“How could Hadrian do all of that?” Asher finally asks. “Mistreat his wife? Exploit his city for taxes to fund his lavish lifestyle? Let me see the note again.”
Caius passes the note through the bars close to Asher’s side.
“Wait. Doesn’t this mean Lockmire is Ilvara’s?” Asher asks after a few long moments.
“Yes, I suppose.”
Asher drops his voice lower. “But if that guard was speaking truth, and Ilvara does decide to marry Lord Krassis, Lockmire will be his. Ardellon law prohibits any married woman from controlling a municipality if her husband is still living. And if he dies, the cities fall to his heirs, or whoever he’s laid out in his own will. Unless he writes Ilvara in and Tarreth approves, Lockmire cannot be hers.”
Caius eyes the guard at the door of the room as he whispers, “Then we will convince him to write her in before we kill him.”
The dungeon door flies open at that moment. A woman charges in. Caius stares. For a second, his heart flops painfully. But it isn’t Evelyn. It’s a woman who looks exactly like her, only older and without scars. Her hair is gold.
Like the tips of flames…
She rushes toward the door guard.
“Timothy, Krassis has cast me out,” she says to him. “Ilvara knows about my daughter. She made me look like a fool in front of everyone. You must help me. Get me stationed in Lockmire or something.”
The guard whispers back, “What can I do, Goldie? It’s all under Gilbert’s thumb.”
“Evelyn,” Caius says suddenly. “That’s your daughter?”
Both of them turn. The woman called Goldie slowly walks toward Caius’ cell.
“You two,” she says. “You’re the general and the trainer?” She leans forward to peer at them. Her resemblance to Evelyn is uncanny. “Let me guess—the polished one with the weak shoulders and sharp jawline is General Asher, and the scarred brute with empty eyes is Trainer Caius.”
“Don’t you remember me?” Caius asks in a low voice.
She tilts her head, then nods. “Ah yes. The one stupid bandit who wasn’t told that ours was not supposed to burn.”
“You’re Evelyn’s mother?” Asher asks.
She straightens. “How do you know her?”
“She was in my army,” Asher says. “But you must know that. I know the news of a woman joining Lockmire’s army made it here.”
“I didn’t know it was her.”
Asher scoffs. “She’s always been described as the Girl with Golden Hair. How many girls like that are there, do you think?”
Caius stands. “Did she have any idea you were alive?”
“No.”
Asher’s next words bite like acid. “Did you have any idea that she died?”
Goldie’s lowered brows rise. Her lips part. “What?”
“I suppose that news hasn’t travelled so fast,” Caius says under his breath.
“When? How?”
“Almost a week ago, in the forest.”
She blinks a few times, then her eyebrows lower again. “That doesn’t touch me here. I have work to do.”
“And it sounds like Lord Krassis doesn’t want you working here anymore. News of your horrific mothering skills have not impressed him, I imagine.” There is a spark of humour in Asher’s voice, but no sounds of a smile.
“Everything I did, I did to protect my children,” she says.
“What did you do?” Caius asks her. “You’re working with bandits. You must have known she’d been captured by them.”
“And it was my service that kept Evelyn and Jacklyn alive in the first place.” Goldie crosses her arms defensively.
“From what Evelyn told me,” Caius says, “Jacklyn was raped to death. Evelyn was tortured mercilessly.”
“But she stayed alive, didn’t she?”
“Forget the bandits who held Evelyn captive,” Asher says, voice heavy with disgust. “You are the true monster.”
Goldie lets out her breath in a huff. The tears in her eyes break her tough façade. She steps back. “Timothy, what does Krassis want us to do with these prisoners?”
“He wanted to speak with them separately sometime on the morrow. I think he wishes to enslave them to the cause.”
“Enslave them?” Goldie whips back around to Asher and Caius. “These two should be executed. They are enemies, after all.”
“That’s not for us to decide. You know that.”
She turns to the guard. “What am I going to do? Now everyone wants me killed.”
