Chapter 17

Chapter

Seventeen

TRESSYA

Too many concerns already burdened me, leaving little room to dwell on Ryia. Ever since she caught the dagger I threw, I'd suspected she was Razohan, and I'd spent the days afterward mulling over her reasons for coming here. Part of me hoped Tamas had sent her to watch over me, concerned for my safety while he was recovering. However, I thought it more plausible that the witch, determined to see me killed, had enlisted the help of an accomplice skilled in disguises.

Her motives would remain a mystery until I'd escaped Emberfell and the Mother's grasp. Tamas squeaked when I swept him off my shoulder and attempted to tuck him into my pocket. He resisted, clutching the fabric on either side, thwarting my efforts to push him back inside.

"You insisted on returning to Emberfell with me, so quit it. You'll draw too much attention sitting on my shoulder." Given Ryia was Razohan, I saw no reason to keep up the subterfuge, so spoke aloud to Tamas.

"Come," I snapped at her as I slipped into the king's garden. After our attack and miraculous escape from the tunnels under Emberforge, Ryia would bear the brunt of my lost patience. Tamas too, if he dared take his human form while I was inside Emberfell.

He was such a stupid ass, who wouldn't listen to reason and insisted we flee Tolum straight away once we escaped Emberforge. I refused, unwilling to vanish without a word to Gusselan. In fact, I hoped to convince her to flee with me, though I omitted that part of my plan when arguing with Tamas.

Once inside Emberfell, I abruptly spun, seizing Ryia by the arm. "Listen carefully, you're to go to the stores where they supply your uniform. Find me two sets of suitable clothing, preferably breeches and boots. The second set make similar to mine in size. Meet me here when you have what I want. I know I don't need to warn you to be silent. And be quick. The Salmun are about to descend on Emberfell, and we can't be present when they do."

She didn't immediately move.

"Hurry," I barked.

"You must take the servants' passages. You'll be able to move about the castle without being seen," she said.

"Oh." So much had taken my attention since the day I'd arrived in Emberfell, and the servants were adept at moving around unseen, so I'd hadn't known such places existed. "Thank you."

I followed her out of the king's garden and shortly thereafter we slipped into a small, dusty passage way with barely any light and drooping cobwebs as chandeliers.

"I'll lead you to your rooms, then head directly to the stores."

If Ryia had come to Emberfell with malevolent intentions, she seemed to have abandoned them, complying with my commands. She might have perceived an ideal chance to execute her scheme, or she might be genuinely cooperating. Either way, I had no time to dwell on the truth. I wasn't fleeing Emberfell dressed in these dirty, voluminous clothes, and neither did I have spare time to find something suitable.

"No. I want to see Gusselan."

Ryia hesitated. "Then I'll take you there."

She moved through the narrow passage with haste, reminding me of her Razohan heritage, making me wonder how much of the Razohans' traits would I inherit. All I hoped.

I noted the minor guides we passed to ensure I would find my way on my return, such as the thick iron nail hammered into the mortar between the bricks that signaled our turn left into another narrow passage.

Soon I felt nervous for how long it seemed to take us to wind through the castle's inner labyrinth, and just as I was about to complain, Ryia stopped at a small door, which required me to hunch to fit through and would have been easy to miss in the poor light. "This leads into the corridor opposite the dead king's rooms."

"Thank you, Ryia. Now be quick. It's imperative no one sees you. "

"I know," she said with a solemnity that sent an eerie tingle across my neck.

"And I need weapons." I added, before she hurried away. "I know it's a lot to ask, but you're more than capable." This last week I was getting a sense of how easy it was for a Razohan to perform all manner of tasks.

I left her behind and slipped into the corridor, thankful for the dim lighting in this part of Emberfell. As queen, I was expected to inherit King Henricus's grand chambers, but the mere thought repulsed me. I adamantly stayed in the rooms assigned to me upon my arrival, defying the Mother's insistence I do otherwise, which sent her into a rage, quelled only by her understanding that the queen was rarely left alone, and she was, supposedly, one of my servants.

