“I …” His eyes shifted to Kapriel and then back to her. “I think … yes, I think I am.”
She gave him a knowing smile. “In a moment, I believe the Maker will affirm that belief. Pray with me. All of you, reach out and touch her and pray with me. She is moments away from breathing her last.”
We all did as she asked, and I laid a hand on the woman’s shoulder, her skin terrifyingly cold. And as Tressa sank deeply into prayer, pleading with the Maker who had created Justina in her mother’s womb to now wash the poisons from her body, to flush the toxins away, to bring her back to us, whole again, I could feel the Spirit draw closer, surrounding us with a rush that was better than the company of angels. The hair on the back of my neck and arms stood on end and I smiled, reveling in the presence. On and on, Tressa prayed, committing Justina’s life and future to the Maker, not begging him to heal her, but rather more like simply waiting on him to do what we believed he wanted to do.
Justina’s flesh began to warm. I sensed that her breathing slowed. She seemed calmer, as if her entire body was allowing the tension to slide away. Her skin began to pinken again. And then her eyes opened, her long lashes fluttering in confusion, trying to focus.
Lord Cyrus wept, laughing. “Justina? Oh, my love? Justina?”
“C-Cyrus?” she said, turning her face to him. “What happened? Where …” But then her eyes widened as she looked around at all of us. “Is it possible?” she asked, sitting up and gazing around at us in wonder, covering her mouth as if we ourselves were angels. She accepted Cyrus’s embrace and kisses, but her eyes remained on us. “Am I dreaming?”
“No, sister,” Kapriel said with a grin, taking her hand. “You are here, in Community. At long last.”
If it was possible, her eyes widened even further, when she saw him, this time in sudden terror, then confusion. “You are not …” She glanced toward Cyrus. “This is not the emperor.”
“No, this is Prince Kapriel, Justina.”
Understanding dawned. “My prince,” she said immediately, reverently bowing her head.
Kapriel put a finger under her chin and lifted it. “You bow to no one, Justina. You are a free woman here. Servant only of the Maker and our Community.”
She nodded, smiling, but then her eyes grew curious again, clearly wondering how she got here.
But Cyrus was looking about at all of us, and rising. “I am forever in your debt. I will serve you and your cause in any way I can. I’ll leave the Council immediately and —”
“No,” Kapriel said, walking over to him. “I’m afraid I must ask you to do something far more dangerous than that. I need you to return to Pacifica.”
My heart leaped. He was sending him back to Keallach?
“Back?” Cyrus said.
“Yes. We need a friend inside Keallach’s Council. A spy. As well as a friend for Andriana.”
“Someone to help us take them down from within,” Killian said.
“Tell us, is Andriana well? Can you help us get to her?” I asked.
Cyrus looked at me. “She is well. But she is constantly guarded by the Sheolites. And the emperor …” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.
“I don’t know how long I’d be of use to you. If they find out I was here, with you …” Cyrus said, fear making his expression grim.
“They’ll kill you,” Kapriel finished for him. “It is frightening. I ask much of you. But will you do it?”
Cyrus looked around at all of us, and his eyes steeled with decision. “I will. I will serve you, the Maker, and your people — our people — in any way I can. Perhaps if you can reign, you can bring Pacifica back to the Way too.”
Kapriel nodded in understanding. The two stepped away to confer in low tones for several minutes. When they returned, Justina slipped into Cyrus’s embrace and he kissed her temple. “You must stay here. Whoever tried to kill you might try again.”
She nodded, through her tears. “Come back to me, Cyrus.”
“I’ll do everything I can to do so,” he pledged. “But first I must do this.”
She nodded again.
Cyrus rubbed the back of his neck. “The castle wall guards know I left with her. They’ll want to know why I am not returning with her.”
“What reason did you tell them you were leaving, without guard?” I asked.
His face colored. “I said I wanted … time alone with her,” he said. “It was all I could think of,” he hurried on. “They thought her drunk on evening wine.”
