Chapter 67

Chapter 67

M anic energy chased Mariah from Verith, leading her Armature west on Xara’s Road with an urgency that crawled beneath her skin.

The sun was setting when they reached a small town on the road, just before it branched and they would take it north. Mariah’s body was stiff and, despite the anxiety swimming in her gut, her exhaustion weighed heavily on her bones.

“What do you think?” Mariah nodded at the small inn and tavern, speaking to no one in particular. “One more sleep in a bed before braving the woods?”

“I don’t like it. It’s not safe.” Sebastian appeared at her side, pulling his warhorse to a halt. His brow was furrowed. “What if someone recognizes you?”

Mariah frowned. “Why would they recognize me? Because I’m a queen they don’t know?”

It was true. While she was coronated and the full power of the queen flowed through her veins like intoxicating threads of silver-gold power … none but those in the palace knew. Normally, a formal ascension celebration would’ve been held days after the coronation to present the new queen to the people.

But Mariah would not sit idle for another antiquated tradition while her family rotted in a prison cell.

Sebastian made an exasperated sound. “They have seen you before. At the parade, for example. And it’s not exactly common to see a young woman traveling with seven men.”

Mariah fell silent as she stared at the inn. The quaint little town was quiet, and only a few horses were tethered to the posts lining the road. A few stable boys lingered around the inn doors, bored as they waited for patrons, their presence indicating the existence of a proper stable behind the inn.

“ Nio ?” Andrian’s dark presence enveloped her as his horse stopped beside Kodie. “It’s a risk, but if you want to stay here, we will.”

Mariah held his gaze, sinking into the brilliant, sparkling blue of his eyes, before nodding.

“This is the last town we’ll pass before reaching Khento,” she said. “And it was a hard ride today. The horses—and us—need one last rest.” She tightened her jaw. “My family is strong, and I need to arrive strong for them.”

Andrian’s eyes glittered in the hazy dusk light as she pressed her heels into Kodie’s flank, trotting to the waiting stable boys and the glow of the tavern doors.

“Fuck,” Andrian murmured in Mariah’s ear. “I take it back. This might be too much of a risk.”

Sebastian hmphed. “Finally, some sense.”

As much as Mariah didn’t want to admit it, they did have a point.

While the inn had looked quiet from the street, boisterous chatter and a wave of warm, malted heat greeted them. The room was nearly full, patrons packed shoulder to shoulder around the bar or sprawled around wood tables and benches. A lively band at the back of the room played a jig, and several couples danced and laughed across a makeshift dance floor.

It was loud and bright and so alive .

Something about it all stirred a drifting piece of Mariah’s soul. Hooked a string around it, dragging it back to her through all the pain and rage and hollowness.

She’d spent so much time over the past months staring death and despair in the face. It was a beautiful, wondrous shock to see so much overflowing happiness and life.

Their horses needed the rest. They needed the sleep.

And Mariah needed … this.

Mariah shook her head. “No. If they have rooms for us, we’re staying here.”

Andrian groaned, the sound of it rumbling through her. “Of all the times you could choose to be social … why now ?”

She shot a glare over her shoulder. “I’m not choosing to be social.” A young man bent down at the table in front of them, asking a blushing girl for a dance. “I’m choosing to enjoy one last night in a comfortable bed.” A group of weather-worn farmers clinked their pint glasses together, crows’ feet cracking at the corners of their eyes. “I’m choosing a night of normal . I don’t want to be …” She glanced around before loosing her breath.

“I just want to be Mariah. One last time.” She straightened her spine, meeting her Armature’s stares. “And if you don’t like it, you can sleep in the stables.”

They grinned at her, a few of them chuckling. Even Sebastian took a step back—still on alert but conceding for tonight.

Andrian, however, held her glare.

“Fine.” He leaned in closer. The corner of his lip twitched. “But only because I would be a madman indeed to turn down one more night in a bed with you.”

She tightened her features, desperately holding onto her glower, even as the flames of her blush licked up her throat and cheeks. “Control yourself, Armature. Besides, I refuse to believe there won’t be many more nights to come.”

He pulled back from her, just enough for her to see his lifted brow, a smirk spreading fully across his face. “Many more nights to come seems incredibly accurate?—”

Mariah whirled, shouldering through the crowd as heat crept higher on her cheeks, his soft chuckle following her.

“Excuse me,” she half-shouted, leaning over the sticky lacquered bar. A dark-skinned, gray-haired man tended the bar, his tired, crinkled eyes swinging to Mariah.

“How can I help ya’, miss?”

Mariah flashed him her sweetest smile. “I’m traveling with my fiancé and his cousins to Ettervan. We need accommodations for the night. Is there any way you could help us?”

The innkeeper gave her a sharp-eyed once-over. “How many?”

