“When you say ‘we’…” Jemin considered what his father had taught him: a small collective is strong when aligned under the right vision, whereas a thousand individuals are weak if they don’t know what they are fighting for. “How many are left?”
“Just the core.” Cardrick ran his fingers over his beard, smoothing it, and his eyes became distant. “Too many died.”
Jemin knew that there had been blood during that brief window of Rhia’s illness, but not how many had died exactly. The queen’s health and therefore her sovereignty was a well-protected secret. No-one outside the closest circle of advisors knew about it—at least that had been the official statement Scott had given. And Jemin only knew about that because he had overheard him and Feris. Most people didn’t even know Princess Laura had returned or where she had disappeared to afterwards. To the public, Rhia—eternally-young Rhia—was the unquestioned ruler of Allinan. Under her reign, peace and prosperity continued to grow.
His father had never said a word about his opinion on the queen.
They looked at each other from across the table, and Cardrick’s eyes reflected in layers of blue and gold once more.
“How long have you been like this?” Jemin asked without preparing Cardrick for the change of topic.
“You mean, a revolutionary—” he winked, “—or a Yutu?”
“Yutu.”
“That’s probably the easiest question you could ask.” He sat back in his chair, running his fingers over his beard, as if preparing for a long story. “It was one of the hottest Augusts in years. I was called in by order of the queen.” He chuckled to himself, wrinkles pulling into dark lines full of dirt. “Seventy-two and still naive like a little boy. I was honored she had asked to see me in person. Even with my dislike for the current regent, nothing could have prepared me for what she is capable of.”
There was fear in Cardrick’s voice, and coming from a seasoned diplomat, it meant more than from anyone else.
“When I got to her chambers, the usual curtain wasn’t there. The queen looked the exact same as she does in the pictures, not the way you and I have seen her. It was almost like a warlock illusion.”
“How do you know it wasn’t?” Jemin had seen all kinds of tricks. Corey had practiced on him, showing him butterflies and fighting heroes and other things he preferred not thinking about so he wouldn’t lose focus.
“You know as well as I do that details make reality.”
Jemin understood. It had been part of his basic training to distinguish between illusion and reality.
“So how did it happen?” he asked instead. “Did a Yutu bite you?” He thought of the legends of the other world. Werewolves. They didn’t have such things in Allinan—just Yutu, no shifters.
“Funny enough, Yutu-blood was involved.” Cardrick didn’t sound amused. “When I met the queen, Feris was with her. They explained that they needed my help—the help of a loyal Allinan noble.” He made a sound that reminded Jemin of a dying burst of laughter. “They had no idea which side I was on… or so I thought.”
He leaned across the table as if he was going to share a secret with Jemin.
“They put me in the dungeon and chained me up before they injected me with a substance I now know to be part Yutu-blood. I don’t know about what else was in there, but it had to be rare, or they wouldn’t have said they didn’t have any more resources.”
Jemin cringed. For the third time today, he was surprised by what people he thought he knew were capable of. “Feris was in on it,” he repeated, just to make sure he had all the details right.
“He led the operation.” Cardrick said coldly. “He injected me, watched me turn, and left me in the dungeon to die.”
When a moment ago, Jemin had only Maray to worry about, now he felt that Corey was in danger, too.
“I would like to see his face when he figures out I am not dead.”
“How did you get away?”
“Yutu are incredibly strong. You have no idea—”
“I’ve killed a couple,” Jemin deferred.
Cardrick laughed—out of real amusement this time. “I know you have. Even the strongest beast is not immortal. But you have never seen a Yutu rip iron chains out of a dungeon wall.”
Maray
It took three long days to get used to the dagger’s effect. Every time they started training, Maray felt like her body sided with the weapon, and she had to fight until she could stop delivering blow after blow at whatever it was her father held in front of her.
This time, for the first time, the weapon listened to what she wanted and didn’t just blindly strike.
They were fighting in the living room, Maray, dagger in hand, and Gerwin with his short sword. By now, she was used to the noise of metal on metal and the force that translated into her shoulder when blade met blade. She blinked as a drop of sweat ran into her eye and wiped it away with her free hand.
“I think this is enough for today,” Gerwin suggested. “We’ve been practicing nonstop for the past three days.
Maray agreed and laid the dagger down without a struggle.
“Except for eating and sleeping,” she noted and shrugged out of her sweater. She could use some sleep. Fighting the dagger’s will took more strength than it did to fight with a normal weapon. They had tried. Her father had promised her it would be easier once they were back in Allinan. Her magic blood would help her tame the dagger.
“This was much better,” he complimented as he walked to the kitchen and pulled two glasses from the cream colored cupboard and held them under the tap.
Maray followed him and longingly watched as the glasses filled up.
“Better,” a familiar voice agreed. “Not optimal but much better.”
Maray’s stomach squirmed, and she jerked around, regretting that she’d left the weapon in the living room, and looked right into Jemin’s bright blue eyes. There was relief playing behind the layer of composure in his features, and something more than that, which she didn’t allow herself to think.
Gerwin was at her side in an instant, and interrupted whatever flicker of emotion had surfaced in both of them, short sword in hand, and pointed the blade at Jemin. For a moment, they looked at each other, the sound of the running water the only noise in the room.
