staring at the now unmoving beast half-buried across the way … or turning to stare at me as my captor continued to shout.
“Let her go. Now.” Halvor’s cold command took us both by surprise and the woman jerked. The sword slipped, just enough to slice into my skin.
I sucked in a breath at the sharp pain and the immediate flair of heat within me as my power rushed to heal the wound she’d inadvertently inflicted.
“She did this! She killed my Toma!” The woman clutched the sword more tightly, but her arms trembled from the effort.
Halvor, disheveled and dirt-streaked, grabbed her arms and pulled her backward so fast she couldn’t harm me again. “She didn’t do this—she didn’t kill your daughter. If you would have let her try, she might have been able to save your daughter. She has the power to heal!”
“No.” The woman shook her head, her eyes going round and filling with tears. “No no no no!” Her entire body began to tremble, so violently that Halvor went from restraining her to supporting her. The sword fell from her grip, landing with a clatter on the rock-strewn earth in front of where I still knelt, prepared for the furious woman to dole out her version of justice. When Halvor gently released her, she crumpled to the ground and crawled to where her daughter lay, eyes open and unseeing, pressing her forehead to the girl’s chest, heedless of the blood, sobs wracking her body.
“Who is she?”
“Is she a Paladin?”
“Did she do this?”
Halvor reached out but I shook my head, wrapping my arms around myself. “I won’t let them hurt you,” he murmured, and tried again, bending over to slip his hand through mine and tugging me to my feet. My legs shook as though the reverberations from the beast crashing to the earth were still quaking the ground beneath me. Halvor squeezed my hand and turned, angling his body to cover most of mine, but not releasing my hand. The villagers not busy attending to the wounded or dying began to encircle us, closing in, their fear quickly transmuting into fury now that the immediate danger was gone.
I tried to disentangle our hands, but Halvor held on tight. “They’re going to think you’re with me,” I protested.
“I am with you,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at me briefly, his eyes flashing warm honey-gold in the sunlight that seemed at complete odds with the horrific morning. It should have been a crimson sunrise, sunlight slashing through ebony clouds, dismal rain pelting the blood-soaked earth; instead the breeze had blown the sky a clear, endless azure, the sun blazing above us as cheery and bright as ever.
But nothing warmed me more than Halvor’s words and the firm grip of his hand on mine.
I am with you.
“Get away from her!”
“That witch killed my Jesper!”
“Stop it, all of you!” Halvor bellowed—more loudly than I thought him capable of; he’d always seemed so quiet, a man driven by intellect and the pursuit of information and learning. But he was formidable enough to make the villagers pause. “She is not the enemy!”
Another man pushed his way through the gathering crowd, an older man, with Sami following in his wake. Her hair and hands were streaked with blood. My lungs tightened, I suddenly couldn’t draw enough breath, but Sami must have read the panic rising on my face because she called out, “It’s not mine! I’m fine!”
“Step away from the Paladin girl.” Another voice spoke up, this one deep and authoritative.
Rather than obey what sounded like an order to me, Halvor took a half step backward, closer to me. “She did not do this to you. She wouldn’t hurt anyone—she’s a healer. She saved my life from wounds inflicted by that beast this morning!”
I peeked over his shoulder to see a very large man marching toward us, one hand holding a bow and the other gripping a short sword. His dark beard and clothes were speckled with dust and debris—he must have been very close to the cottage that had collapsed on top of the beast’s dead body.
“Only a Paladin could have allowed a rakasa back into Vamala.” The man’s voice was like rocks grinding together, raspy and low and utterly terrifying. “And the only Paladin I see is that girl. So, I will ask you one more time. Step away from her. Now.”
“I will not. She did nothing wrong!”
The man lifted his sword. The crowd gasped. The older man by Sami jumped forward with a protest. But before anyone could do anything, I slipped out from behind Halvor and faced the bearded man with the sword and the rest of the village.
“Inara, what are you doing?”
I ignored Halvor’s protest, his desperate tug on my arm.
Be brave, Inara. Be brave like Zuhra. “I did save his life this morning.” I tried to keep my voice from shaking, but it was impossible when my entire body trembled like the last leaf on a dying branch being buffeted by a storm. “But you are right, it is my fault the rakasa came.”
