by Kate L. Mary
I paused when I reached the point where the Lygan Cliffs died off, my gaze moving down to the rock Mira and I used to stash our weapons under.
Were they still there? When we fled the city that last day, we had gone out through the tunnel and traveled through the wastelands, never returning here to retrieve our weapons. It was possible someone else collected them—like Xandra when she led the other Outliers to safety—but I doubted it.
Curious, I knelt and set my bow down so I could move the rock. My fingers had just curled under it, were just working to pry it up, when a shout rang through the air.
Scrambling, I reached for my discarded weapon, my gaze already moving toward the wall where I was certain a group of Fortis guards would be bearing down on me. No one was there, though, and when the person slammed into me, it was from the opposite direction. From the cliffs.
“Traitor!” Emori’s voice rang through the air, shaking with anger.
She brought her arm up only to slam it down, her fist hitting my face. When she raised it again, I lifted my own hands in a defensive move, hoping to block her blows.
“Emori!” I called, trying to get through to her. “Stop! You do not know what you are doing!”
She did not let up, did not answer when I shouted her name, did not ease in her attack.
Emori was still swinging her arms when she was ripped away, still sputtering as Linc dragged her back.
“Enough, Emori,” he called. “Stop!”
“Xandra has returned from the city,” I shouted as I scrambled to my feet, once again trying to get her to listen. “She is at the caves. Alive.”
She stopped fighting Linc, but her anger did not ease. When she jerked away, he released her, but remained close, his expression weary.
“And your man?” Emori spit at me. “Has he come back, or has he returned to his people?”
“He is still in the city,” I said as calmly as I could considering the heat moving through me. “Nyko returned with Xandra. They were both beaten inside the city, but the Sovereign let them go. They sent them as a warning.”
“What kind of warning?” Linc asked.
“You know what kind of warning,” I said, not having to fake my cool tone when I answered him. “It is not the warning that matters, though, but what they want.”
“What do they want?” Linc asked, while Emori stood silently at his side, seething.
“Me,” I replied.
“You?” Emori spit out.
“Yes. I have come to deliver myself to them.”
She let out a laugh that was thick with bitterness. “You expect me to believe you did not come here to finish me off?”
“You know as well as I do that you left me with no choice,” I said. “I could have killed you, but I chose to show you mercy.”
“Mercy?” Emori’s eyebrows shot up. She waved to her face, and I had to fight the urge to cringe away from the cuts on her cheeks. “Does this look like mercy to you? It is something the Sovereign would have done. Marring a person for life is them,” Emori waved toward the city, “not us.”
“Attacking one another is also them,” I replied coolly. “Not us.”
Emori narrowed her dark eyes, but said nothing.
“You are really going into the city?” Linc asked.
I looked the former members of my tribe over, trying to figure them out. Linc had left because he did not want a woman as Head, and yet here he stood, a step behind Emori. Clearly deferring to her leadership. It was an irony I doubted he could see and not one I wished to point out.
“I am.”
I felt the anger slide out of me with the words. The little time I had left on this earth would be filled with enough hate; I did not want to direct it at the people in front of me now. Not even the woman who had tried to slit my throat.
Linc opened his mouth as if to speak, but he was cut off when Emori charged toward me. He reached for her while I took a step back, but neither of us was successful. I stumbled over the bow I had discarded when I reached the rock, and Linc was too slow. Emori had me in a blink, her arms around me and a knife at my throat.
She pressed her face against mine. “You want to see the Sovereign? Let me deliver you to them.”
Linc stumbled after us as Emori pulled me backward, heading for the wall.
“What are you doing?” he called.
“I am taking her into the city.”
“If you go in there, you will die!” he called back.
Emori paused for just a moment, long enough for me to believe she was going to change her mind. Then she said, “You cannot see it, can you? I am already dead.”
She spun around then, pulling me with her and dragging me toward the wall. We stumbled through the former Fortis village, over the bodies and debris left behind from the battle. Ash puffed up around us, filling my nostrils, and the putrid scent of death hung heavy in the air. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied a grizzard feasting on something, and the day I was almost killed during the attack on the city came back to me.
The bird was too happy with his current meal and paid us no mind as Emori dragged me past him.
“Can you feel it?” she said when we had reached the halfway point in the village.
It was where I had stood with Ronan at my feet, unconscious after having his hand cut off, facing Thorin and knowing there was no escape. Only there had been, and it had come in the form of Asa.
“Can you feel them staring at you?” Emori said, pulling me forward when my feet tripped over a corpse. “I feel it at night when I lay down. They call out to me, and I know it will not be long before I join them in the underworld.”
“Do not do this,” I gasped, feeling the prick of the knife against my throat. “Save yourself, Emori.”
“There is no saving me,” she replied.
Her arms slid away, the knife leaving my throat, but in a moment she had my forearm in her grip and was dragging me instead of pushing me. She looked like a woman possessed, her focus on the gate in front of us, her jaw set as she moved faster, pulling me along.