“What are you doing here?” The words broke out of Maray. Surprise mixed with a strange sense of relief and, as she noticed the coldness in her father’s eyes, fear.
“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing here’?” Jemin said in the same cold tone he had used the first time they’d met. “The question is more, what are you doing here?” The only difference between then and now was that his features gave away that the relief was mutual. Something rejoiced in Maray for no obvious reason.
“I have brought my daughter home to protect her.” Gerwin positioned himself between the two of them.
“That’s right.” Jemin folded his arms across his chest, seeming not at all impressed with Gerwin’s fatherly protector’s instinct. “I remember you, Ambassador.”
“Jemin Boyd.” Gerwin lowered his weapon. “You saved my life.”
“I’d like to think of myself as that kind of hero.” Jemin chuckled. “But the truth is I was just rash and stumbled into a conversation that wasn’t meant for my ears.”
“And saved my life,” Gerwin repeated.
“You didn’t tell me you had a daughter,” Jemin said and glanced at Maray with that conflicted expression she had seen before at Corey’s.
“I don’t think our brief encounter allowed for much conversation,” Gerwin reminded, and despite the gratitude in his voice, there was rage in it, too.
Maray didn’t turn her head to check. Her eyes were glued to the straight lines of Jemin’s face. In her memory, his eyes hadn’t been half as blue and his smile not half as breathtaking as it was now that he smiled at her. It wasn’t the light-hearted smile Heck had, but it was a smile that suited the rest of his expression.
“Why, again, did
you take my daughter to Allinan? You could have returned her home after you saved her from the Yutu.”
“I could have.” Jemin escaped Maray’s gaze with which she so desperately wanted to lock him to hers. “But in case you haven’t noticed, your daughter looks like the queen.”
Maray almost laughed out loud. She knew it was everything but funny. This was about her family, her royal bloodline, and her dangerous grandmother, Rhia, who happened to be the queen regent of a different dimension. This was about her provenance, and yet it seemed like a bad joke.
“Call it sense of self-preservation.” Jemin walked past them to the kitchen, turned off the water, and leaned against the grey granite-counter, knocking on it with his knuckles. “Nice.” He arched his eyebrows higher in an appreciative look.
Maray wished he would look at her with half as much enthusiasm as he did at the cold stone surface.
“You could preserve yourself without dragging me through the nexus to a world where people want me dead.” Maray laid one hand on her hip, irritated as the first time she had met Jemin. Something about the way he owned it was deeply upsetting. There was more going on behind those bright blue eyes, and she was determined to find out what it was that made it so difficult for him to loosen up.
“It’s not just Allinan where they are hunting you.”
“What are you saying?” Gerwin asked, not giving Maray a chance to make a snide comment. “No one but Langley knows about her.”
“The Yutu was looking for her. It was the third this month to breach the borders. Langley was followed by Unterly that night. Unterly knew. And if Unterly knows—”
“That means Rhia knows,” Gerwin finished for him.
Maray noticed how both men tensed.
“But that’s not all.” Jemin pushed away from the counter and started walking. At first, Maray thought he was going back to the living room where he had come from. Then, to her surprise, he stopped right in front of her and grabbed her hand.
An electric current ran through her as his fingers tightened around hers, pulling her hand toward him.
“This,” he said as he pointed at the ring on her finger, “is a problem.”
Maray couldn’t see the problem. Jemin’s touch was warm and let her almost forget that she even had a ring on her finger. Everything seemed surprisingly perfect for a short moment. Then, his hand roughly tugged on hers.
“Maray Cornay,” he said, his tone as emotionless as ever. “Next in line for the throne of Allinan. Coming from the same blood as Queen Rhia.”
Her true last name spoken from his mouth slapped her awake. With a pull so fast she didn’t know it was possible, her hand was out of Jemin’s, leaving her skin tingling oddly where his fingers had been a second ago. Gerwin relaxed beside them.
“What has Rhia done that’s so horrible?” she asked in a voice she wasn’t used to. It was too uncontrolled, too upset. She knew that she had threatened Jemin, that she had wanted to exile Laura, that everyone was trying to keep her from ever meeting her.
Jemin stepped back, giving Maray enough space to breathe, but remained too close to feel normal for the stranger he was.
“To begin with, the queen… Rhia kidnapped Ambassador Langley and turned him into a Yutu.” He looked almost embarrassed as he was speaking the words, as if he wasn’t thinking they were going to believe them.
“That’s impossible,” Gerwin contended, and Jemin chuckled darkly.
“That was my first reaction, too. But believe me; I have seen him turn. He is a shifter—the only one, according to him—and the queen turned him with Feris’ help.”
Jemin nodded, and there was emotion in his eyes, a flicker of rage.
“Feris?” Maray recognized the name from Corey’s. “Why would he do that?”
“He found a way to make the queen immortal, and Cardrick Langley found out about it.”
Maray ground her teeth at his words. She wasn’t certain which piece of information to process first—that her grandmother was immortal, or that she was an immortal evil.
