“Of course you would adopt the mutt who looks like your daughter, Ragana,” Razia purred, his voice raspy from exertion. I froze at the use of my true name, one I hadn’t heard in decades and never outside the Far North. Even Solace’s eyebrows rose a fraction in surprise.
“How do you?—”
“Know your name?” he asked, all smooth confidence and smoke once more. Razia shrugged his thin shoulders, the gold in his doublet shining in the moonlight, even despite the smears of blood that marred it.
“There are many things we study in the Far North, now, Ragana. The old texts are important, don’t you agree?”
I bit my lip at the inadvertent admission; if he knew of the old texts, then he knew of Dagaal.
And now I knew where he would take her.
A slow smile spread across my face, its appearance causing Razia to frown slightly and Solace to cock her head.
“Indeed, Razia. The old textsareimportant. I should know . . . considering Iwrotethem.”
My mother and I, but those were semantics.
Razia’s mouth flopped open like a fish before Solace pushed him aside, shoving Itanya into his arms with a muttered “Don’t release her, you imbecile.”
“Bondsmith!” My name floated down the tunnel, the sound of Lex’s footsteps growing closer. I took a step back from the edge of the cave, then another, eyes trained on my half sister the entire time.
I couldn’t let Lex see Itanya; there was no telling what he would do when he discovered his daughter in Solace’s clutches, nor what Solace would do in response.
The rebellion needed Lex. So did Folami—even more so now.
A larger second step followed the first, the warmer, humid air from the caves sending goosebumps up my exposed legs and fluttering the ripped hem of my shortened dress.
“Fleeing, sister? Typical. Even when we clutch something your heart desires most of all, you are impotent. I will look forward to when your little . . . parlor tricks run out. Perhaps then, Fate will truly see who the strongest daughter is.”
Solace’s thin white lips curled into a sinister smile, one that would have set my teeth on edge if it didn’t make me so sad.
“Be strong, Itanya. Listen to the wind,” I advised cryptically, retreating further down the canyon. The little girl stilled, nodding her head even as her eyebrows creased in thought. It wouldn’t make sense to her now, but soon, it would be invaluable.
I walked backward, keeping my eyes on my granddaughter until I couldn’t any longer, the tunnel curving to the right. The last thing I saw before I turned was the evil smile that stretched across Solace’s face, disfiguring her completely until I no longer saw my half sister, but rather a scourge that needed to be ended before her wickedness consumed everything good left in this world. She might have taken Itanya, but she wouldn’t break her spirit.
Of that I was certain.
My conviction did nothing to stop the tears that ran freely down my face to splatter on the neckline of my dress, nor the sobs that wracked my body. So intent on keeping my emotions locked away and out of sight from Itanya, they came in forceful, heaving gasps that sent me to my knees as soon as I was out of sight.
With a heavy heart and wet eyes, I turned my back on Solace for the final time, knowing deep in my soul that the last time we saw each other would truly be the last.
And it would end with one of our deaths.
Part Two
SIX MONTHS LATER
Chapter Fifty
Kaos
“Her . . . training should end within the next few weeks. That is when we will need to travel north once more and collect her as well as—” Razia’s nasally voice continued explaining a rather simple concept to my sister, either unaware or uncaring of the danger that slowly built with each tap of Solace’s nail against the wooden arm of her chair.
I folded my arms across my chest, leather creaking with the movement and interrupting Razia’s monologue for a moment. Both goddess and sycophant turned minutely, locking me with twin looks of impatience; Razia because the man simply loved to hear the sound of his own voice, and my sister because I’d relentlessly expressed my . . . displeasure regarding the sacrifice of the girl.
“Silence, brother,” Solace hissed, her long nails digging sharply into the wood, deep enough to leave gouges. Razia winced at the action; the chair was no doubt some sort of Samyrian priceless heirloom.
I couldn’t conjure any sort of sympathy for the sniveling man—he should have known better than to let my sister around priceless artifacts. She cared nought for their significance or value beyond what they could offer her.