"She is the most dreadful sight," Albert said.

"Whatever could have befallen the queen?" Borat replied.

Ignoring the three pesky spirits, I gave a small knock, then entered to find Gusselan stretched out on her window seat, peering out the window. Before she could say anything, I ducked inside and shut the spirits out, but unable to restrain their curiosity, they passed through the door.

"That ulcerous hag arrived alone. And her temper was quite the sight," Borat informed me.

"What's happened?" Gusselan rose from her window seat.

"Good luck to you, my queen. This little hoyden has a habit of keeping—" Albert said.

"You look as though someone attacked you," Gusselan interrupted him .

"I have. And we have to leave. Now."

"Wait, what is that hideous thing peeking through the folds of her ruined skirt?" Albert exclaimed.

I ignored both Albert and Tamas.

"What're you talking about?" Gusselan said.

"It's a rat," Truett shrieked.

Borat appeared between us, facing me, with his arms in a mock fold. "We would like to know the same. And why in the seven realms are you carrying a rat in your pocket?"

"There's no time to explain. But you can't stay here. It's not safe," I told Gusselan.

"We cannot go anywhere." Borat said. He glanced at his companions. "Does she intend to quit her quarters, or quit the castle?"

"She cannot mean the latter, you fool. The queen does not simply run away. There is her duty to uphold." Albert said.

Thankfully, Gusselan was too shrewd to ask questions, and took one breath to decide.

I was already heading for the door. "You have no time to pack your belongings, I'm afraid."

"She is serious," Truett exclaimed. "She is stealing off with the queen."

"Both queens," Borat announced. "Something is terribly amiss." Before I reached the door, he slipped in front of me, blocking our escape. "You will go nowhere until you have revealed yourself."

This was an ill-fated time to have an argument with a pompous old spirit. "Get out of my way, or I'll make you. And I know you wouldn't want that. "

I didn't bother to look behind to see what Gusselan thought of my conversation with air.

Albert and Truett appeared beside Borat. "You surely do not intend to abandon Emberfell," Albert asserted. "Such an action would bring disgrace to your lineage."

I clenched my fists, preparing myself to pass through all three.

"You can not think to leave us," Truett said, as Tamas climbed from my pocket and clawed his way up the front of my dress. Truett's eyes bulged, then he gave a shriek and vanished.

"Fine. Have it your way." And I plucked him off my bodice and placed him on my shoulder.

"Why do you have a rat?" Gusselan said from behind.

Albert recoiled as Borat's lips curled.

"Look how she touches it like it is a pet," Albert said.

Since I was still holding Tamas, I waved him in front of them, sending both Albert and Borat flinching backward through the door and out into the corridor.

"Sorry," I mumbled to Tamas as I settled him on my shoulder, feeling guilty for doing what I did when he was still struggling to recover from his stomach upset. It had already been a challenge for him to carry me over the rampart without feeling nauseous—a feat he'd have to repeat for both Gusselan and me. Now, having compressed his stomach to such a diminutive size, I was certain he was feeling very ill.

"I'll tell you everything once we're safe," I replied, then peeked out into the corridor. To my relief, Borat and Albert had vanished. But their appearance made me think of another spirit who'd I'd not seen since the Mother revealed my true heritage. I could only guess he sought solace with Daelon, after learning of my betrayal.

I led Gusselan into the cramped confines of the servants' passages, thankful she accepted my secrecy by asking no more questions, and retraced the path I'd taken to reach her.

Hurrying us along the passage, I thanked my sudden change in fortune that persuading Gusselan to come proved quicker than I anticipated. Hopefully, we wouldn't have to wait too long for Ryia to arrive.

The Mother was always a worry, but if my luck persisted, she would remain stranded at Emberforge, unable to return to the castle.

Once back in the king's gardens, I was disappointed to see Ryia had yet to return. "I was hoping she would have come already," I mumbled to myself in frustration.

"Who?"

"Help. She's retrieving suitable clothes and, hopefully, weapons. Though that may be difficult. And with our time constraints. Maybe I shouldn't have asked her for those."

