21. The Flame

Chapter 21

The Flame

M ariel rode back to Goldsea Spires in a haze of wistfulness and melancholy. Her parting with Remy and Augustine had gone as well as it could have, but it was as Remy had said: time would tell. A part of her had died with the dissolution of Obsidian Sky. Whether it was a part she would miss remained to be seen.

The ocher sunset glowed behind the hills and cliffs of the coast. She took it in. There was so much beauty in the world that she’d taken for granted, or had simply overlooked in her single-minded purpose. It had robbed her of more than a normal life. It had taken sunsets and sunrises. The comforting smells of baking bread or fresh rain. Life’s great beauties had been no more than practical measurements, tellers of time or indicators of potential impediments. No small joys for her.

Guilt had settled over her long before she breathed in the start of dusk. Enjoying anything when others still suffered was a luxury, one she’d railed against for so long, the words and sentiments were habit. And now she would benefit from these luxuries, even though they had nothing to do with her choice to stay with Erran. Her children would never miss a meal or know the true meaning of need. And a part of her was so glad for it, so relieved to not pass her trauma to another generation, that it only deepened her shame.

No matter what, she’d always be the Flame. It wasn’t a name; it was her . Not even retirement could take that from her. Erran had promised to help her people, and she believed him. She’d never surrender her principles, not even for him.

She’d just commenced her final approach up the cliff to the Spires when a rider raced up in a plume of dust. Before it had cleared, she could see it was Erran.

“Mariel.” He panted, skidding to a stop inches from where she was waiting. “Destin was arrested tonight. Again.”

Mariel pulled her hood back, unsure if she’d heard him right. “ What ?”

“Destin...” He put a hand to his chest and breathed deep, trying again. “Destin was arrested.”

“But why?” Said he had to do what was necessary. “Erran, tell me he didn’t...”

Erran’s woeful air was the only answer she needed, but he told her anyway. “He claimed to be the Flame again, but this time...” The trepidation woven through his words and expression had her terrified of him continuing. “He gave details. Lots of details. About many of your heists. He knew far too much, the guard told my father. Far, far too much for it to be incidental.” He massaged his mouth. “And, ah, this time he was sober. He said...”

Erran’s words trailed, muted, into the background. The sunset burned her eyes, obscuring her path, as she rode toward the keep, loosely aware of nothing but the horrible nightmare she’d had so many times over the years. Destin saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. Destin swinging from a scaffold. Destin gone, gone, gone when she’d spent the past decade building and fortifying protections from the cold cruelty of life and reality.

She heard her name in the distance. Erran was calling for her, and his voice was close enough that he couldn’t be too far behind. Did he know what she intended? Did she?

Oddments of the meeting she’d missed felt like memories. She saw Destin telling the others about her and Erran, about why it all had to end. She was right there with him, listening to his intentions and standing witness to them, but her own voice was locked. There was nothing to add, no words that would connect past to future.

Mariel leaped from her horse before she’d reached the long staircase. She narrowly prevented injury by landing in a crouch, her palms springing off the ground as she leaped back into motion. There wasn’t time to think, but her unending thoughts spun anyway, filtering through disorienting memories and premonitions. She was aware of every inch of her own flesh, tingling from the inside as she raced through the doors, her instinct overriding her courage. Her ears rang, forming a barrier from the anxious questions being hurled her way.

All the while, Erran screamed her name.

She ignored the guards who tried to stop her outside of Rylahn’s office and stormed in, flinging the doors wide. An irritated frown was etched his face, deepening into worry as he took in the state of his daughter-in-law.

“Mariel. I know you’re?—”

She stormed in, Erran hot on her heels, and slammed her hands onto his father’s desk. “You cannot hold him. You cannot, because it’s me you really want, Rylahn. Me. I am the Flame, and I can prove it.”

“What’s this about?” Rylahn demanded.

“She’s mad with grief, Father. Let me take her to our apartments,” Erran exclaimed. “Mariel, come on. Please, we can talk about this somewhere quiet.”

