Lilith held her blade to strike Velia, but then stopped, her arm mid-air. “Velia?” She grabbed the altar to maintain her balance. She needed the blade’s magic, so she needed the Oathtaker alive—at least for now. Screeching with frustration, she threw a stream of magic out at her.
Velia gasped and choked. Seconds later, she fell back with a scream, hitting her head on the pillar. Down, down, her body sank slowly to the floor.
Dixon looked up. Velia had created the distraction that Mara needed. When Nina’s eyes opened wide at the sight of her, Mara pushed her toward the back door, then stood where she’d been a moment before, her hood pulled up to conceal her identity.
Slowly, Velia made it back to her feet.
Lilith threw more magic at her.
The impact, when it made contact, sent the Oathtaker back to her knees. She cried out.
“You bore me,” Lilith said. “I’d kill you right now if I didn’t need your blade.” She started turning back toward the altar.
“Wait, Lilith!” Dixon cried. “What’s the point of all this? Turn back from this. Please, Lilith.”
She shook her head. “The point,” she said with a sneer, “is that after I sacrifice those girls,” she continued as she pointed to where Mara stood, “on this altar,” she went on as she slapped the altar behind her, “with this blade,” she said as she brandished Velia’s blade, “then Rowena’s line will be over and Ehyeh’s reign will cease. I’ll have all the power. And I’ll be immortal!” She laughed. “Come here, Nina. Now. Or you’ll suffer a terrible death as well.”
“It’s not too late, Lilith. Turn back.”
“You’re pathetic, Dixon.” She sent a burst of magic at him.
His skin burned. He choked. Reaching up to loosen his cloak, he gasped for air.
She increased the magic.
“Stop!” Mara cried.
Lilith turned and looked up at Mara who’d removed her hood so as to reveal her true identity.
“You! How did you get here?” Once again she flung her arm out toward Dixon, throwing yet another stream of her evil magic his way.
He dropped to his knees, then started falling forward.
“Aren’t you going to try to save him, Oathtaker?”
Mara reached back and grasped Spira.
“You can’t harm me,” Lilith sneered.
Mara’s eyes darted to Dixon, then quickly back to Lilith. She’d seen enough.
“Then I guess you won’t feel this!” With a flick of her wrist, she released her blade. It flew through the air and found its target.
“Ahhhh!” Lilith screamed. Her hands trembled as she reached for the weapon which had entered her chest full to its hilt. “Ahhhh!”
“Who’s pathetic now, Lilith?”
She sank slowly to her knees.
“You were given every chance to turn back, but you wouldn’t.”
Blood ran from Lilith’s wound. Her face turned ashen.
Mara stepped forward. “But you know what your biggest mistake was?” she asked as she advanced. “Your biggest mistake was in not taking your opportunity to kill the girls the first chance you got. It seems every wrong turn you made came about because you wanted more.” She leaned in. “Well, Lilith, I didn’t make that mistake. I took my first chance.” She paused. “Turns out it was the only one I needed,” she added as she reached out and pushed the traitor.
Lilith fell back, choking. Blood spilled from her lips. She gasped for air, but could get none. Her eyes widened. Her head dropped back and then, in a flash, she disappeared in a burst of fire.
Mara sprang back, away from the heat and flames. The moment they dissipated, she rushed to Dixon’s side.
“I’m sorry, Dixon. I should have done it sooner. I’m so sorry.” She dropped down at his side. She put his head in her lap and sent a stream of magic healing into him. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry. I thought she should have the one last chance you tried to give her. Oh, Dixon, forgive me.”
He gasped for air, then smiled weakly. “You were perfect.”
She stroked his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
He tried to sit up, but couldn’t. “Is Velia all right? Where are the girls?”
“The girls are fine. They’re with Nina and Jerrett in the hallway. Are you all right?”
“Mmmm.” He rubbed his head. “Check on Velia.” Slowly, he made his way to his knees.
Reluctantly, she went to Velia’s side. Blood trickled down the woman’s face. Mara poured a stream of magic healing into her. Fortunately Lilith had used a minimum of her evil magic on the Oathtaker, as she had needed her alive.
Velia coughed and sputtered.
“Are you all right?”
“Uhhhh . . . I’m fine.” She pulled herself up.
“Don’t move too fast.”
“No, I’m fine. She didn’t use much magic on me. Mostly, it’s just my head that hurts,” Velia said, rubbing it, “and that from hitting the pillar.”
“You sure?”
When she nodded, Mara helped her to her feet. Once done, she returned to Dixon’s side.
Standing, though unsteadily, he reached out and put his hand under Mara’s chin, cupping her face. Tenderly, he wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “Did I ever tell you how much I love your freckles?”
Her brow rose.
“Like this one here,” he said as he touched her forehead, “and this one here,” he continued as he brushed her cheek, “and this one . . . right here,” he said as he gently ran his finger over her lips.
“That’s not a freckle.”
“Well, I love it anyway.”
Hot, salty tears sprang to her eyes. How cruel it seemed that the Good One would bring Dixon, the man she’d come to love, into her life just moments too late—just moments after she’d sworn her oath. She tried to move away. “Dixon—”
“This is just too cruel . . .” He hung his head. “There has got to be an answer to this dilemma.” He pulled her into his arms.