"Do you now have time for my questions?"

"While we wait." But I was already pacing, unable to stay still.

I spoke before she asked; the tale tumbling out along with my nerves and frustration. "We escaped Emberforge." Before I could say anymore, Tamas leapt from my shoulder.

Beside me, Gusselan gasped as Tamas transformed into a man, but his legs buckled beneath him, causing him to stumble. He caught himself before falling, yet his legs bowed, and he wavered before tumbling into a garden bed filled with lush ferns and broad-leaved foliage, his head buried in the loamy soil.

I'd seen Tamas turn once into his beast-like self, shocking me with his swift and graceful transformation. Now he staggered around like a drunk.

I rushed over and crouched beside him. "Tamas." My stomach rose in my throat as I called his name. This was more than a pathetic stomach upset.

He could only muster a groan.

"I assume he's an ally," Gusselan remarked, not at all perturbed by his sudden appearance.

"Help me move him."

"I'm fine." Tamas rolled onto his back.

"You're not, you stupid fool. Grab his arm," I ordered Gusselan.

"Don't treat me like a drunk," Tamas complained.

"I'll treat you like an imbecile if that makes you feel better. You're getting worse, Tamas, don't you see?"

He rolled onto his back with another groan, revealing the damp soil clinging to his cheek. I went to brush it off, but he clumsily grabbed my hand, squeezed it for a moment, then lowered to his side. "It'll pass, so stop fussing."

"Shall I leave your ass in the dirt while I'm at it?" Come on Tamas. Show me some life.

"Tressya, Tressya, Tressya," he mumbled as though he really was drunk. "Your temper gets the better of you often."

"When I have to deal with you, it's all the time."

"Are we going to move him or leave him in the dirt?" Gusselan said without a hint of compassion. She was going to make an excellent companion during our escape .

I sighed, wishing I could summon the hardness of heart to leave the fool where he lay, but I couldn't. When it came to Tamas, my heart was like overripe fruit, a soft, mushy mess. He evoked emotions within me I'd believed were beyond my capacity to feel.

"Ignore what he says." I took one arm and waved Gusselan to take the other, but Tamas struggled from our hold. "Take his arm." Why was it so difficult for a man to acknowledge his fragility and accept help?

Tamas relented, allowing us to help him into a seated position, leaning against the leg of the iron table at the garden's center.

I gnawed on my inner cheek, watching him slouch, his head dropping to his chest. His condition had worsened since our escape from the tunnel, and I could only imagine it had something to do with him ingesting our enemy when he took on the nightmare—and I tried not to spend too much time on the idea of what he'd done. It seemed I would forgive any action for us to be free.

The creatures of the Ashenlands might cause plenty of indigestion, but what about those that followed? I was certain some were Salmun. I attributed his condition to their magic. Our greatest enemy, I felt little revulsion at the thought of him swallowing the Salmun whole, but I feared their magic was gradually taking his life.

It must have taken all his strength to scale the rampart with my added weight when he could barely sit straight now? Without his aid, we stood no chance of returning over the wall, which left the front gates, where we would be easily exposed .

"He's one of them, isn't he?"

I jerked at Andriet's sudden appearance and fell back onto my ass. At that, Gusselan frowned.

One of my kind, yes .

"How did he get inside Emberfell? The Salmun should be warned of this immediately."

"The Salmun are the enemy." Gusselan would think me insane for saying such random things, but my emotions were too raw for me to care.

"You say that because…" Andriet shook his head, unable to finish those final words, else they would make the shocking revelation a reality.

"I'm one of them." I finished for him, only for him to throw up his hands and turn away before vanishing from the room.

Andriet hadn't even realized his mother was with me.

"Tressya?" Gusselan prodded, her voice cautiously questioning my sanity.

"One day I hope you don't end up hating me," I said to her.

She gently shook her head, no doubt struggling to fathom why I said the things I did.

Hurrying footfalls headed toward the king's garden. I rose, hoping it was Ryia, but ready for the worst. When Ryia slipped inside, I exhaled.