“Whatever you try to run from,” Caius says, “always catches up to you.”
Goldie casts an icy glare at Caius before scurrying from the dungeon.
Caius relaxes only once she’s left. If Evelyn is alive, she hopes she never meets that horrible creature.
Chapter 24
Light
Priscilla’s hand sweats as she grips the basket tightly. Alesia walks slowly next to her, gazing around at the city, commenting on its beauty. Priscilla spots a sign outside one of the clothing shops that reads, “Seamstress wanted.”
She turns to Alesia. “Stay here. I’ll just be a moment.”
“Why can’t I come inside?”
Truthfully, Priscilla knows the proprietor, and he’s sure to be far too pleased at the news of the Sanctuary’s trouble. Alesia does not need to hear that.
“It won’t take long, I promise. Just wait here,” Priscilla says, and leaves her.
Inside, the elf straightens from speaking to a customer at the counter. “Well well well,” he says, catching Priscilla’s eye, “Priscilla Naveen, it is lovely to see you.” His voice drips with self-righteous pleasure.
“Hello Agis,” Priscilla says.
The customer passes her with a stack of brown fabric, leaving Agis and Priscilla alone.
Priscilla breaks the silence. “I assume you’ve heard.”
Agis rounds the corner of the counter, yellow eyes usually squinted now round with fascination. “How could I not? Despite the publication, six people have come in with different gossip about it. Some say she dug herself out of her own grave; others claim you dragged her out yourself and spoke life into her.”
Priscilla tilts her head. “What?”
“The resurrection! Everyone is talking about it.”
“The…”
“Is it true she was dead for a whole week? Did the Shrine really turn them away because they were too poor?”
“Slow down, Agis. I’m here to be a seamstress.”
This stops him. He peers quizzically down at her before clapping his hands. “Ah yes, the sign. Well, I’m afraid I’ve already filled the position. Forgot to take the sign in with all the excitement.”
Priscilla nods uncertainly. “All right. I’ll be going then.”
“Wait, could you visit my grandmother? She’s bound to die any day, and I’d really like her around to see my newborn son. She may think he’s so precious that she’ll forgive the fact that I became a tailor, not a mage like she wanted.”
“You have a newborn son?”
Agis laughs. “No, but the girl I fancy said she would marry me. It won’t be long for children to come around.”
Priscilla reaches for the door. “Good day, Agis.”
Outside, she leans against the doorpost, head spinning. The sky is cast over with clouds, and the air is hot against her face. She hopes a storm will break the heat soon. After a moment of arranging her thoughts, she adjusts the basket in her hand. It takes a few moments for her to realize that she is alone outside the door.
She stops. Turns. People mill about, the usual crowds at this time in the morning. But not one of them is that young girl with raven hair.
“Alesia?” Priscilla calls. “Alesia!”
She spins in the crowd, calling her name, checking behind buildings, racing up and down the street. Her mind blurs with worry. Why did I leave her alone? I was responsible for her, and I left her by herself in a city she doesn’t know. She grew up in the forest
like a doe. She must be terrified here. What have I done?
At the height of her worry, Priscilla spots her, and the tight knot of worry relaxes. Alesia leans over the seat of the fountain, splashing her hands in the water, while a boy her age sits nearby, talking to her.
Priscilla hurries over. “Alesia, there you are.”
She glances up. “Oh, hi Priscilla.”
“Why didn’t you stay by the shop?”
“Alexander wanted to show me the fountain.” Alesia sits up.
The boy shifts to his feet, avoiding Priscilla’s eyes.
“You must be Alexander,” Priscilla says.
“No madam. I’m Benjamin.”
Alesia points across the square. “Alexander said he was going to fetch me some strawberries.”
“And who is this?” Priscilla indicates to Benjamin.
“Benjamin. He just got here.”
Priscilla nods once. “All right. We have places to be. Farewell, Benjamin.”
The boy scurries off without a word.
Alesia rises. “But what about the strawberries?”
