“All children of light, I love as if they were of my flesh. And the goddess has entrusted me to protect them all. This is why Liane’s gift shouldn’t be hidden. You did not stand in the way when Mathias chose to walk into darkness. Why would you keep Liane from her destiny?” the Avatheos asked.
“You manipulated him in the same way you manipulated me! He never should have gone just as I shouldn’t have made that deal…”
“And lost your kingdom to darkness. We all must make sacrifices.”
“You can’t have her; I won’t let her become your sacrificial lamb.”
Her stomach squirmed, and she wished she had the strength to speak out, to ask questions, but it felt as if her lips were glued closed.
“That is for her to decide, isn’t it?”
A tense silence followed, and neither spoke for a long moment as a cold stone settled in her stomach. What did Mother mean by sacrifice? What hadn’t they told her all this time?
“Fear not, child of light, the goddess will protect her chosen. As she has protected and guided you. For now, let her rest. She has a long road ahead of her.”
They left the room, and Liane’s questions went unanswered. For a long time, she lay with her eyes closed, listening and hoping they’d come back. A thousand questions rattled around in her mind. Hidden power and secrets she could only imagine. But none of that mattered right now. While she’d been lying unconscious in bed, Heinrich might be making his move.
Sitting up took more out of her than she anticipated, and her head swam as she kicked her legs out over the side of the bed. She tried to stand up and quickly fell back down onto the bed a second later. Then the door opened, and a veiled priest walked in carrying a tray of something aromatic. If she couldn’t stop him herself, she had to warn someone.
“Prince Consort Heinrich—” she croaked, but couldn’t form words as her throat burned.
“The Avatheos ordered you to drink this,” they said in a gravelly voice, offering her the cup, ignoring her statement.
Liane took it on impulse.
“I need to warn you someone is going to steal the Golden Blade. Tell the Avatheos and the others before it’s too late.”
“You need to drink,” they said in reply.
Liane frowned.
“Didn’t you hear me?” It took too much effort to argue, and her head pounded.
“Drink.” His voice was deep and scratchy, not the usual melodic and soothing voice of a priest.
It seemed strange, but she drank the tonic; maybe then he’d listen. As soon as it touched her lips, she smelled something vaguely familiar though she couldn’t quite place the odor. As the priest waited for her drink, she chugged it down in one gulp.
“Now, will you listen to me…” Her words slurred, and the room swam around her.
Her thoughts grew sluggish, and she tried to cry out but couldn’t find the words. As she reached for something, anything, she tilted over, back onto the hard mattress. The priest came closer, and as he stood over her, she caught a glimpse of his scarred face beneath the hood.That wasn’t a priest at all, she thought before darkness took her.
29
On the road, Erich hardly slept because it left him vulnerable. Try and rest in the wrong place, and he’d wake up with a highwayman’s knife at his throat. As he left Artria behind, he walked all night, the buzzing fear of his near capture and the impending full moon driving him to put as much distance between him and the city as possible. But as it so often did, exhaustion forced him to stop and rest just before sunrise. What little sleep he got was fitful, thanks to the restless forest.
Wind whistled through the trees, like a whisper. “Erich…” it called.
His eyes flew open, and he stared at the dawn-lit forest. All was suddenly still. The rustling had stopped, and a prickle of magic caressed his skin. It raised the hairs on his arm and the back of his neck.
“Erich.” The voice was closer now, as if someone had whispered it in his ear.
He made a slow turn as he took in his surroundings, then a white blur darted past the corner of his eye, and he pivoted toward it, dagger held out in front of him. Not that it would make a difference against the powerful magic being he sensed.
The dual-colored stag pawed at the ground, nostrils flaring. A normal stag could be territorial, especially in the rutting season, but it was far past then, and besides, this wasn’t a normal stag.
“Would you turn your back on your vows?” it spoke in his mind.
A shudder rippled through him.
