I take a deep breath and stretch my fingers wide, before balling them into a tight fist. The moon has already risen to its full height and Max will be exhausted. There isn’t time to open anyone’s eyes to their own personal brand of darkness.
“He’s offered a high price if you find a beautiful Similian. Rumor has it, he’s looking for one to complete the Gireni rite,” the man shoves the pouch of coin roughly into the pocket of his cloak and glances around furtively. I frown in disgust. The Gireni are a brutal people and their leader, the Achijj, is the cruelest of all. Every spring he takes a woman from his harem and has his way with her atop his towering wall. Then pushes her off it, supposedly as a way to keep his lands fertile. “Whispers say that he has a long-term guest, a political adversary he is looking to impress.”
It’s the information I came here for. When Denver was captured, I wondered why no ransom was ever sent to the city’s council. Now I’m thankful it wasn’t. The council would never officially sanction some poor girl’s murder, even if it would save their Chancellor. I still don’t knowwhyDenver was taken, but I’m further than I was when he disappeared. At least I now have a clear idea of where he is and how to bargain for him back.
I should feel relief, that I haven’t sold my soul and kidnapped an innocent girl for nothing. The way to save the Chancellor is clear, but the abyss within me writhes furiously at the cost. I narrow my eyes at the man. “And is the Achijj who controls your warehouse? Ofmerchandise?”My lips form a sneer around the word, a reminder to the farmer that we both know the extent of what happens here.
The man blanches. “I—I—"
“Answer the question,” I demand. Though I make no move toward my daggers, the majority of which are strapped across my chest and hidden under the depths of my cloaks, the man tremors as if I’ve threatened him. And I suppose, in a way, I have.
I simply uncloaked the fury that burns in my gaze, proof of the chasm that roils inside me. Empty and wanting, broken apart piece by piece. Killing comes at a steep price in the Dark World, a price I have paid over and over. A piece of your soul. It was in the First Queen’s curse, the one that plunged Ferusa into darkness. With every life taken, the curse demands payment.
It is why no one can meet my eyes. Because in them, one can behold every piece missing. Empty and swirling with nothing but Darkness.
“It—it isn’t the Achijj,” he barely manages the words. His hand inches toward the shot gun he has concealed under his cloak. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. If I’d wanted him disarmed, I would have done so when he was out cold, but it wasn’t even worth the energy it would have taken. By the time he manages to pull the lumbering thing, I could already have snapped his neck. It really is extraordinary how safe guns make people feel.
“It’s the Praeceptor. He’s controls everything from the Boundary to Nadjaa, now.”
My mouth goes dry. The last I knew, the vicious warlord known as the Praeceptor had been beaten back to his territory in the north. The result of bloody war and an alliance between four other warlords, brokered by none other than Denver himself.
“What happened to the Blood Alliance?” I say, my voice deathly cold.
The man shakes his head furiously. “I don’t know!” he cries, shying away from my gaze. “It was quiet, not a war. One day the warlords ruled and the next, it was only the Praeceptor’s men. I don’t court death by asking questions.”
So he isn’t entirely naïve. I’m well acquainted with the kinds of things the Praeceptor does to those who ask questions. Things that still bring a wave of nausea whenever they come unbidden to my mind.
And now, he controls all the territory on this side of Nadjaa, the moon city. Thefreecity. The place Denver built as a haven of prosperity and safety. Of education and enlightenment. The very antithesis of everything the Praeceptor stands for.
The desperation in me is a knife twisting in my gut. If the Praeceptor is going to make a move on Nadjaa, he’s going to do it while its Chancellor has disappeared. Determination rises up in me. I need to get Denver back to Nadjaa. Now.
My desire to save him began as a selfish need, but now, it is all that keeps Ferusa from utter destruction.
“Thank you for your time,” I say, not bothering to cloak the menace that lines every word. I watch with a feral grin as the boy backs away, slowly at first, before breaking into a lumbering run.
I turn toward the woods, toward my family and the watch they keep over the Similian. The girl whose shoulders the fate of the Dark World now rests. The Lemming who, according to the prophecy that drove me here, will save us only through her utter ruin.
ChapterEight
Mirren
I wake the next morning with a groan. My fingers drift to my throat, aching and sore where Eulogius wrapped his fingers around it.
“Today will be the worst for the swelling.”
Shaw’s voice makes me jump, dread pooling in my stomach. My dreams were so blissfully blank, I almost forgot about the horrible degenerate who holds me hostage.
He sits in the same position he did last night when exhaustion finally overtook me, his pale eyes wary and watching. Perhaps he didn’t sleep. Perhaps he never sleeps. I’ll never be able to escape if he’s some sort of night creature that never needs to close his eyes.
I push myself up to sitting and run my hand over the back of my hair. Horrified, I quickly pull away from the tangled mess.
“You can speak fine, so I don’t think there’s any permanent damage to your larynx,” Shaw continues knowledgeably. I shoot him a glare. He either knows a lot about the human body or a lot about injuries. I can probably guess which one.
“Where are you taking me today?” I ask, succinctly ignoring his attempts at humanity.
“That is the question, isn’t it,” he replies vaguely. It isn’t an answer, and he doesn’t bother to look at me as he says it, digging instead into his pack.
“Of course, it’s the question,” I say hotly, “you’ve kidnapped me, and I deserve to know what you plan to do with me.” The words are sharp and, quite possibly, stupid. There’s no telling how much disobedience Shaw will put up with before deciding to be rid of me permanently. And with no law to guide his morality, I only remain unharmed on the whims of his limited mercy. And yet, just the sight of his face sends words careening out of my mouth.