“A cruel experiment as punishment for his knowledge.” Jemin glanced at her, measuring her expression for a moment, and as he did, absolute silence settled in the room.
Impossible had left Maray’s vocabulary the moment she had learned about the second world, and yet it was what was burning on the tip of her tongue. Gerwin beat her to it.
“Impossible,” he breathed, paling as he measured Jemin’s face, probably attempting to figure out whether he could truly trust the Allinan soldier.
“Langley told me the whole story.” Jemin turned to Gerwin, some softness in his serious features. “How he helped you and Laura start a new life, how he came to you on the queen’s orders to bring Princess Laura back to help in a crisis. And about the deal you made with him to keep Maray a secret if you delivered her to Allinan when she came of age—to Princess Laura—even though he would have preferred it had been to him directly.”
Only Langley could have told him that. She saw it in her father’s eyes: he believed Jemin.
“Langley has been in hiding for months. The queen and Feris think he is dead—they left him to die after they turned him.” His features twisted in an unexpected display of emotion.
Maray’s stomach tightened. She had heard many things about her grandmother, but something like this… Who could she trust? Jemin? Her father? At least they were here now, helping her understand, preparing her to fight.
“And you are sure that Rhia is immortal?” She asked, unable to wrap her head around the concept of immortality.
Jemin nodded and folded his arms across his chest as if he needed protecting from her question. “That’s why they needed Princess Laura five years ago. And that’s why they are hunting for Maray. They need their blood to keep Rhia alive.”
Gerwin’s fists clenched beside Maray. “Rhia was sick—”
“And Princess Laura’s blood, paired with Feris’ magic, cured her. Langley told me how he had found out, how he had overheard a conversation between Feris and Unterly years ago…”
“And my blood is from the same line,” Maray comprehended and finally acknowledged that Jemin was telling the truth. She checked with a glance at his face if she was following the right track and caught him eyeing her with an expression that made her stomach drop.
“Additionally, you have magic.” Caught, Jemin frowned and looked away as if he was upset with her, and something in her chest tightened. “Magic makes the effect stronger. While Princess Laura’s blood makes her immortal, your blood—” he gazed into her eyes, searching for something as he paused, but Maray couldn’t react since she was processing, “—will increase her powers. It will make her unbeatable. Unstoppable.”
Maray couldn’t look away. She was hoping to find an anchor somewhere in Jemin’s gaze that would save her. Instead, he blinked and averted his eyes.
“Rhia has one goal: to gather demonic forces to reopen the borders between dimensions and rule over both worlds with her darkness.”
“How did you find us?” Maray had gained her composure again.
They were sitting at the dining table after a long discussion about what they should do next. Langley had a clear idea, but none of them knew if they liked it.
Maray’s eyes lingered on Jemin’s slender hands. His long fingers, dusty from sleeve to fingernail, were playing with the purple crystal from the blood test Corey had performed.
“I got this from Corey’s to track you.” He glanced up at her, looking as if he was about to say something entirely different. His hair had come out of the small ponytail she’d seen on him before and was hanging loosely into his face. He didn’t look away this time but scrutinized her face, an absent expression decorating his elegant features. Even with the dirty shirt and pants and his rogue hair, his beauty shone through.
Maray felt the impulse to let herself be self-conscious about her sweaty shirt and her tangled hair but reminded herself that this wasn’t about what he saw when he looked at h
er but about bringing down and evil monarch—even if she was her grandmother.
Gerwin shifted in his chair. “I don’t like this,” he commented on his own thought process. “Me going back alone, leaving the two of you unprotected…”
“We are not unprotected.” Maray nodded at the dagger she had picked up from the living room table. Her knife was in her belt.
“I’ll protect her, Ambassador Johnson.” Jemin had snapped into that strangely polite tone with her father sometime during their long conversation. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it seemed as if he was somehow trying to please her father. Yet, every time the discussion circled into the next round, it seemed to get more difficult for him.
“Not that I don’t trust you, but you have kidnapped my daughter before,” Gerwin reminded him, and the corners of Jemin’s mouth twitched downward.
“Not this time,” Jemin objected. “I’ll wait as planned, but I’ll come alone.”
Gerwin bit his lip in a nervous gesture Maray had never seen on him.
The original plan had been a highly risky one. Gerwin was supposed to travel ahead and infiltrate court to find out the whereabouts of Rhia and meet with Langley in secret; while Maray and Jemin were to stay exactly where they were for at least twenty-four hours before they followed him to Allinan to meet with Heck and to pretend to deliver Maray to Scott so they wouldn’t be suspected. Jemin and Heck, Maray had learned, had gotten the assignment of finding the person who looked like the queen, who had been sighted in the palace gardens, and return her into his custody. By the time they’d get there, Langley and Gerwin would have activated enough of the revolutionaries to perform a flash attack on the palace. They needed just enough people to get to the queen’s private chambers, and Jemin and Heck would help the fighters get into the palace.
But now, both her father and Jemin were considering a change of plans that would benefit her safety.
“Langley won’t be happy… but we also can’t leave her here. It’s too dangerous. If the Yutu found her and you found her, anyone can find her.”
Two Worlds of Provenance Page 12