For a moment, she sank into his embrace. Then with tears spilling freely, she broke free and looked deeply into his eyes. Yes, there was an answer, and in that moment, she knew what she must do.
“Come,” she said. “Can you walk?”
He nodded, then dropped his head and shook it. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know—I promised you. I forgot myself.”
She smiled weakly. “Don’t be sorry.” Then, looking away so that he couldn’t see her pain, she grasped his hand. “Come on, it’s over. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
The room sported marble walls, and floors, and pillars so large it would take several men to wrap their arms around any one of them. Paintings with gold gilded frames hung on the walls. A ceiling mural depicted stories from The Book of the Blood. Mara identified some of them: the Select breaking their chains of slavery; the Good One bestowing magical power to Patience, the first leader of the Select; and the Good One commissioning the first Oathtakers.
She marveled at the beauty of the artists’ renderings. She took in a deep breath, then glanced at Dixon, who winked at her.
She smiled sadly, looked away, and sighed. She would not give in to her emotions. With his help, she’d kept the girls safe thus far, but now it was time to resolve her dilemma. She loved Dixon, of that she was certain. But she couldn’t go on like this. She could no longer bear having him so near, yet so completely out of her reach. Her oath made it impossible for her to be with him, to love him, to commit to him. And so it was decided: when this was all over, she would ask him to leave her. She choked back a sob as her being was awash with the pain of a loss she had yet to experience fully.
Once again the giant oak door opened and closed. Yet another Council member had arrived. Now four sat waiting; only two had yet to arrive. Mara watched as the newest attendee sat. In spite of her heavy emotions, she had to stifle a snicker. The man’s face was round and rough and hairy. He looked like a porcupine. His wide eyes seemed to peek out betw
een his frosty, unruly eyebrows and beard. What little hair remained on his head poked out in every direction.
Skylar, Dixon said by magic. Skylar Hadwin. He’s the most renowned teacher and historian in Oosa.
He looks like a scholar.
To Skylar’s left and nearer Mara, sat a woman of advanced years, who presented herself with ageless class. She sat ramrod straight. With her hair in a bun at the crown of her head, she appeared quite tall. Lines of age criss-crossed her skin, yet it maintained a sort of luminescence, a freshness that spoke of good care. Looking at her papers, she scribbled something. The feather of her quill, obviously from some grand, exotic bird, danced.
That’s Harper Larkspur, he said.
What do you know of her?
Very little. Her expertise is the law. She replaced a woman by the name of Mabel Marcel shortly before Rowena’s death. I only met her once.
At whose suggestion did she replace Mabel? Lilith’s?
Sorry, no idea.
Mara went back to her review of the Council members. To Harper’s left, and nearest Mara on one side of the table, sat another woman, this one of fewer years. Likely in her forth decade or so, her dark hair, with one streak of white at her temple, shone. Her harsh gaze glanced about. Her jaw was set.
And she is?
Mildred Crane.
One of Lilith’s supporters?
When no answer came, Mara glanced at Dixon. He smirked.
Not one of Lilith’s supporters?
Mildred is as bendable as a blade of grass. She tries to portray strength, but in fact she’s quite mild. She supports whoever is in charge.
What’s her specialty?
Health and healing.
Mara continued her survey. Across the table from Mildred sat a man whose demeanor exuded power. His gray hair sparkled in the light. His features looked as though someone had chiseled them from stone, but also as though the sculptor had been called away too soon, leaving rough patches in his work. The man’s dark eyes bore into whatever they settled on.
Piers Hamilton.
What of him?
Business. Economics.
Hmmm.
Some have said he and Lilith were ‘romantically’ involved—but then, with whom wasn’t Lilith rumored to have been involved? He was the most vocal dissenter of Rowena’s causes, verbalizing his opposition to whatever measures she suggested.
Because he genuinely disagreed? Or because he’s confrontational by nature?
Dixon snickered. The Counsel members all looked his way. He brought his grin under control. I guess we’ll find out.
The great oak door opened again. In scurried a frazzled looking man. His eyes darted about. He headed toward the nearest empty seat, across the table from Harper and to Piers’s left. He caught the eye of each of the other members before taking his seat.
Eben, Dixon said. Eben Taft.
What should I know of him?
He’s a scientist. He’s frayed at the edges, but he’s a rock.
Is that good or bad?
Dixon smiled. It’s good. He didn’t like Lilith. He thought she was too power hungry. He regularly cautioned Rowena not to give her sister any leeway. He got that right, huh?
One more time, the great oak door opened and closed. Mara glanced up. The last Council member to arrive was a woman who appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Her face was round—some might say cherubic. Her light blue eyes danced, as might those of a child full of mischief. Her cheeks were rosy. Her short curly hair glistened under the lights as she seemed to bounce forward to claim the last remaining chair. She sat at Eben’s left.
Mara’s brow furrowed. Her eyes darted toward Dixon.
Don’t be angry, he said.
Angry! Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me?
I couldn’t.
Couldn’t!
