Page 80 of Burn of the Everflame

I started for the tent, and she called out behind me. “Is this going to be a regular occurrence—the Queen living among the rebel commoners?”

“Is that a problem?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Not with me.”

I nodded. “Good night, Mother Dell.”

“Good night, Diem Bellator.”

21

LUTHER

“I’m telling you, she put her blood in that poultice. I saw her do it. That must be part of the cure.”

“What would you have me do about it? I’m oath-bound to obey the Blessed Mother. If the Kindred have chosen this woman, I cannot stand against her.”

“You may be High General Nidara, but I am Regent. If you don’t get her blood for my brother, I’ll have you executed for treason.”

Silence.

“I will speak with her. The Meros King called her a woman of kindness. Perhaps she can be persuaded.”

“Fine. But if that doesn’t work, I expect you to get her blood by any means necessary. Otherwise, I’ll lay his death on your hands.”

Their faces turned down to the bed between them and the sickly, wheezing man tucked into its sheets. The stress of the day had aggravated his condition, his blackened veins pulsing in a sluggish beat to match his dying heart. He stared vacantly at the ceiling, his once-orange irises now faded to a listless sand. Weeping sores across his chest left him in a constant pool of putrid mess.

The stench was atrocious.

The pain had to be excruciating.

Good.

“My brother deserves better than this,” the man spat. “He’s a good King.”

The woman’s brows lifted slightly.

A flicker of light outside the window lit up the room. The man looked out at the nighttime sky, where the clouds were ablaze with a wavering glow. “Never seen lightning look like that. This place isn’t right.” His gaze dropped to the palace grounds. “Too many trees. Too many places for enemies to hide.”

“Especially now,” the woman agreed. “Feels like there’s a strong aura in every room.”

The man turned and strode toward the door. “Get her blood tomorrow, Nidara. Whatever it takes.”

Once he’d left, the woman stood and held out her palm. “Blessed Mother Ignios, guide my hand to do what is right.” She looked down at the man in the bed. “And grant him the fate he has earned.” A single flame rose into the air, then vanished.

She sighed and walked out of the room. As the door closed behind her, the illusion I’d crafted melted away, revealing me lounging in what had appeared to be an empty chair.

“I should have learned this trick much sooner,” I said aloud.

I pushed to my feet and clasped my hands behind my back, taking a slow stroll around the room. I paused at the window. From this distance, the sparkling play of light in the clouds was stunning. The soldiers on watch were transfixed, unable to look away from its ethereal beauty.

I could barely stand to see it without wanting to scream.

I faced the bed. “My father said it was a waste to learn illusions. He wanted me to focus on magic that could kill. Magic that would strike fear into my enemies’ hearts.” The bed creaked as I sat down on its edge. “Tell me, is there fear in your heart?”

The man’s eyes twitched.

“Help,” he croaked. “Someone, help.”