My mind raced. “Take me,” I said. “Say that you two were attacked. Justina killed. And that I was your attacker, a wretched Knight of the Last Order and sworn enemy of Pacifica.” I looked to Niero. “You all break camp now and disappear. We’ll return to the castle just before daybreak, me as Cyrus’s prisoner, to give you time to gain some distance.”
“They’ll take you directly to Keallach!” Lord Cyrus said, mouth partially agape. “To the Six! We’re heading back to Pacifica tomorrow. You’ll be beaten, man! Placed in the palace dungeon.”
“I hope so,” I said, waiting on him to understand my goal.
Killian was smiling now. “About as close as he could possibly get to his Remnant,” he said.
“You sly dog, you!” Vidar said, punching me in the arm. “That’s crazy-stupid, but also crazy-brave.”
“I like it,” Bellona said, taking my arm as a fellow Knight. “Let us come with you.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I do this alone. I can’t risk any more of you. And no one would buy it — that Cyrus could fight and capture more than one of us. If the Maker sees to it, we’ll find some way back out of that palace.” I nodded toward Cyrus. “With his help.”
The young lord visibly paled again, and he looked up to the top of the tent, hands on his face for a moment, then back to Justina and Kapriel. Finally to me. He nodded once. “I’m with you. To the end.”
“To the end, I am with you too, brother,” I said, taking his arm in mine and cementing our pledge. Hope entered my heart for the first time since I’d watched the ship holding Andriana steam away around the river’s bend.
I’m coming, Dri. Hold on. Just hold on.
CHAPTER
28
ANDRIANA
I awakened to sunlight streaming through the window and the maids arriving. I heard the sound of water running and knew that they would dip me in and see to my hair and dress me in short order. A doll in her new clothing, I thought grimly. Another day, another fight to lose.
But as I stared at the sunlight, which seemed so wrong in a place that I felt was so covered by darkness, I reached out to the Maker. I’m so weary. I’ve disappointed you. Failed you. You chose me wrongly. There must have been another who would have done better.
But the light became stronger, a stream alive with dust motes dancing, the long curtain beside the window fluttering slightly in the breeze. It was the window that Sethos had stood by last night. And yet now … the light. I took a long, deep breath. You cannot give in to what you feel, Andriana. You have to remember what you know to be true.
Truth.
A maid asked me a question but I ignored her. My hand slipped to my hip and traced the place where I knew my birthmark to be. The crescent moon. A sign of something bigger to come. Of hope. Of light. Of fight.
I threw back my covers and sat up quickly. I would bathe and dress. And while they saw to me, I would concentrate on what I knew to be true. That I was born for a purpose. That I hadn’t betrayed those I loved. I’d fought my adversary at every corner. Sure, I’d lost battles here and there. But this was a war. A war!
I moved toward the bath and undressed, brushing away the hands of the maids, wanting to do this myself. Naked, I stepped down into the hot, steaming waters, relishing the wince of pain as if it might sear away everything wrong and against the Maker that had crept into my mind and heart. I didn’t stop, even as my body begged me to, as I entered the center of the pool where it was deepe
st and I could dip down and below, letting the water cover my head. I stayed under, massaging my scalp, my face, my ears, my neck, my shoulders, as if I could scrub it away. Sethos. The Six. Even Keallach, if necessary. He was distant. A pawn to Sethos, as I very nearly was myself. Was he within reach of redemption? Possibly. But he’d have to make his way himself. There was only so much I could do. And right now, all I knew was that I had to be free of this place. I had to escape. Before I became one of them.
I rose from the water, gasping for breath, and the maids wheeled back, laughing at my splashing as if I played.
“Well, someone’s eager to get through her bath and see the emperor,” said the matronly one. “She’s smitten, I’d say!”
I bit my tongue and forced myself not to grimace. “I’d like to wear leggings today,” I said.