The figure came from the right, big and hulking, and I knew before he spoke it was a Fortis guard. It was no surprise—we had known they would not leave the city unguarded after what had happened—but the sight of him still filled me with terror.
“Outliers,” he growled before charging.
His body slamming into mine was twice as jarring as Emori’s had been, and it sent all three of us to the ground. The Fortis guard landed on top of me, and the salty stink of his body odor joined the other aromas already swirling through my nostrils.
“Hold still,” he muttered, grappling to get a good hold on me as if I were resisting instead of totally immobilized under him.
“I have delivered her!” I heard Emori shout. “The mistress of the House of Saffron is expecting her.”
The man must have recognized the name, because he paused in his feeble attempts to subdue me and looked me over. He resembled every other Fortis guard. Big, broad, and filthy, his teeth rotting away in his mouth, his hair long and disheveled as if he had given up trying to maintain it a decade ago.
“Indra.”
Although it should not have, not after two people had been sent into the wilds to give me a message, hearing my name on his lips sent a jolt through me. It was the only chance I had to react, though, because the next thing I knew, the creak of the gate filled the air and I was pulled to my feet.
17
Asa
Hours had gone by since Nyko and Xandra were dragged out of Saffron’s house and I’d been taken back to my dark cell. I’d tried to doze, tried to grab a few precious minutes of rest so I was ready for what was to come, but I couldn’t. The anticipation was too much. The dread too great.
She would come. I knew she would. I hated the thought of seeing her again because I knew it would mean neither of us would leave this city alive, but at the same time, I reveled in it.
Would they give us a chance to talk, to be togethe
r? Would they allow us that much comfort before they killed us?
I couldn’t imagine it. The Sovereign didn’t care about our comfort. They didn’t care if we got to say our goodbyes. When Indra’s first husband was killed, they threw him into one cell while Indra was sent to another, not even allowing them a moment to talk. We would be no different.
Minutes ticked away, but still no one came. Eventually, I fell asleep, drifting into a dream world where Indra and I were together in the caves, her in my arms, her body warm against mine. Her lips soft and needy, moving against my mouth.
She whispered the words I’d longed to hear for years. “I love you.” And they comforted me as I drifted deeper into my dream world.
18
Indra
I tried to prepare myself for what was to come, but when I stepped into the city and the gate shut behind me, I realized what an impossible task it had been. Nothing could have prepared me for what it felt like to once again be surrounded by these walls. To walk the streets where I had been witness to—and even on occasion endured—so much pain. To have people cloaked in red robes stop and stare as I was dragged by, the streetlights shining down on them and casting dark shadows across their hooded faces and blocking out every feature.
Everything in Sovereign City towered over me, the walls and buildings tall enough to obstruct most of the light from the swiftly setting sun. This city was a cold place, the streets made of the same gray stone as the walls and houses, without even a drop of nature visible. It was all gray, all stone. As cold and lifeless as Saffron’s eyes had always seemed.
Saffron. How I dreaded seeing her and her son.
The Fortis man who tackled me outside the wall did not let go even after the gate was shut, but instead held my arm in a crushing grip. He moved fast, taking long strides that my short legs could not keep up with, meaning I was practically dragged through the city. At my back, a second man had Emori, who fought and screamed with each step, but I did not look back to see how she was faring. I did not care. Could not. Not now. She had made her choice and I had made mine, and now we would both face the consequences of those decisions.
The closer we got to Saffron’s house, the harder my heart pounded. It was like the thud of a thousand footsteps. That was how it felt, too. Like feet were pounding against me, trying to stomp me to death. A part of me wished they would, because it would probably be a far less torturous death than what I was about to face.
The house came into view, dark and cold, tall and imposing. Foreboding. The very sight of it made my stomach convulse. Dozens of memories flooded my mind. The feel of Lysander’s hand as it groped, and the scratch of his stubble against my face. His moist skin. Saffron’s cold eyes and the scent of leather. The sting of the whip against my palms.
My steps faltered, but I was no match for the man dragging me forward. He did not slow no matter how much I tried to pull against his grip. It was futile, and I knew it, but I could not get my body to obey, not when I knew what awaited me.
As we drew closer, another memory surfaced. Cowering on the street as a grizzard soared through the air, its yellow eyes focused on me. How certain I had been that I was staring death in the face, and Asa coming to my rescue.
Asa. I remembered how he had pulled the dead bird off me, how he had looked me over as if searching for any sign that I was hurt. The desire to comfort me had been obvious. It had made his brown eyes shimmer and softened his features until he looked nothing like a Fortis guard.
I clung to the memory, and the tighter I held onto it, the more I seemed to be able to focus on Asa and everything that had happened between us here in this very city. This place of torture was where we had fallen in love. Him long before I was free to love him back, me slowly and subtly. I now knew the softness I had felt for him back then was a seed that had eventually grown into something much bigger than either of us could have predicted, and that as much as I had loved Bodhi, and as happy as we had been, Asa had claimed a part of my heart even before my husband died.