She arrived with a bundle of clothes in her arms, and to my relief, weapons sheathed in a belt at her hip.

"I knew you would succeed." I waved her closer, but Tamas, slumped against the table leg, caught her eye.

Unexpectedly, she rushed to him and sunk to her knees. " What has happened?" The sight of Tamas ailing and Ryia dropped her pretense, finding her authoritative Razohan voice.

"Another ally?" Gusselan quirked a brow in question.

I nodded to Gusselan, handing her one set of men's clothes, then sunk beside Ryia. "It's complicated. And I don't have time to explain. He carried me over the rampart, and now he's in no shape to get the two of us back."

"I've never seen this infliction before." Ryia leaned close, placing her hand over his heart. "Tamas." Her voice was like a tender embrace, infused with boundless compassion, and for a moment, my lungs felt scorched by a searing flame. I yearned to swat her hand away, yell that she had no right to touch him.

They knew each other, of course, being Razohan, but her tenderness meant there was more between them. I squeezed my eyes closed, attempting to rid myself of this horrible sensation that made me feel inadequate, made me feel as though I was on the cusp of losing something precious.

Why did she have to be here? The thought was like a snarl in my head. I wanted to cry and scream at the same time, but neither would get us out of here.

"Then it can't be good," I heard myself say, forcing my attention to what was most important, which was not the wound in my heart.

"You say he's gotten worse?" She'd assumed command as effortlessly as the tidal flow, washing over rocks and finding crevices to fill.

"Yes." My voice sounded feeble.

I studied her expression, searching for any sign she understood the seriousness of his condition, but found nothing in her deep frown to comfort me.

Behind us, Gusselan released a frustrated sigh. We both turned to see her struggling to escape her dress. Without a word, Ryia stood and motioned for Gusselan to turn around. "I'll help you. You next," she nodded to me as she hastily untied the yards of lace strapping Gusselan into her dress.

"There's no point waiting beside Tamas. You should begin with what you can do on your own."

Though not rude, this was no way to speak to a queen, but I respected her sudden command, equally her courage. And I needed strong women by my side. Escaping this merciless place and saving Tamas were my priorities and neither I could accomplish alone, nor with only Gusselan's help. Besides, I was eager to shed this damn crown as soon as I could.

I did as Ryia suggested and thanked her for her help.

"I'll see Tamas safe over the other side," she said. "Both of you head for the Rampart. And I'll meet you there."

I hesitated, again feeling that sudden flush of jealousy. I clenched my fists, desperate to rid myself of the toxic feeling.

The way she'd said his name, with the soft intimacy reserved between lovers, I couldn't imagine it was anything less—perhaps they were still lovers. Maybe all his sweet words to me had been a lie.

Stop this. Rather than aid me in reaching my goal, all such thoughts did was make me feel sick.

"Go," she said, with a gentle strength in her voice.

I hesitated because I didn't want to leave the two of them alone .

Don't be pathetic. What did I think would happen? They were hardly going to canoodle when he was practically unconscious, and Ryia understood our dire predicament and the need for haste.

I glanced at Gusselan, who nodded her agreement.

Before departing, I crouched beside Tamas one more time and retrieved the folded parchment from his pocket, and buried it deep in mine. Then leaving our clothes where they lay, Gusselan and I snuck through the glass door, slowing long enough to ensure there was no one about. I took her hand, giving a squeeze for luck, before I released it and ran. Gusselan remained by my side as we raced toward the copse of trees, while invisible hands seemed to tighten around my throat and ghostly fingers brushed unsettlingly across my shoulders.

It wasn't long before I realized Gusselan had fallen behind, unable to match my pace. Yet, my lungs felt clear, my legs strong, and with each stride, they seemed to grow even stronger—Razohan strength. I felt invincible, overflowing with energy, and I arched my head, inhaling deeply, yearning to shout my exhilaration to the sky.

I wasn't a feeble human. It was no longer just Ryia and Tamas. I was Razohan too.

A blur of movement in my periphery caught my attention, but when I looked, I saw only the disturbance left in its wake. Whatever had passed was long gone.