He looked down.
But it’s—it’s Lucy!
He looked back up. I couldn’t.
Why? Because Rowena ordered you not to? What? She directs you from the grave? Mara glanced at Lucy who smiled in response. She didn’t acknowledge the greeting. She looked back to Dixon and glared. You should have told me. I might have called this meeting long ago.
You had to do this your own way. Besides, I thought you were right not to expose the girls when we couldn’t be sure what Lilith might do.
But why didn’t you tell me?
I couldn’t. Mara, only those who meet with the Council know who the members are.
That makes no sense.
It makes perfect sense and you know it. The rules are set up so that people cannot unfairly direct the members’ attention to any cause. They keep their identity secret. If one was found out, he or she would be removed from the Council immediately. So they tell no one.
Are you telling me that if someone meets with the Council and discovers who the members are, that the information remains secret? That’s crazy. People talk all the time.
Yes, but most people who meet the Council never see their faces.
Mara set her jaw. And I’m the exception?
Yes.
Why?
Because you called this meeting to claim your rightful place as the Council’s leader. It’s like I told you before—if what you said turned out to be false, the punishment would be death. You’d never have an opportunity to disclose the identity of any of the members to anyone else.
And how is it that you know who they are?
As Oathtaker to Rowena, I attended all of the Council meetings with her.
Mara huffed. And what of their advisors? Like Edmond?
They never meet face to face. That is, the Council sees the faces of the advisors, but not the other way around. The Council needs to be able to read the advisors’ expressions and body language. In that way they can best ascertain the veracity of what the advisors tell them and can judge the power of their convictions. But the advisors do not know the identity of the Council members. It’s not intended that they should read the members’ faces, fashion their arguments, or create facts according to what they think someone may want to hear.
See there? They use that room there, Dixon continued as he nodded toward the back of the room, so this is made possible. You see the window there?
Yes.
From the other side, it’s a mirror. We’ll present one witness at a time. The Council will see them, but the witnesses won’t see the Council.
Mara turned back to find that all of the Council members looked her way. The smile on Lucy’s face seemed pasted on.
Relax, Mara, it had to be this way. Lucy’s on your side. And you can prove Reigna and Eden are what you say they are. For now, that’s all that matters.
I can’t believe you kept this from me. All this time!
I told you. An oath bound me. I could not.
She shook her head, then slowly exhaled, as the Council members continued to stare at her.
Piers took in a deep breath and leaned forward. “Very well then,” he said, “let’s get started.”
“Has the witness been instructed as to the penalty for telling falsehoods to this body?” asked Harper Larkspur, her legal mind ever at work.
“She has,” Dixon said.
“And she was informed prior to being directed here?”
“She was.”
“And she was given the option to have the ear of this Council in a closed meeting? Without benefit of attendance before us?”
“She was.”
“And I understand,” Harper said as she glanced down at her paperwork, “that she’s been sworn in. Is that right?”
“That is correct.”
“Kindly state your understanding of these legalities,” Lucy said, directing her comments to Mara.
Mara stood tall. “I understand that if I give false witness about my own identity or regarding a member of the Select, if my facts and accusations are not truthful, the penalty would be death.”
“Very well.”
&n
bsp; The other Council members all nodded. They wore grave expressions.
“Perhaps you’d introduce yourself,” Piers said. “This is, after all, a highly unusual request—one I cannot say I support. You put us all in a very precarious position with your request and, I don’t mind saying, I do not like it.” He paused for effect. “Nevertheless, as you know the consequences—”
“I am Mara, rightful head of this Council by virtue of my oath taken for Rowena Vala’s last born daughters, and therefore their regent,” she interrupted.
Piers frowned. “I am not accustomed to being interrupted, young lady.”
She smiled at him. “Pardon me, Mr.—”
“Hamilton,” he filled in.
“Yes, of course, Mr. Hamilton.” She glanced at the other members, all of whom, with the exception of Lucy, looked most serious. “I am Mara Richmond.”
“And you have called us here because?” he asked, looking down his nose at her.
“I’ve called you here to introduce you to Rowena’s daughters, to whom I am Oathtaker.”
“I hear you refer to the first of them as the seventh seventh and the other as ‘she who is but is not,’ of prophetic fame,” said Skylar.
“That’s correct.”
He smiled at her. “Tell us more.” He unapologetically displayed his curious scholarly interests.
As Piers sighed, Mara pulled out her chair. “May I?” she asked. Hearing no objection, she sat. She placed her arms on the table before her. “I was called to Rowena’s side as she was giving birth to the twins. I took my oath then and there. Rowena released her power with her dying breath.”
“And you received a confirmation?” Skylar asked.
“I did.”
“And their names are?” Mildred asked.
“Stop!” Piers ordered.
“Piers, get off your high horse,” Lucy said.
His eyes flashed her way.
A stifled snicker sounded out. From whom it came, Mara could not tell. For her part, she maintained a stoic expression.
“I just want to be certain we’re not misled,” he said. “After all, this woman,” he pointed, “is responsible for Lilith’s death. It’s unheard of for an Oathtaker to take the life of one of the Select.”
Oathtaker Page 58