Priscilla wraps an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “I’ll buy you some on our way back.”
“All right.”
“You must be more careful. The city is full of dangerous people.”
“You sound like Mama. Those boys seemed fine.”
“Yes, but they could be pretending.”
“Why?”
“To get something from you.”
“What?”
Priscilla eyes the girl at her side, far too pretty for a place like this. And with her unique eyes and innocent heart, more boys are sure to flock her. But she knows nothing about this world. She could so easily be hurt, just like Priscilla was.
Priscilla sits with her on a bench, laying a hand over Alesia’s.
“I know you don’t know me well,” Priscilla says, “but trust me when I say that some men are very cruel, and will do anything to get what they want, even if it means hurting you.”
“I know.”
“But you don’t. You’ve lived in the forest with your mother all your life.”
“Yes, but Mama always talked about Papa, who deserted us. It was his fault we were out there in the first place. Trust me, my lady, I have had plenty of warnings about men.”
Priscilla thinks of Caius. It’s hard piecing it all together. “So, your papa left you as a baby?”
“No; it was before Mama knew she was pregnant. She loved him, you know. She cried and cried all the time, saying she missed him, hoping he’d return. Then, sometimes she was angry at him. I could never really tell if he was a demon or a god.”
Priscilla sighs. At times, she’d hated Kreston. She’d been filled with such fury at him, at the woman he loved in her stead. But then, in the deep night, she woke to pangs of longing. Wishing he were there to talk to. To love.
“I had a similar thing happen to me,” Priscilla says quietly. “A man I loved left me because he fell in love with another woman.”
“Oh. No, Papa left because his mother died, and he was very upset. He went to be a bandit.”
“Oh my. A bandit?”
“Yes, but he ended up in Lockmire somehow. That’s where he met Evelyn and fell in love with her. It was years later. He said he never even knew about me. See, yours is much worse, but Mama got so angry at him. I don’t know why she can’t be calm like you.”
Priscilla smirks. “I’m not always calm. We all have bad days.”
“Have you ever killed someone because of them?”
Priscilla’s smile drops. “No.”
Alesia nods and glances away. “Right.”
“Are you all right? I can’t imagine how you must feel about all this. About your mother…”
“They surely won’t kill her. They can’t. It was an accident. She did not intend to kill Evelyn.” Alesia smiles bravely. “I’m scared for her, but I’m sure things will turn out right.”
“But she did intend to kill someone. She told me herself. And she did. She killed Evelyn.”
Alesia clenches her hands and looks away again. “I know it’s bad. But Evelyn is alive now. They can’t hurt Mama if Evelyn is no longer dead. We can say it was an injury, but not fatal.”
“Everyone knows she was dead. It’s all over the city.”
Alesia drops her eyes. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry, my dear.”
A tear drips onto Alesia’s hands. Her expression crumples. “It isn’t fair.”
Priscilla draws her into her arms. She hushes her crying softly. “I’m so sorry you have to endure this.”
Alesia pulls away enough to look at Priscilla’s face. Hers is damp with tears. “I-I heard you pray last night. You said that Herus does all things well. How is this going to turn out g—good?”
Priscilla remembers herself asking the same question after Kreston left. She smiles sadly. “I don’t know, but in time, you will see. Sometimes we don’t understand why things happen, and we just have to trust that Herus has everything in control.”
“Maybe you can resurrect her,” she says, leaning against Priscilla’s chest again.
Priscilla brushes hair from her face. “I think some things were only meant to happen once.”
“Why is Evelyn so special? Why is she allowed to be resurrected but Mama is not?”
“Herus loves everyone equally.”
“He has a funny way of showing it.”
Priscilla bites down on her lip, searching her mind for something encouraging to say. But nothing comes. What is there to say at a time like this?
After composing themselves, Priscilla rises, pulling Alesia to her feet with her.
“Ready?” Priscilla asks her.
With one final swipe under her eyes, Alesia nods. Priscilla admires her courage.