Once I reached the small copse of trees, I slowed to allow Gusselan to catch up, though the copse of trees provided poor shelter, and I itched to get away. While I waited, I looked back on Emberfell, thinking of the Mother, wondering if she was inside or stuck at Emberforge. I pressed a palm to the scar on my chest; the mark left by the Mother, a symbol of her insatiable thirst to win, a symbol of my enslavement, but right now with the strength of the Razohan pulsing through my veins, I felt more empowered than enslaved. Eventually, I would comprehend the connection her mark forged between us, but for now, my focus was on Tamas and our need to escape.

Gusselan arrived, falling against the sturdy trunk of a tree, heaving in gulps of air. "My years at Emberfell made me lazy."

"Don't worry, we'll get there." I glanced to the top of the rampart. An impenetrable stone wall we had no hope of scaling by ourselves.

"How long have you known?"

"Curses," I yelped, jumping aside as Andriet suddenly appeared again.

"What's wrong?" Gusselan glanced around, as if expecting to see an enemy surrounding us.

"Not long," I replied.

"When I first saw you on the Sapphire Rose, you didn't know then?"

I shook my head. No words were a suitable reply.

"You didn't laugh at the pathetic fool dancing on the end of your puppet strings?"

Wasting moments meant potentially losing our freedom, perhaps even Gusselan's life, yet Andriet deserved more compassion than I could spare. He deserved the truth.

"Tressya, I don't understand what's happening?" Gusselan' s voice was calm, but I saw the shadows of concern beneath her reserve.

"Did you kill Cirro?"

"No" I shouted. "Never."

"And my father and brother? What about me?" Andriet recoiled, his face twisted in horror. "Was I to be next?"

I pressed my palms to my forehead, feeling the ground shifting beneath me, as if a fissure might open at any moment, mirroring the chasm that had formed within my heart, ready to send me plummeting through.

"I never?—"

"More lies, Tressya. Aren't you sick of those?"

I shook my head, blinking the blur from my vision.

"And the northerner? He's been here all along, hasn't he? An accomplice. Even better, a lover. No wonder you cared so little for my brother's affairs." Andriet's words were like a vise.

"We need to go, Tressya." Gusselan stepped forward and placed her hand on my forearm.

"Stay away from her Mother. She'll get you killed. If she doesn't do it herself."

"You're right, we should go," I said.

Andriet, I'm so sorry . I couldn't give him what he wanted or deserved right now. I needed to think of our lives.

"I won't let you take her." Andriet jumped between the two of us.

"The Salmun will kill her," I shouted at Andriet.

"Tell me what is going on," Gusselan demanded.

"It's futile, Mother. She's adept at keeping secrets and spinning lies, but she's never one to tell the truth. "

"Please—" I almost slipped and said his name, and that was one more guilt to throw in my grave. I'd never revealed Andriet's presence to his Mother.

I glanced around to see a sparse collection of scraggly trees standing between us and the base of the rampart, offering scant shelter.

Andriet was safe. While his heart could still be broken, his physical body could no longer be touched. We, on the other hand, were vulnerable. "Have you seen any sign of Ryia?"

Gusselan shook her head. "I caught something in the corner of my eye. The northerners are known for their superhuman abilities. I believe it was her."

She moved faster than the wind. Even the burden of my guilt couldn't stop me from hoping I'd possess her strength and speed one day. Given my tenuous links to the Razohan, that aspiration may remain a mere dream.

"Another northerner inside Emberfell?" Andriet gasped. "Mother, you knew?" The pained expression on his face wounded me as sharply as any spear.

But I was already crippled by what I was about to do: ignore Andriet. "We should continue. Are you ready?"

"I would never admit it if I wasn't," Gusselan said with a wry smile, her first ever directed at me. I reciprocated, and for one dreadful moment, feared it might be the last thing we shared.

"No. Mother, don't leave with her. Don't prove yourself the traitor."

Andriet now blocked her path. "She never told you the truth about me. She never revealed what she did; what she can do, because she knows no other way than to manipulate for her own gain."

