Chapter 19

Chapter 19

T he clouds floating in the sky high above Ciana’s window mirrored the way her thoughts floated through her mind. Partially formed, mostly fleeting, and never sure if they would lead to sun or rain or snow or a thunderstorm.

Thank the gods she at least had wine to keep her company. She took another long sip from the glass of mulled red—she’d been craving it since meeting Beva—the bite of cinnamon warming her tongue against the lingering winter chill. She swirled her glass; this winter had lasted longer than most. The cold should break into the early hints of spring soon.

Which meant Mariah had been gone for almost two months. Two months vanished into mist and they had no more idea where she might be than they did on that terror-filled morning when she’d gone missing.

Ciana could handle thinking about all the other issues plaguing them. She didn’t mind stewing over the pirates’ arrival, or the flickering magic, or the way Sebastian had been furious with her after learning she’d disobeyed him and ventured into the city with Delaynie.

She couldn’t handle thinking about her best friend. Of where she might be. How she might be suffering. Some thoughts were too dark for even the most tormented of minds.

Sighing heavily, Ciana leaned back on her comfortable cream suede couch, legs propped on the gold and marble coffee table. A fire roared in the hearth, but since Ciana was nothing if not a constant contradiction, her balcony door was also slightly ajar, a cool breeze blowing in from the Bay of Nria. Ciana’s rooms were one of the few in the palace that faced the city and the Bay.

She was one of the first to notice the black sails creeping in on that terrible morning, and was often kept awake at night by the sounds of the battle along the coastal cliffs, the crashing of stone striking waves.

It was quiet today. They’d landed a hit last night, and the pirates still retreated. Their reprieve wouldn’t last long, but the pause was appreciated.

Especially when the lights had failed completely again that morning. This time, they remained off for six terror-filled minutes.

Despite his anger with her, Ciana would endure endless days of Sebastian’s scolding if it meant they could get their queen back. Not just for her; but for everyone.

This world needed Mariah Salis, despite the way it hated her.

Ciana took another long pull from her wine, savoring the burn down her throat.

She missed her best friend so fucking much. There was a woman-sized hole cut into the tissue of her heart, bleeding out with every beat. Mariah looked like she’d been wrought from darkness, and Ciana from sunlight, but it had always been the light in Mariah’s soul that had filled the shade in Ciana’s.

Her hands shook when she lifted the glass back to her lips, desperate for the burn to quell the ache in her heart.

A voice echoed from beyond her door. It almost sounded like her name, reverberating off the palace hallway.

That voice was Ciana’s only warning before a fist pounded on the wood.

Ciana groaned. “Good Goddess, it’s unlocked! Don’t go breaking my door down.”

She didn’t bother turning as the door slammed open. Footsteps echoed and two figures appeared before her, blocking her view of the Bay.

Her eyebrows shot to her hairline at a particularly frazzled-looking Delaynie and an uncharacteristically serious Quentin as they stared down at her, nestled into her couch.

“What is it?” Ciana dropped her feet from her table, setting down her glass as she stood. She first met Quentin’s stare, then shifted to Delaynie, the blue gray of her friend’s eyes wild.

“Kiira and Rylla found someone,” Delaynie said, breathless. “They found her in the city, asking for a way into the palace. I think you need to hear what she has to say.”

“They … found someone? Already? Who?” Ciana nearly knocked her wine over as she leapt over her coffee table, shoving her feet into a pair of slippers. She paused when Delaynie didn’t answer right away, turning slowly back to see the hesitation on her face.

Ciana narrowed her eyes. “Delaynie … what is it?”

“You just need to hear for yourself.” Quentin crossed his arms. “She’s in the throne room; everyone’s there already.”

“Well, you could’ve led with the fact that I’m late,” Ciana grumbled, already moving to the door.

“I didn’t think that would be enough to separate you from your wine.”

Ciana shot a venomous look over her shoulder at Quentin, his familiar grin faint on his lips, just as Delaynie swatted him across the back of his head. He ducked, feigning injury as he glanced under his arm at Delaynie.

“Ow,” he mouthed, rubbing his head. “That wasn’t very nice, little wolf.”

Little wolf?

“Don’t call me that,” Delaynie snapped. “Besides, if Ciana wants to have a glass of mulled wine, I don’t think any of us could blame her.” She met Quentin’s stare before flushing a brilliant shade of red and glancing away. “In fact, I think most of us would want to join her.”

Quentin chuckled. “Alright, alright. You win. I would kill for some mulled wine right now.”