Asa. He was why I was here. Thinking about him, holding onto the memories of the man I loved with every inch of my being, gave me the strength I needed as we turned into the alley that would lead us to Saffron’s house. It gave me peace, so that when I passed the threshold into the mudroom, the memories that surfaced were not of Lysander, but of Asa. Of how he had protected Mira and me, how he had held my hand the day Bodhi was captured. In the kitchen, my thoughts did not go to the pantry, but to how Asa’s fingertips would brush mine as he passed me a plate. How he had looked me over, his brown eyes saying things he did not dare speak aloud.
These memories and feelings followed me through the house, wrapping me in comfort, so that when I finally found myself pulled into the study and stood face to face with Saffron, I was able to stand tall. Could lift my head and look her straight in the eye like I was the one who held all the power.
The mistress of the house had not changed.
We stood eye-to-eye, equals in height if nothing else. As always, the electric lights gave her pale skin a waxy appearance, and her hair, piled on top of her head, matched the gray irises that studied me with cool authority.
“Indra.” My name was a hiss on her lips, which curled up, pulling her skin tighter than seemed possible.
“I have come for my husband.”
Her mouth turned down, but only in one corner. “As strong as you’ve proven yourself to be, you’re still weak. Allowing love to lead to your downfall.” She let out a small laugh that made her sound as if she were choking. “You should have stayed where you were and let the Fortis man die.”
Behind me, Emori let out a growl that made it seem like she agreed with Saffron.
The mistress’s eyes flitted past me, and I looked over my shoulder to find Emori still in the clutches of the Fortis man, still fighting, her dark brown eyes flashing with rage.
“Who is this?” Saffron asked.
Emori had worked in this house as well, and even though more than two years had passed, Saffron should have recognized her, but the questioning look in the Sovereign woman’s eyes told me she did not.
“These two Outliers were together,” the Fortis guard who dragged me through the city said.
“We are not together.” Emori paused long enough to spit on the floor at my feet, earning her a frown from Saffron. “I brought her here. To turn her in.”
The mistress’s frown deepened.
Saffron said nothing at first, and her eyes stayed on Emori, looking the other woman over with a cool gaze that betrayed none of her thoughts or emotions. After a moment, she looked toward me, and then back at Emori. Silent. Thoughtful.
Then Saffron took a step toward the other woman. “What are these marks on your face? These cuts?”
Knowing Saffron was referring to the marks I had cut into Emori’s cheeks made it impossible to look back at my former ally. Now, more than ever before, the guilt over what I had done pressed into me.
“It is a punishment,” Emori said. “I was cast out of my tribe.”
“Why?” Saffron asked, her voice level. Emotionless.
“I tried to kill Indra.”
Saffron’s eyebrows lifted, but still her eyes remained emotionless. “I see.” She turned back to me, striding across the room until we were once again face-to-face. “So, the alliance you created with the other tribes has crumbled.”
It was not a question, and I was familiar enough with this woman to know she did not require an answer, but it gave me an idea.
“The other tribes do not like that I married a Fortis guard. They do not trust him.” I lifted my chin. “But we are still united.”
“I can imagine,” Saffron said simply, but for once her expression did not remain neutral, and the pleasure flashing in her eyes gave her feelings away.
She thought we were weak. Thought my marriage to Asa had torn us apart. Emori had dragged me into the city with the hope of watching me die, but she had inadvertently helped our cause. The Soverei
gn would not expect the Outliers to still be working together. Not after this. Hopefully, it would give Roan and Ontari the advantage, and no one would be on the lookout for them tomorrow when they headed for the tower.
The rumble of a male voice in the other room wrenched my thoughts from the Outliers and flung me back in time. My entire body reacted by stiffening. Every muscle, every tendon, drew tight until I felt as if I were made of the same hard stone as the wall.
“She’s here?” Footsteps followed the question, booming like thunder. “Where is she?”
Emori, too, must have recognized the voice, because behind me she let out a snarl that made me think of a wild animal. That was what she had turned into under her desperate need for retribution. A feral creature that could think of nothing else.
I had no desire to turn, did not even think it would be possible with how stiff my body was, but I found myself doing it anyway. Found my entire body twisting to face the door.
Although the thud of his boots came quick and loud, when Lysander stepped into the room, his movements seemed slow and calculating. He paused just past the threshold, gray eyes moving to take everything in, and not stopping until he had located me.
His eyes looked small in his round face. Set too deep, too far apart. As always, his skin was red, as if just walking into the room had bordered on overexertion. The sweat beaded on his forehead only served to emphasize the impression, as did the thin wisps of hair clinging to his scalp. He was rounder, his skin more yellow, his fingers meatier and his eyes hungrier than ever before as he looked me over.
“Indra.” My name oozed from lips like oil being poured from a bottle. Slow and slippery.
He moved toward me, his gaze as cool as his mother’s but not nearly as calculating. It was zeroed on me so that he did not even register Emori’s presence when he passed her. The other woman’s arm was still clutched in the Fortis guard’s grasp, and at Lysander’s arrival, her efforts to free herself had doubled. She twisted, clawed, and hissed out words that sounded inhuman.