“Maraak,” chanted an akadim.
I stood from the bed enraged, my pulse pounding too quickly. I grew more used to them every day. I had to. But each morning was a fresh shock, like it had been during my captivity. It didn’t matter that they considered me their queen, that Aemon had sworn they wouldn’t hurt me. They were hateful, horrible, soulless things.
I took a step forward. “Get out. All of you. Now!”
The akadim rose, bowing before me. “Maraaka,” each one said as they exited my room, their faces downcast. At the tail end were three demons, smaller than the rest. More mortal in appearance. Their eyes were red, their fingers clawed, their necks adorned with the silver cuffs linking them to Aemon. I could almost sense the power, the strength and violence inside them. It mixed seamlessly with their intelligence. But they were still monsters.
And even though I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. Knew they called me queen, I hadn’t expected them all to listen to me so willingly, to be so docile.
“Why? Why wouldn’t you expect that?” Parthenay asked. “MaraakMoriel has named you queen. They show their devotion daily.”
“I know plenty of queens in history who weren’t respected, nor obeyed. A title alone is not something that protects you, and certainly not against akadim.”
“It protects you,” she said, a note of jealousy in her voice. “They hunt in your name.”
I scoffed. “And did I ask them to hunt for me?”
She shrugged disinterestedly. “Maybe not. But you have the shard.”
“The shard you’re babysitting?” I asked.
You’re the one sleeping with it in your bed, she thought.You’re paranoid. You know I can’t take it from you.
Then why cast your shadow in my door,I thought.We both know you’re here to make sure I don’t leave.
She smirked, her mind suddenly quiet.
There was something else in her mind, something she was trying to hide from me.
I shook my head, trying to glean the thought from her. But I was faced with her own onyx wall, protecting her secrets.
She’d been taunting me for days. Coming in here, or thinking thoughts to me at all hours to drive me farther than Lethea. She mocked my thoughts and fears. Tried to unsettle me over my relationship with Aemon. Or King Moriel as everyone referred to him. She made my meals, and she ran my baths each night. Always with a snide remark. I thought it was jealousy at first, that Aemon was … well, not mine. But more mine than hers.
And then I wondered if I was clouding my own judgment. If my own distrust of her had made me paranoid. I associated her with my kidnapping. With her capture of Lyr and Rhyan.
But slowly, I was starting to realize that was just a distraction. She was doing her best to throw me off, to keep me from realizing what she was truly protecting.
Not me.
Not the shard.
But my ability to use it. The ability I’d been trying to tap into for days while Aemon was gone.
Her eyes narrowed, clearly reading my thoughts. She stormed out of the room.
I’d been determined to figure it out since I’d last seen him. I’d been holding the shard, trying to keep my memories of Ereshya at bay, while getting closer to the source of the crystal’s magic. I wasn’t sure what I was doing. But I knew that each day I felt more aware of its ancient magic, felt more of aspark inside me when I touched it. If Parthenay and Aemon were worried about me being able to do so, then it meant only one thing. It meant I could.
It meant I was close.
It didn’t matter if Aemon had a claim on the crystal, if it wanted to answer to him. Because I now knew, it could answer to me.
I picked it up off the bed, feeling its weight in my hands, and stared, letting my eyes go slack. The shard began to glow. Indigo light filled the room, and colored my skin until I was as blue as Mercurial. I closed my eyes.
I am Ereshya, I thought.Guardian of the Valalumir. Servant of the Council of Forty-Four. Goddess of the Orange Ray.
I opened my eyes. The crystal in my hands began to heat, brightening, and the tiredness I felt from waking was gone. I had been hungry, about to demand breakfast. But now, I was satiated without needing food. Even more light spilled between my fingers, casting a vibrant sea of color against the stone walls. Lifting my arm, I held up the shard with only one hand, like a scepter. Like I truly was queen. It was large and heavy, and I’d always needed two hands to hold it. Now one was all it took. I felt stronger. Powerful.
Like a Goddess.