“Eight, including myself.” She rushed out the words, delivering them with another brilliant smile. If he recognized the significance of a woman traveling with seven men …

But the innkeeper only grunted. “Large party. We’re quite full tonight. Let me see what we have available.” He shuffled away to a pile of books and ledgers tucked into a shelf above the bar, sliding a pair of glasses onto his wide nose.

A warm shadow wrapped around her back; just as actual shadows danced around her hips. “Fiancé?”

She shrugged, even as her skin prickled. “I needed something convincing to keep him from asking questions. Don’t tell me it triggered your commitment issues.”

Andrian’s breath huffed across her cheek as he laughed. “Far from it, princess. Maybe I liked it a little too much.”

Mariah’s eyes widened, and she was about to whirl on him just as the innkeeper returned, glasses still sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Good news,” he rumbled. “We have two rooms that should fit your needs. Bunk rooms, four beds in each room.”

“Perfect. We’ll take?—”

“You don’t have any single rooms left?” Andrian leaned around her, forearm resting on the bar. The innkeeper flicked him a glance.

“I have only one left, but it’s my smallest. It has a private bathroom, but the bed … it is quite cramped.” His dark gaze pinged between Mariah and Andrian, and more warmth bloomed across Mariah’s cheeks.

“That’s quite alright?—”

“We’ll take it.”

Mariah shot Andrian a glare at the second interruption, only to see him giving the innkeeper a blinding smile. The aging man nodded, giving them their total for the three rooms before helping another patron to a refill. Andrian finally glanced at Mariah, eyes wide with feigned innocence. “What?”

She grumbled, digging a hand into the satchel strapped across her chest. Her fingers brushed against the coin she carried, pieces of silver and copper and gold. Some of it was from the palace coffers, but …

As she placed what they owed on the bar top, the innkeeper swiping it up as he handed them their keys with a nod, she couldn’t help but smile at how far Donnet’s stolen coin had traveled.

“The food should take about twenty minutes, but I will be back with ale shortly.” The young serving girl smiled at their table, a soft blush staining the apples of her cheeks before she rushed away.

“Did we make her nervous?” Trefor frowned after the girl, ruffling his pale blonde hair as he scratched his temple.

Mariah stifled a giggle, the sound instead coming out as a muted snort. She settled further into her chair, leaning into Andrian’s warmth. His arm rested on the chair-back, his fingers tracing idle circles on her shoulder. “It may be hard to believe, Trefor, but I think the group of you would make anyone nervous.”

Trefor’s frown deepened. “Why? I think we’re nice.” His sea-green eyes slid to Andrian for half a heartbeat. “Mostly,” he finished, his mouth lifting a little into a grin.

Andrian’s fingers stilled, and this time Mariah did not try to muffle her laugh. “It’s not so much about being nice but more about how many there are of you. I just happen to be stuck with you for life and therefore had to get over it quicker than most.”

They chuckled, grins stretching across faces, as the serving girl reappeared with a tray laden with ale. Even Andrian smiled softly and shook with quiet laughter, his fingers resuming their circles on her skin.

Trefor turned to face the girl as she set the last glass on the table. “Do we make you nervous?”

The girl blushed even more furiously this time, her entire face flooding with color. “I—no, of course not?—”

“Because we’re nice. I promise!”

“Very convincing, Trefor.” Feran turned to the girl with his gentle, easy smile. “Don’t let him trouble you, miss. He’s seen twenty-seven years, but we don’t really let him out much. For obvious reasons.”

It was Trefor’s turn to flush bright red, muttering under his breath as the serving girl nodded her head and rushed away.

Mariah laughed again, leaning forward and resting her forearms on the lacquered wood. The loss of Andrian’s fingers was immediate, but his warmth still pressed against her side, solid and sure.

“I guess,” she started, meeting the stares of each of her Armature, “that this is our last night for some lightheartedness. I think, after this journey … everything might be different.”

Despite the noisy rabble of the inn dining room, the silence at their table was deafening.

“How are you? With everything, I mean,” Matheo asked from his seat across the table. Mariah’s smile faltered, shifted into something tinged with sadness.

“Better, now that we’re out of the city. And I’m glad I’m not alone, that I have each of you.” Warm smiles and nods answered. She cracked open her bonds, just enough to feel: affection, pride, fear, sadness, all woven together in a tapestry of emotion that seeped into her soul.

She wasn’t exactly sure when, or how, these men had become her family. Closer to her than brothers. The love she carried for them differed from the love she carried for Andrian or even her blood.

To be known so deeply and be accepted without question anyways was a special thing.

“Gods, you know what would be great, though?” Quentin leaned forward, palming the hilt of a throwing knife strapped to his chest. “If our bonds gave us the ability to use some of your magic. I mean, we each carry a piece. Why can’t we cut people in half with some light magic, like you can?”