“Inara—no!”
A burst of sound erupted from the gathered crowd and the bearded man’s lips pursed together into a line so tight, all color was erased from them.
“I didn’t mean to—it was an accident! And I lost my sister because of it! I came here to try and help your wounded!” But no one was listening to anything else I had to say.
“You see? She admits it!”
“Paladin witch!”
“Kill her now!”
“No, she wouldn’t hurt a spider! Please—you don’t understand!” This last was from Sami, who bustled to my side, her eyes wide, pupils dilated with fear.
“Silence!” the bearded man roared, and the square fell quiet. Sami grabbed my other hand, so that I stood sequestered between her and Halvor, facing the entire town. “You admit that you brought the monster to Vamala?” He lifted his sword, not to threaten but to point at me, his surprisingly light eyes narrowing.
“I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know—” I stammered. Somehow my face and neck were hot while the rest of me felt as cold as the ice that coated my gardens in the midst of winter. “I came here to help. I wanted to help,” I finally offered lamely.
Something flickered across the bearded man’s face—a hint of pity or perhaps sadness—but he merely shook his head and proclaimed, “Then, as the constable of Gateskeep, I hereby place you under arrest, charged with the crime of using Paladin magic to bring harm to the peoples of Vamala, to await the arrival of the king’s guards and thence receive your just punishment.”
“No! You can’t do this! She’s just a child!” Sami pushed me behind her.
“Mahsami, I suggest you remove yourself, or else I will be forced to place you under arrest as well.” The bearded man stepped toward us.
“Don’t do this, Javan. She’s like Hasanni. She didn’t know—she doesn’t know what she’s doing right now!”
That same flicker crossed Javan’s face again, but he clenched his jaw and lifted his sword to point it at Sami this time. “Move aside. This is your last warning.”
The gathered crowd surged closer, pressing in on the four of us.
“Just kill her now—before she can hurt any more of us!”
“You can’t trust a Paladin!”
I’d been scared many times in my life, but I’d never felt more terrified than the moment that Sami released my hand and stepped away, with a whispered, “It’s going to be o
kay, Inara. I won’t let them do this to you. I promise.”
But her words were swallowed up by the jeers and shouts as Javan grabbed my arm and quickly yanked me around, ripping my other hand from Halvor’s grip, and twisting my arms behind my back.
“I believe that you might not have known what you were doing,” Javan bent forward to murmur in my ear, a low rumble of sound, “but that doesn’t change your guilt. I’m sorry, but the law demands justice.”
“What is the punishment?” I somehow managed the words past my quivering lips.
There was a pause, and then, “Death.”
And with that, he roughly shoved me forward, toward the sea of dusty, bloody, angry faces demanding their form of justice.
Demanding my death.
TWENTY-FOUR
ZUHRA
The woman marching toward us seemed ageless—and more than a little terrifying. My father’s warning that her gruffness was just bravado did little to reassure me as her piercing blue eyes landed on me and widened momentarily before narrowing. Her hair was the color of fire, brilliant shades of red and orange, streaked through with strands of white ash, and her skin was an even darker olive than my father’s. Her glowing blue eyes stood out starkly as she stormed up to where I tried not to cower next to my father and Raidyn.
Rather than attempting to escape what appeared to be the building fury in the Paladin woman descending on us, the rest of the battalion subtly drew closer to their leader and to me—though that was more by default, I assumed, than by a desire to protect someone they didn’t even know.
“Adelric, that is a human,” Ederra bit out by way of greeting when she halted a few feet from where we stood, her eyes flashing in a way that made me want to duck and cover my head.
“Yes. And she is also your granddaughter” was his succinct response.
A strangled noise came from my throat and I flushed. I attempted to smile—but my lips twisted, only one half even lifting, as I flinched back from the fury on her face. Great first impression, Zuhra.
“Hello,” I tried again and then snapped my mouth shut when my grandmother’s eyebrows lifted, her burning eyes raking over me. Raidyn coughed next to me, but I had a sneaking suspicion he was really attempting to hide a laugh. I’d never had the urge to elbow someone in the stomach before in my life, until that moment. Focus, I coached myself. You have to impress her. This woman holds the power to get you back to Inara.
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