“Leggings!” she responded. “Impossible! There’s not a lady in the land that —”
“I’d like to wear leggings and a tunic,” I insisted. I pretended a sly grin. “The emperor said last night that I was setting trends already. Perhaps leggings on ladies will be the next thing.” I leaned my head back agreeably as the younger one reached forward to lather my hair. She worked the lavender-scented suds through the strands, and then gestured for me to dip. When I rose, I looked at the matronly one again. “So? Is it possible?”
She looked every bit as chagrined and pained as she felt, as if I’d forced her into a terrible corner. But I didn’t relent.
“Well, you’re tall, but you’re thin. Perhaps I can find a pair that would fit.”
“That’d be grand. What’s your name?”
“Halla, m’lady.”
“That’s wonderful, Halla. I’ll be certain to tell the emperor what a fine aide you are to me.”
She smiled at that, and her spirits buoyed. The others sparked with agitation and jealousy, and the younger girl tried to do an extra good job as she spread an oil through my hair next, one that would keep it from tangling. After I took the sponge and bar of soap and saw to the rest of my bath myself, I rose, wrapped a long towel around me, and gave in to the two maids who would see to my hair while Halla set off to find my leggings and tunic.
“Oh, and please remember to bring me a tunic and boots too,” I called lightly as she left, adding the boots to my list as if I’d already asked for them.
She froze. “M’lady, that’s impossible.”
“Is it?” I asked, careful to look confused. “Weren’t you just thinking you knew of a way to obtain the leggings?”
She looked caught, horrified, and I smiled. “Don’t worry, Halla. Remember, I have the emperor’s favor, and you have mine!” I said brightly. “I only hope to entice the emperor into a bit of archery today.” I waggled my eyebrows. “Or better yet, a bit of sparring. I can hardly make it interesting for him in the confines of a Pacifican gown.”
“No, no, m’lady,” she said, sounding anything but convinced. But she left then, presumably to do as I asked.
The girls beside me remained silent. I knew they found me shameful, unworthy with my outlandish requests. But that was all right by me. When one reached to powder my face, I blocked her hand. “No. Nothing on my face at all.”
“Are you certain?” she asked, aghast.
“Beyond certain,” I said, staring at my reflection. And for the first time in a long while, it seemed, I smiled an earnest smile.
Once I pulled my tunic over the leggings and cinched tight the belt, I turned toward the mirror and smiled again. I felt free. More myself than I had in days. My fingers itched to hold a sword. I actually hoped that Keallach might favor a bit of sparring. It would feel good to loosen up those muscles, to remember the ways that I seemed to have buried. I even thought that I was strong enough to do actual battle, if it came to it.
“Please, will you send word to the emperor?” I said to Halla. “Tell him I’m inviting him to the south lawn for a bit of sport?”
She wrung her hands. “There’s difficulty in that, m’lady. When I stepped out for your tray a moment ago, I heard that the emperor, well, he’s away on Pacifican business. He’s not due back for a few days.”
Her words stopped my flood of hope like a hard slap to my cheek. “What? He-he left?”
She patted my shoulder awkwardly. “Don’t fret, m’lady. He’ll be back in a few days. Men are like that, you know. Even men as refined as our emperor. Given to do as they please without ever informing the women.”
I nodded, accepting her misinterpreted response, but chafing inside. But then it came to me. Maybe this was my perfect opportunity to escape. There’d be time for Keallach to follow if he was truly led away from the dark. If he was meant to be with us and had the strength to face his own sins. I hoped he would. But now, clearly now, I had to leave this place. Regain my strength. Rejoin the Ailith and my fellow Remnants. And tell them what I knew. The awful, awful news about our sister and brother who would never join us. Niero would know what to do, where to go, how to proceed. Niero always knew.
Thoughts of each of them sent joy through my heart. I thought quickly. “It’s a shame Keallach is gone,” I said. “Perhaps the Six are still here? Or did they go with him?”
“Only Lord Sethos went with him,” she said uncertainly.
“Excellent,” I said, thinking about the Six, and their casual, assuming ways. Would it not be something if Lord Cyrus stood with me and we turned arrow and sword on the other five? Would it not remove a critical barrier between Keallach and the Remnants? It was they who held him captive here, as surely as Sethos did. I couldn’t take down Sethos without my fellow Ailith about me. But five of the Six? I smiled. They had thought they would capture me, control me. But they would find out what it meant to face a Remnant of the Maker, sent to destroy those like them and free the oppressed.