Ciana watched their exchange, curiosity and amusement twitching at her mouth. “If that’s all,” she said, “I thought you both said this was urgent.”

“Yes. Right. It is.” Delaynie’s already-red cheeks flared a bit brighter as she brushed past Quentin and Ciana, storming into the hall. “Come!”

Ciana turned slowly to Quentin, the mulled wine in her belly pulling her lips into a grin, despite the urgent tenor that dragged them toward the throne room.

“’Little wolf’?”

Quentin stiffened for a heartbeat too long before stepping past her. “Jealous, Cee?”

Ciana laughed. “Hardly.”

She followed Quentin through her door and after Delaynie, her friend’s dark auburn hair swaying with her urgent steps as her hands gripped her full, traditional skirts. Delaynie had dressed down during their outing into the city, but that was a rare occasion; on all other days, she dressed like the lady of the court that she was. Ciana noticed how Quentin’s eyes tracked Delaynie with a recognizable intensity and remembered the teasing conversation they’d shared with Beva a few days ago.

Ciana hesitated before parting her lips. “If you hurt her …”

“You’ll chop my balls off?” Quentin grinned at her again. “Trust me; I know. Especially once Mariah is back.”

The mention of their queen’s name dropped the temperature in the hallway by at least ten degrees. As if on cue, the allume sconces on the walls flickered. Ciana swallowed, pushing her steps faster.

“Besides,” Quentin said, “it’s nothing. I’m just teasing her. She’s tougher than she looks.”

“Yes,” Ciana said, just before they caught up to Delaynie. “Yes, she is.”

They burst through the gold and white doors into the cavernous, glass-ceilinged throne room.

Mariah’s Armature were gathered before the great golden throne, brilliant pillars of lunestair gleaming with mocking brightness. They turned as one to face Ciana, Delaynie, and Quentin as they rushed across the marble floor. Rylla, in her human form, peeled out of the shadows, clasping her hands.

“What’s happened?” Ciana twisted her hands behind her back. A familiar, nervous tick. “Is there someone …”

Another figure stepped out of the shadows, Kiira beside her. It was a young woman—a stranger—her pale strawberry blonde hair piled piously atop her head. But it wasn’t anything about her hair or her skin that had Ciana tensing, had her vision flooding with anger, had something wild and strange racing through her.

It was the pale gold robes the girl wore. The robes of a priestess of Qhohena.

“What the fuck is she doing here.” Ciana’s voice was cold as ice, the ends of her blonde curls barely shifting on a phantom wind.

“Ciana,” a low, male voice said from beside her.

Ciana snapped her attention to Sebastian, his hazel eyes guarded.

The prior night, when he’d caught her walking in the stables … she didn’t think she’d ever seen him that angry. Sebastian did not yell, but his face had taken on a foreign, bitter coldness as he’d quietly asked her where she’d gone.

He’d warmed, just a touch, when she told him about the rumors from Beva, but had still stormed away with a harsh set to his jaw. She hadn’t seen him since.

Until now.

He swallowed. “Just … listen to her. Please.”

“Just listen to her ?” Ciana took a step closer to him, incredulity dripping from her tongue, amber eyes scorching. “She’s a priestess . A follower of that bitch, Ksee, who we all know is not innocent in whatever the fuck happened here after the Solstice.” She whirled to the priestess, fury blazing through her veins, gnashing its teeth like a monstrous maelstrom.

“Ksee is the reason the allume is failing, isn’t she?” Ciana stormed closer, Rylla watching her with a curious expression. “You priestesses are behind all of this. Everything.”

The girl blanched, taking a step back. “I don’t—I didn’t?—”

Kiira stepped in front of the priestess, forcing Ciana back with a jump of surprise. “Let the girl speak before you pass your judgments. We know you will want to hear what she has to say.” Kiira glanced over Ciana’s shoulder at the rest of Mariah’s court. “We know all of you will want to hear what she has to say.”

Ciana closed her eyes, forcing a shaky inhale. Tremors wracked her body—frustration at Sebastian, fury at the priestess, fear for her queen, all blending to form a terrifyingly potent cocktail.

When she finally opened them, she was surprised to find that the priestess had peeked around Kiira, watching Ciana with a similarly curious expression.

Ciana’s leash on her self-control pulled taut, just before a hesitant hand met her shoulder. She snapped her gaze to Sebastian, still wearing that guarded expression, but now a bit more pleading.