Sebastian snorted, Andrian grinned, and Mariah laughed.

“First of all,” Mariah said, “I have never once used magic to cut someone in half.”

“Yeah, but you could. You put a cut in a mahogany table and stopped a lord’s heart with just a flash.” Quentin shrugged. “I’d like to do those things, too. That’s all.”

“I’m sure you would.” Mariah rolled her eyes, chuckling. She took a long sip of ale, the cool bite of the hops welcome on her tongue. “Unfortunately?—”

A familiar woman walked into her line of sight.

She was dressed in a simple gray tunic and black pants, a far cry from the strange silver robes she’d worn the last time Mariah had seen her. But Mariah would recognize her distinct features—and telltale violet eyes—anywhere.

The Leuxrithian priestess who’d first found Mariah at her Porofirat . Who she and Andrian had seen fleeing through the game park, escaping a pack of Shawth’s soldiers. Who had appeared in the palace library before the Winter Solstice and given Mariah so many answers but left her with just as many questions.

The priestess stood in the center of the tavern, glancing around as if searching for someone. Mariah laid her palms flat on the table and slowly stood from her chair.

“Mariah?” Sebastian stood with her, alarm in his voice. Even Andrian straightened in his chair, hand dropping from her back.

But Mariah ignored them. The priestess met her gaze across the sea of crowded tables. A slow smile spread across her ageless face, slightly up-tilted eyes twinkling with mischief in the warm tavern glow.

“You,” Mariah murmured breathlessly. So quiet, it should’ve been impossible for the priestess to hear her.

But the priestess’s smile stretched wider, and she wove her way through the tables to where Mariah and her Armature had settled in the back. She halted across the table from Mariah, standing between Drystan and Sebastian, the latter still standing as her Armature watched her warily.

The priestess dutifully ignored them. Instead, she met Mariah’s gaze, dipping her head in the smallest of bows. “It is good to see you again.”

The confusion that pummeled Mariah through the bonds she’d left open had her sucking in her breath. She slammed the mental doors closed; all but one.

But Andrian was not confused or suspicious. From him, Mariah felt only pointed curiosity.

“What—what are you doing here?” Mariah’s shock coursed through her. Bluntness was all she knew.

The priestess shifted, smile faltering. “That is a complicated question.” Her eyes darted quickly around the crowded room before returning to Mariah. “The gods make strange requests of their servants.”

Mariah scoured the priestess’s face. She clawed back through her memories; something the woman said was familiar.

The revelation struck Mariah like a blow.

The gods … The priestess chose her words carefully. Because she served no Onitan god but one from Leuxrith. Callamus, God of the Night Sky.

A god no one in Onita knew. The knowledge this priestess carried—that there were other gods who kept to other kingdoms, hidden behind closed borders and centuries-old embargoes—could shatter the foundation of many Onitan’s beliefs.

But Mariah couldn’t help but wonder if that foundation needed to be destroyed.

“Mariah,” Sebastian said, his controlled voice cutting through the thick silence. “Care to introduce us to your … friend?”

Mariah frowned, still holding the priestess’s stare. “I would, but?—”

“You can call me Signe.” The priestess turned her smile to Mariah’s Armature. “And fate has crossed our paths before, though most of you do not know it.” Signe lingered on Andrian, her violet eyes flashing. “Except for you, madr .”

Andrian chuckled softly. “I thought you looked familiar. Glad to see those woods didn’t give you too much trouble.”

Signe dipped her head again.

“It’s great to see you again, Signe, and to finally make your acquaintance,” Mariah said, voice slightly sharp. “But why are you here?”

Signe’s humor fell away, something depthless creeping into her face. “As I said, the gods make strange requests. But I am hardly one to question them.” She sharpened her gaze on Mariah, that same scorching stare that peeled back too many layers.

“You ride toward great danger and darkness. I would try to stop you, but I know it would be futile.” Signe pitched her voice lower, masking her words from the din of the crowd. “If you are willing to pay the price, then you will change this world forever.”

Mariah’s stomach plummeted to the floor, her heart racing as a buzzing ignited in her ears. “So, it is a trap.”

“I do not know. Everything is shrouded, and not in the familiar darkness of the night.”

“What about my family?” Mariah swallowed, panic clogging her throat. “Will we all survive this? Where are you going?”

Signe glanced around again, as if to remind Mariah of where they were. Even now, a few curious glances were cast their way. Mariah did her best to relax, to calm her racing heart.

“I cannot say more,” Signe answered. “I have my task, and you have yours. Our paths lie before us, and regardless of where they lead, I am glad to have seen you as I walk mine. I can only hope they cross again soon in the coming days.”

Mariah held Signe’s violet stare for a long moment. They exchanged no more words, but something passed between the two women. Something ancient and nameless. Something ready to be unleashed. Something indescribably female and filled with undiluted rage.