The captain is not present when they arrive at the tower twenty minutes later. A guard explains he is meeting with the chancellor. He leads them down into the lower level of the dungeon. They are allowed only a few moments.
“Do you know,” Priscilla whispers to the guard, “when her execution day is?”
“I believe on the morrow,” says the guard. “At dawn.”
Priscilla gasps. “Already? I thought with rumours of war, the date would be postponed.”
“It was. She was supposed to be beheaded the morning after she arrived, but Captain Bertrand needed to sort the legalities. Meeves set out a new system after the war with Lockmire and Esterden started, so executions take longer now.”
Priscilla thinks of the long questioning that took place when she delivered Maven to the tower. When the captain arrived the next morning, he was sure to have a lot to go through.
Alesia is already at the bars when Priscilla walks in. She presses her mother’s hand to her own cheek. She had promised Priscilla on the way in that she would not cry, but she weeps openly now.
“Oh Mama, it isn’t fair at all.”
“Shh, my darling.” Maven gently cradles her daughter’s cheek. “Things will be all right.”
“But you’re going to die.”
“Yes, but I will be with Herus.”
Priscilla kneels with Alesia. “I know you prayed for that a few nights ago. Do you believe in him?”
“Yes, I do. Evelyn told me I had to believe in him, and I do. Even though things look grim, I know I’m not going to that awful place.”
Priscilla smiles, surprised at the profound change in her. “I’m so happy to hear that.”
“Mama, don’t worry,” Alesia says, as if ignoring the exchange, “we’ll get you out somehow. Asher is very important. He’ll get you out.”
“I know it isn’t possible,” Maven tells her. “Do not get yourself into trouble trying, all right?”
“But you can’t just die!” Alesia springs to her feet. “You can’t leave me. What am I going to do?”
Maven’s eyes glisten with tears then. “It’s all right. It’s going to be all right.”
“
No, it isn’t. You’re going to die, and I’m going to be alone.” Alesia pushes past Priscilla to the doorway.
“Alesia, please,” Maven calls. She slumps against the bars when Alesia is gone.
“I’m sorry, Maven,” Priscilla says. “I am sorry you’re here, and I am sorry your daughter will be without a mother. I swear on my life to care for her in whatever way I can, for as long as she needs.”
“Do not be sorry. I have not been the mother she deserves. I…I have made awful mistakes.”
“What mistakes?” Priscilla asks, cautiously.
Maven rolls her eyes, a sliver of her old self returning. “Well, obviously killing Evelyn was a mistake. It threw me in here, didn’t it?”
Priscilla nods. “Yes.”
“Anyway, I appreciate you caring for her. She’ll really need it…” She trails off, eyes drifting away.
Priscilla takes her hand. “It is understandable to be afraid.”
The fear really breaks through her eyes then. She grabs Priscilla’s hand in both of hers. “I am so afraid. I don’t know anything about Herus. All I know is that he raised Evelyn from the dead, and that I should believe in him. But I don’t know anything about him.”
Priscilla smiles. “I will share everything I can.”
“How do I face this? How do I face death with courage? How can I,”—her chin quivers; her eyes sweep from the door back to Priscilla— “How can I leave my child? She’s the most precious thing in this world to me.”
Priscilla takes a moment to think. “Herus sent his only child, Fillium Herus, to face a criminal’s death to atone for the sin of humanity. Being God himself, Fillium Herus sweat blood the night before his crucifixion. He knew the horrors he would face, and he even asked Herus to pass the cup from him, that he might not have to endure it. Not only would he be brutally murdered, but the sweet communion with his Father would be broken when Herus turned his back on his Son.”
“Why did he have to turn his back?”
“Hanging on the cross, Filium Herus bore every crime, every evil on his shoulders. He bore every adulterous thought and deed, every moment of hatred, every murder. The Epistles say he ‘became sin for us.’ Herus could not look at his only Son with all that upon him. When Herus turned his back, darkness fell upon Aranea in the middle of the day.”
Of Embers Page 21