And still, when two men dismounted from their horses and approached me, I stumbled backward. When they gripped my arms and back with bruising strength, I kicked and flailed with all I had.
Something hard crashed into my skull, and I was flung into darkness.
* * *
I sat against the wall of Koerlyn’s tent, shoulders numb, counting pebbles on the floor to distract myself from the awful wails that filled the air.
Four days ago, I’d cried my eyes dry at the sounds of death and torture. Now, I was numb to the noises. Listening would destroy me.
Just like Koerlyn destroyed countless people at every village we encountered on our journey to his city center.
“Don’t cry. They did this to themselves.”Koerlyn had crooned thewords to me on that first night when he found me shaking in a ball on the ground beside his bed, my hands still tied behind my back. Adults, the old, the young—Koerlyn hadn’t discriminated in slaughter outside of the tent. I couldn’t see how anyone, never mind a child, had deserved what he did to them. Perhaps I’d voiced that part out loud because he’d added,“They wish to rebel. I hear whispers. I see it in their faces. It is necessary to remind them that to do so, to think so, is a grave mistake.”
Koerlyn’s punishments hadn’t extended to me. Though my hands were almost always tied behind my back, the skin of my wrists rubbed raw from the rope, I was fed one measly meal each day, untied to relieve myself, and generally left alone. I was even able to fix my braid now and then. Different men carried me on their horse each day, but their hands didn’t excessively wander. Aside from those words on the first night, Koerlyn had hardly acknowledged my existence, even though I slept paces from his bed on the ground.
I’d been lucky so far. Safe as I always was in my village, I knew of the kinds of violence that bad men inflicted on women. Maybe Koerlyn was waiting until we reached his home. There was some twisted comfort in the fact that he hadn’t taken me for my body—just my eyes, which were apparently a popular commodity among terrifying men.
I thought they’d change back to brown by now, but the two times I’d been marched past Koerlyn’s oversized mirror, their purple and gold hues were still vibrant. My dirt-stained skin only amplified the color. Still, I had no idea what they meant or why they mattered to the Princeps. All I knew was that it had to do with that vanishing woman whose multi-colored eyes, black blood, and terrifying voice weren’t from…here.
But if she wasn’t from here, the only other place she could have come from was the Domus. While that in itself was unbelievable, I’ddecided over the past four days that any other possibility was evenmoreunbelievable. The Domus at least held enough mystery that it could make some sense.
What we knew of the Domus was simple. Years ago, when Merelda was middle-aged and there were hot sunny days, lively winters, and leaves and grass and fruit—actualfruit—in the woods, the Territories weren’t divided under different Princepes. They were instead united under King Donon, who resided in Centralis, the city in the middle of the land. People grew restless and unhappy, there was talk of rebellion, and then the swirling domed walls appeared overnight, closing Centralis off from the Territories. Soon after, the land and sky changed. Trees became barren, animals died, the sun disappeared, and ashy brown and gray claimed the landscape. Nothing came from the Domus, and those who’d been to its mysterious reflective barrier couldn’t go in.
It had been that way for over twenty-five years: Centralis, an isolated world within a world, and the six Territories, each fighting for control of the others or entering uneasy alliances.
New rumors about the Domus spread every few years, of course. Each came with a different level of madness. The first I remembered was that unnatural beings cursed King Donon, and the Domus was built to jail him in his home. Those who were religious believed the gods had decided to make Centralis into their oasis, and then there were whispers that the earth had shifted and created a field in the air.
None of it was real.
There was, however, one theory that prevailed. It’d been spoken by Princeps Theo himself. King Donon was a coward who’d gotten nervous at the people’s unrest. He’d gotten something, some strangebeing, to erect the dome over Centralis, and ever since, those otherworldly walls had siphoned the life from our land and our skies.
Maybe it was the truth, but I didn’t believe anything that came fromthe mouths of corrupt leaders. Nor did I ever care much about the Domus. It was here to stay, and energy spent investigating its origins was energy wasted.
But what wascertainlytrue was that no one had laid eyes on Centralis in a quarter of a century, and no one knew what occurred inside. With so much mystery, it wasn’t impossible that the Domus turned people’s irises into violet and gold rings and their blood into black sludge. It also wasn’t impossible that one of those people had found a way out and stumbled into those woods.
Unlikely. So, very unlikely. But not impossible. And if anything, the past few days had taught me that parts of reality I’d considered to be fact were not fact at all. Eyes could change color, and the life I was living in Second Territory was not as miserable as I’d thought.
No, true misery existed under Koerlyn’s reign.
A scream cut through the air, and I flinched.
The Princepes of the other Territories…they could be brutal terrorists like Koerlyn. Harthon of Fourth, a mercenary who’d killed the previous Princeps to take his place, was said to be a particularly skilled butcher who slayed men for sport. I knew little about Fifth, Sixth, and First, but life there could be just as agonizing as the life outside this tent.
For the hundredth time, an ache filled my chest.
I just wanted to go home. I would never again complain or groan about my boring life. I would never again call it dreadful. I would find joy in the mundane, laborious tasks. And I would celebrate when Princeps Theo came to rob us of all we had but didn’t slit our throats.
Eerie silence pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. The fabric of the tent parted at the entrance. One of Koerlyn’s men appeared and stalked toward me.
My spine straightened. He didn’t say anything as he grabbed my arm and jerked me to my feet. He smelled of urine, gore, andsweat. I hadn’t bathed since I left my village, but I also didn’t go around covering myself in others’ flesh and blood. Compared to him, I smelled like a perfumed Princeps’ Lady.
I kept my eyes on my feet as I was marched out of the tent, not wanting to see the carnage. It was important that I held this morning’s bread and cheese in my stomach. My strength was my only asset.
He dumped me by the horses with another blood-covered man and left to help the others pack. A short time later, the horses and single wagon were loaded, and I was hoisted onto the first man’s horse. Disgust rolled through me as I slid backward into his soiled lap. Trying to maintain a distance was futile when my thighs were too tender to hold me in place. My chafed legs were a constant reminder that I’d never ridden a horse until now. At least my restrained hands and the thick roping around them separated my body from his.
Koerlyn sat on his horse ahead of us. As the convoy began to move, he turned to face me. Though far away, those icy eyes cut through the distance like spears. Thin lips tilted into a smile. “Only three more stops, darling. Then we can begin to put those eyes to use,” he said, delight dancing in his words.
I swallowed but didn’t respond, though I had no idea whichuseshe referred to. I hadn’t spoken since he had struck me with the whip, and I wouldn’t start now. Koerlyn was the kind of man who created reasons to inflict pain. I’d be stupid to encourage him again. And breaking the rules and traveling far away from my village five days ago was enough stupidity to last me my lifetime.