“Nay, we’ll talk about this here.” She pulled herself erect and met her father-in-law’s disordered gaze. “What my brother knows, he learned from me. He learned it all from me, but he has nothing to do with it. I kept him safe because he wasn’t built for a life like mine, and I’ll tell you...” Pausing to catch her breath, she glimpsed the horror in Erran’s expression, and she nearly regretted what she was about to say. “I’ll tell you something I did not even tell him. About Banner. So you know I’m not just trying to save him.”

Rylahn blinked at her. He turned his attention on Erran. “What’s this? Huh? What is this, Erran, a jest? This isn’t the time.”

“Your son has nothing to do with this!” Mariel boomed.

Rylahn recoiled in his seat.

“I married him to get close to you so I could take back every last feckin’ thing you’ve stolen from me and mine and every other last feckin’ person in your fiefdom! I lied and pretended and schemed and all the while loathed every last one of you. Every...” Her restless gaze landed on a horrified, pale Erran, and for a moment, everything around her slowed to a crawl. Her heart caved deeper into her chest, knowing she’d already said so much—and would say more. I’m sorry.

“Mariel, I’m trying to be reasonable here, but what you’re saying is utter madness. ” Rylahn stood. “Erran is right. You’re upset. You’ve had a great shock, and?—”

“Destin didn’t know about Banner because he was in jail. He knows only what I told him. Ask him what Banner’s wife looks like. Portly, with a hairy mole just at the corner of her chin. What she was wearing. A violet gown laced with yellow daisies. Ask him! See if his answers match!”

With each word, bits of her happiness flaked away. The contentment of Erran’s scent after he’d exerted himself to provide for them. The pride in his eyes as she became adept with his makeshift spears. The way he grinned every time she’d said something they both knew was ridiculous. How beautiful he’d made her feel, when she hadn’t known how wonderful it could be.

“Mariel.” Erran sank onto a chair and buried his face in his hands.

But Rylahn just stood there. Staring. Calculating. “Is there anything you wish to recant?”

Mariel pinched her shoulders back and shook her head. “Not a word.”

Rylahn flashed an inscrutable look at his son and marched around the desk, passing them both. He muttered something to his guards.

“Why?” Erran looked as lost as she felt. His elbows were on his knees, his hands open in surrender. “Mariel, I asked you to trust me.”

“I do trust you, Erran,” she said, but her eyes were focused on the door, on whatever future awaited her now that she’d outed herself to save Destin. “But my brother will never hang for my crimes.”

“You’ll both hang,” Rylahn said. Boots thundered in the halls. “Consider it a kindness, for it’s far more merciful than either of you deserve.”

“Rylahn, he has nothing to do with this!”

“Guards,” he said, so calmly she half expected attendants to appear through the door and not the twelve burly men who did.

“Father, you do not have to do this. Let me talk to her. We’ll explain?—”

“Erran, if you knew about this, I will never look at you the same.”

“Just wait ! You cannot take her away!”

“I can,” Rylahn said calmly. “And I will.”

“She’s my wife !”

“Would she say the same? Did you hear a word she said, or were you listening with your cock once again?” Rylahn snapped once, and the guards swarmed around her in a storm of thunder, blocking her from Erran.

Mariel stepped forward and held out her hands to be tied. Instead, she was thrust forward into motion, dragged on both sides so her feet lifted off the stones. She’d been preparing for the moment for most of her life. Had imagined it, including how she’d comport herself. The words she might say.

How bold she’d been in her fantasies.

How stupid she’d been, thinking she was ready to die.

Perhaps that had been true, before she had known love.

Several of the guards broke away to subdue Erran, whose desperate protestations followed her out the door.

Mariel was dragged from the room and into the hall, realizing she had no idea where they would take her. Did the Spires have cells or a dungeon? Would she be thrown in with the violent criminals in the village jail? Taken straight to hang, to avoid a scene?

Erran screamed after them. It brought her back to the island, to the howls of the dying boar holding onto the last vestige of life.

A door slammed.

Erran’s screams progressively disappeared into the ether of the past. Of a life that was beautiful for what little she’d lived it, a taste of what happiness was for others. It was always going to end this way, she finally understood, the toes of her boots skimming halls she’d walked freely. There was no justice for the powerful, only those who dared stand tall against them.

Life as the Flame was only possible without regrets.

But she had one.

Mariel wished with all her heart she’d told Erran she loved him.