“Summon them to the south lawn. And bring refreshments.” The words were odd on my tongue, a mere mimicking of what I’d heard from the men around me. But I delivered them with such force and assumption that the women scurried off to do as I bid.
I shoved away my concerns of past battles, of how emotions crippled me. I was stronger now. I’d learned a lot, and the Maker had reminded me of what I needed to concentrate on. I closed my eyes and thought of my trainer, and of Asher, and of Niero holding my hands and willing me to remember what they said.
But I couldn’t take them all down. Even if Cyrus decided to stand with me. It was foolhardy. They wouldn’t expect such a move from me, but would it be wiser to steal my way through the palace, killing them, one by one?
When I thought of it that way, the first pang of regret swung through me, like the pendulum on a clock. I faltered. Did I have enough warrior in me to fight this fight? If it meant I got a step closer to freeing Keallach and rejoining the Ailith?
It was complicated. But I knew if I continued to go back and forth, I might very well lose the momentum I needed to fuel my courage.
Halla returned, far too quickly to have done what I asked. She was wringing her hands. Behind her, I saw two Pacifican guards in their gray uniforms and two Sheolites in red waiting in the hall.
“M’lady, the Six are already assembled in chambers,” Halla said, glancing back to the men. “They’ve requested you join them.” I saw, then, what alarmed her, as she looked me over from head to toe, knowing the Six might hold her responsible for my unorthodox dress.
My pulse quickened. “It’s all right. It will be all right.” Perhaps this was just the opportunity I needed to challenge them for some sport and take them by surprise.
Halla reached out and grabbed my arm. “You must change.”
“Nonsense,” I said, pulling away. I felt more myself in these clothes than I ever did in the Pacifican gown.
Halla gaped at me in horror, probably fearing for her position, but I ignored her. It was high time that these people learned that a woman couldn’t be tamed by simply putting her in a dress.
I strode toward the door and gestured out while looking at the Sheolites.
“Well? Let’s get on with it.”
“We cannot take you into chambers, m’lady, without the proper clothing,” sneered one red-robed guard.
“Your emperor will allow me to wear anything I wish. Shall I summon him?” I said, pretending ignorance.
“He’s away.”
“There’s a reason I’m dressed this way, and it has to do with the Six. Take me to them, and I’ll explain it to them myself.”
The leader shrugged and gestured for us to go. Two Pacifican guards led the way, with the two Sheolites behind me.
“What did the Six say they wanted of me?”
“They didn’t, m’lady,” said one Pacifican congenially over his shoulder. He dared to give me an encouraging look. “I’m sure it’s a small matter.”
He believed his own words, I was certain of it. He was apparently as taken in by the emperor’s “consort” as everyone else in the ballroom had been three nights ago; I could feel it. If I was good enough to win Keallach’s heart, then I was good enough for these people. It gave me chills, their blind devotion, their mindless support. Was it Sethos’s work, behind the curtains, that allowed this show to go on? As Pacifica grew, if they were able to usurp the Trading Union, that band of power would be more challenging to maintain. Undoubtedly, that is what lead them to summon me.
The men led me downstairs to the first floor, then down a northern hallway of the palace that I’d never been in. These appeared to be Keallach’s public rooms and offices. At the very end of the hall we entered a large, wood paneled room, with an elaborate oil painting on the ceiling. It depicted the sky with a noble female figure dressed in white and carrying a scale in one hand and a sword in the other. Lady Justice, I thought she was called.
But my eyes went immediately to the Six sitting in the wooden chairs — elaborate thrones, really — that were part of the paneling on the long wall. The men, all large, looked somewhat dwarfed in them. I was led across the marble flooring to a single chair sitting dead-center in the room, a good distance from the Six. “Sit,” said Jala, and I obediently did as I was told.
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