“Thank you, Signe.”

“You are welcome, Mariah.” Signe took a step from the table. “Stay strong and be the light against the darkness.” With one final, fleeting bow of her head, Signe whirled on her feet, vanishing through the thick crowd.

The tavern door opened, then closed, and Mariah knew she was gone.

“What the fuck was that about?”

Mariah slowly lowered herself back into her chair, not answering Quentin’s question. She fought back her nausea mounting higher with her fear.

As if on cue, the serving girl reappeared, bearing heavy trays laden with food. Mariah stayed quiet as their dinner was passed around—roasted vegetables, rice, and stewed mutton, all warm and inviting and hearty.

Her stomach still rolled, but she picked up her knife and fork and cut into her first bite. Her Armature shared a concerned glance, before following her lead and burrowing into their food.

Judging by their mumbled words of appreciation, she was sure it was delicious. But she tasted none of it.

Andrian leaned closer to her. His breath brushed against the shell of her ear. “Are you alright, nio ?”

Mariah nodded, taking another bite. She washed it down with a sip of ale. She tasted only ash.

“I will be.”

“That innkeeper wasn’t kidding. This bed is small.” Andrian stood in the doorway, arms crossed as he scowled at the small wooden bed tucked into the corner.

He had a point. The mattress looked soft enough, but it was barely larger than Mariah’s childhood bed.

“I think you’re just spoiled,” Mariah said with an affectionate grin, stepping around him. The meal had settled her some, but she was still on edge from Signe’s appearance. She craved a semblance of normalcy and was desperate to create some for herself.

Andrian grumbled. “I might be too tall. And you’re a bed-hog.”

And thankfully, Andrian somehow always knew exactly what she needed.

“ I’m the bed-hog?” She scoffed. “I thought we agreed to this a long time ago, Andrian. No more lies.”

He chuckled. “Fine. Maybe we’re both lying.” His eyes were bright and warm. “As long as you shower, I’m sure it won’t be too bad.”

“What are you insinuating? That I stink?” She knew, for a fact, that she did. One couldn’t spend the day riding hard in warm spring weather without picking up a certain scent. She strode further into the room, turning to the small, attached bathroom. She cast a look back over her shoulder at Andrian, who lifted his brow with a smirk.

“I would never dare say such a thing, princess. But also …” He shrugged.

Mariah laughed. “You’re an asshole. You stink too, you know.”

Andrian pushed off the doorframe with a brilliant smile—one of those smiles he seemed to share only with her—and closed the door behind him with a soft click . He chuckled and followed her into the bathroom, landing a kiss on her temple as he joined her.

The shower was small, the water barely more than lukewarm, but they still washed the grime of the road from their skin. The cramped quarters forced them together, every move a brush of skin, and it didn’t take long for Andrian to push Mariah up against the tiled walls, taking her hard and fast. Raw desperation fueled their joining, mixing with a fear they tried their best to ignore during those few blissful minutes, even though it lingered just below the surface.

Half an hour later, Mariah was dressed in one of Andrian’s shirts and sitting cross-legged on the tiny bed, toying with her grandfather’s dagger. She threaded light between her fingers, her body clean and sated but her stomach still twisted into knots.

The door hinges whined and Andrian slipped back into their room. He’d gone to check on the watch order for the night, and the floorboards groaned beneath his weight as he padded to the bed, dropping to a knee before her. He slipped a finger beneath her chin, lifting her gaze to his, taking the dagger from her and setting it on the tiny bedside table.

Andrian searched her face before brushing back her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “They are strong, nio . Just like you. We’ll get them out.”

Mariah swallowed. “I’m glad I made everyone stop. But now that we have, I want to be back on the road. I don’t want to be here, comfortable and resting, while they’re in that place.”

“I know. But your gut was right; we needed this. It’d be useless to them if we arrive tired and drained.” He dropped his hand from her chin. “Try to sleep tonight, Mariah. Then tomorrow, we can ride like the Scourge himself is chasing us.”

Mariah blinked and he stood, pulling off his boots before sitting beside her on the bed. She drew her magic back beneath her skin, sliding up the bed and slipping beneath the covers. Andrian followed her, wedging himself between her and the wall.

The moment he settled, she twisted into his chest, wrapping her arms around his middle as his hands brushed down her spine. His breath brushed the top of her head as she burrowed into his neck, taking a deep inhale of his rain and cedarwood scent. The smell of the Ivory Forest, of a quiet cottage in the woods, of the only home she’d known for the first twenty-one years of her life.

“Sometimes,” she whispered, “I worry because I think he might be.”

Andrian didn’t answer. Only tightened his hold, fingers tracing patterns along the scars on her back as she eventually faded into sleep.