“You went into the city to find Mariah,” he whispered, just for her. “And I fucking hate that you did that, but … what if this is what we’ve been waiting for? What if this is the information we need?”

Ciana slowly looked back at the priestess. “What did you do with my queen?”

The priestess quaked like a leaf, skin paling even further. “I didn’t …I didn’t do anything. But I might know who did.”

That strange, foreign feeling filled Ciana at the priestess’s words. Hope .

Ciana took a step back to give the priestess space, brushing Sebastian’s arm. He moved with her, standing beside her in her retreat. She refused to look at him—she was still furious—but somewhere, buried deep down, she was grateful he was there.

He was right. What if this was what they’d been looking for? Endless weeks of fighting pirates whose only interest was to keep them occupied, to keep them from finding their queen, and with some twist of luck an answer might have stumbled onto their doorstep.

Ciana lifted her chin, inhaling a steadying breath. “Tell us what you know, priestess.”

The priestess glanced at Kiira, who nodded reassuringly to her. With a shallow bob to her head, the girl cleared her throat.

“Shortly before the Winter Solstice, we were ordered to leave the city and our temple by the High Priestess. We were told that the Queen Apparent was planning something horrible, and that we would be celebrating the Solstice far from her reach.”

Something horrible . Ciana remembered all that horror: the throne room filled with so much magic and light and life, it was nearly blinding.

“Many of my sisters were all too excited to leave,” the priestess continued, twisting her hands in her robes. “They were blinded by the High Priestess’s words, and … many were jealous. Jealous that a commoner was Chosen as queen, while they were simply dragged into temple servitude. They questioned nothing.

“But I …” The girl swallowed again, meeting Ciana’s stare. “I felt what happened on the Solstice. Even away from the palace, I felt it. Never in my life have I felt such raw power and magic. Something changed in the earth that night, and it was powerful, and blessed, and good .” Conviction shone in her eyes. “I felt the queen’s power, and I knew it was real. I knew I couldn’t defy her without also defying my goddess.”

Ciana and the rest stood in stunned silence, staring at the priestess. They’d known that what Mariah had done on the Solstice was earth-shattering, soul-shaking, but Ciana hadn’t expected it to be felt outside the city, even by those simply participating in their own muted version of the celebrations.

But was it enough to convince a timid, young priestess to commit an act of rebellion? The girl’s tale certainly seemed genuine and believable. But, then again, Ciana knew well that an innocent face was more than capable of masking deception.

She narrowed her eyes at the priestess, trying to pierce beneath any fa?ade. The girl was clearly still terrified, face washed of color, but she held Ciana’s stare without wavering. Her body trembled, hands clenched around her pale robes, but she did not falter.

A towering, golden-haired figure stepped to Ciana’s right. “Why now, priestess?” Drystan asked, voice soft and gentle. “Why flee your sisters and come back to the city now?”

The girl darted her eyes around the room, pupils wide, before settling again on Ciana. “The High Priestess visited us recently.”

“Visited?” Ciana asked. “Ksee hasn’t been with you?”

The priestess shook her head. “She was with us for the Solstice but then left. We haven’t seen her in some time, not until about a week ago. We didn’t know where she’d gone, but she didn’t look well.” There was a nervousness in the girl’s voice, a hesitation that Ciana knew was born from fear.

“Tell them what you learned when Ksee visited you,” Kiira prompted, accented voice soothing.

The girl nodded. “I … overheard some things.” She flushed. “I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but the High Priestess was saying such strange things. I owed it to my goddess to learn more.”

“Priestess,” Ciana warned. “What did you learn?”

A flush again rose to her cheeks. “The Royals have the Queen Apparent. They captured her with the help of one of her Armature, and have been keeping her imprisoned in Khento, at Lord Shawth’s keep.”

The bottom of Ciana’s world fell out beneath her feet. She reached for Sebastian on instinct, grasping his arm, digging her nails into his skin. Curses echoed around her.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Feran had approached, standing beside Drystan, voice deadly soft.

The priestess nodded. “That was why I ran. I had to get here, to you. They—the Royals and Ksee—are planning something. A ritual, or … I don’t know. But they plan to involve the Queen Apparent in it somehow, and … I don’t think they mean for her to survive.” She glanced pleadingly around her, meeting the stares of each of Mariah’s court.

Minus one, of course. But Ciana couldn’t bring herself to focus on that. Not yet.

“Queen Mariah is in Khento, and if you don’t save her, I don’t think she’ll survive the next week.”