Again, Sonara’s rules for the world were changing. Shaping themselves anew, for where once there were only three Shadowbloods on Dohrsar that she knew including herself, now there were four.
The second woman was perhaps more puzzling than the first.
She was small, a head shorter than Sonara, her shoulders thin beneath her dark robes. Her hair, a palest white as the northern snows, was bound into two long ropy braids that hung to her waist, woven through with ice-blue beads and bits of white that looked like bone. Her face was entirely covered by a skull fashioned into a mask, tied tight.
The Canis,Sonara noted now, a beast dreaded in the White Wastes for how its midnight howls resembled a lost child screaming out in distress. When one ventured too far into the snowy woods to save the child, the Canis attacked, and devoured only their flesh, leaving the rest of the body behind.
The girl’s mouth was barely visible behind the Canis’ jawbones, the jagged teeth still intact at the end of a long snout.
“My lady does not like to be kept waiting,” she said. Her voice was as sweet as a fairy’s. She folded her hands upon the table, tapping her fingertips on the worn wood. They, too, were covered in bone; carved gauntlets that peeked out from her long sleeves, the knuckles intricately designed to move with her own.
Sonara pushed her curse towards the girl.
She nearly choked on her aura.
Death and decay. Bones left in the sun to dry.
She swallowed it away, shoving her curse back into its cage. Her head throbbed painfully in defiance as she turned the key.
“Apologies,” Markam said as he held out a hand for Sonara and Jaxon to join them.Jaxon pulled out his chair and slunk into it. “The Devil does not take clients often. We had to iron out a small issue, but I assure you, she’s ready and willing to help you in your cause. Just as I promised you she would be.”
“Interesting,” the hooded woman said. “That’s the first time I’ve known you to hold true to your word, Markam.”
He shifted in his seat, but held his tongue.
“The Devil of the Deadlands,” the hooded Lady turned to Sonara. “A difficult woman to find an audience with. I apologize for the delay in rescuing you.”
“And who, exactly,” Sonara asked, though not unkindly, “are you?”
“This is Thali,” the Lady explained, inclining her head towards the girl in the Canis mask. “A cleric from the White Wastes, and my loyal advisor.”
That explained the mask, then. Clerics worshipped a great many things, depending on their beliefs. It often manifested in misunderstood ways.
“And you?” Sonara asked. “Who lies beneath the hood?”
It was then that the Lady finally reached up with those gloved hands and removed her hood.
She was beautiful, with hair the color of black desert roses. She had eyes that were so dark they were almost entirely black, with no pupils: the mark of a true Deadlander. But where her face was pristine, her lips red and full… her neck was marred by a deep scar.
It was the kind that was unmistakable, immediately drawing Sonara’s eyes; for Sonara herself had seen countless others like it on the necks of prisoners across Dohrsar, anchored to chains on walls.
It was the mark of a prisoner’s collar.
The mark of someone never meant to walk free.
“My name is Azariah of Stonegrave,” the Lady said. She lifted her chin, as if she wanted Sonara to see her deep scar in the rays of pale sunlight. As if she wanted Sonara to very clearly hear her next words. “More formally known as the Crown Princess of the Deadlands.”
Chapter 7
Karr
Karr Kingston, only a boy, trembled as he crouched in the shadows beneath theStarfall’s dash.
If he stared at his mother and father long enough, he could almost pretend they were deep within the safety of their dreams. Their eyes were closed, hands outstretched towards his hiding place.
They’ll wake up soon,he told himself.They’ll wake up, and we’ll walk out of here together.
It was the fresh blood, bright as rubies as it dripped from the intruder’s knife, that told Karr how wrong he was.