I turned away from Andriet. "I don't need to tell you to run as fast as you can."

"You need to know." Andriet passed directly through his mother, enveloping her in the essence of his being.

Gusselan gasped, then staggered backward, pressing a palm to her stomach. There was nothing I could do to change this moment, nothing I could say to right the wrongs I'd made, except save Gusselan's life. I rushed forward and took her hand, intent on pulling her with me. "We have to go."

"Tell her the truth, Tressya. Tell her what you've done."

"Leave now," I shouted, summoning the voice to bend Andriet to my command.

I whimpered in horror at seeing him vanish.

Discipline . Panting my calming breath through budding tears, I pulled Gusselan into a run.

We burst from the copse of trees and into the open air, Gusselan staggering beside me because her mind was no longer on our escape.

"We don't have far. You can do it." I urged her onward.

As I ran, I glanced up, seeing birds of prey high above, circling overhead, invoking my memories of the Ashenlands. Suddenly, I felt vulnerable. The few sickly trees, dotted across the broad expanse of open field, were reminiscent of the barren wasteland. My heart choked my throat, as with each pounding of my feet, I expected the dark gloom of the Ashenlands to swallow me whole.

Without realizing it, I'd left Gusselan far behind, my legs carrying me as if I had wings, so I slowed once more on nearing a tree, and caught hold of its trunk to steady myself while I waited for her to catch up. After my sudden prophetic thought, I wanted her beside me. Finally, I noticed my breathing had hitched up a notch, making me slightly uncomfortable.

Jiggling from foot to foot, I grew impatient waiting for her to arrive. When she reached me, I was eager to be off, but Gusselan was clearly struggling to catch her breath. Hair loosened from her tie, clung to the sweat on her temple and neck, her face a blistering red.

"You're beyond natural," she said between panting breaths, and I couldn't help but detect an accusatory tone in her voice, though that might have been because guilt hung from me like creeper.

"When we make it out of here, I promise you, I'll tell you everything."

Time wouldn't wait for us, yet we needed to pause at this moment; otherwise, I feared I would lose Gusselan's trust. I opened myself to her inscrutable gaze, hoping she would see more than a woman who'd kept too many secrets from the people she loved.

"Do you plan to head north? Across the border?"

I blinked, not ready for such a pragmatic question. "I hadn't thought that far ahead, only to escape Emberfell. I have no idea how to cross the Ashenlands."

"I have a manor north of here. Henricus gifted it to me on our first anniversary. It's been practically empty for the last decade, but I maintained a small household of servants. That's all. We'll find privacy there."

I thought of the parchment tucked into the pocket of my ill-fitting breeches. To hunt down the Etherweave was my final quest. And once I held that power, I would rid myself of the Mother's dark tendrils, wipe the Salmun from these shores and restore the Razohan's rightful place in the south. I would undo all my wrongs.

I had no interest in the Tarragona throne, and though I was yet to fully understand the intricate link between the Etherweave and the Bone Throne, I had no desire to claim the latter.

"Thank you for your offer. I'm sure Ryia will be keen to take Tamas across the border. As Razohan, they can easily fly."

Taking him from me . My voice choked on the last word, the same horrible sickly sensation inflicting me in the king's garden assaulted me again, only this time, in replace of the scorching burn, I felt a hollowness swallowing me whole. For Tamas's sake, I wouldn't stop her. The witch who desired me dead would do everything she could to save him.

"You'll tell me why both are in Tolum?"

I mentally shook off my maudlin thoughts. The six pillars made me strong, but love, as the Mother always warned, made me weak. But I would rather be weak and in love than strong, yet as brittle as glass.

"I'm done with secrets." I'd turned my back on the Sistern, so it was time to discard the pillars, all except the two that I would always hold close to my heart: discipline, a steadfast mind and fearless heart, and courage, to never waver from what must be done.

I allowed one calming breath, centering my mind to our escape .

"Let's go," my voice was like iron.

"Halt," came the cry behind as I pushed off from the tree, about to leap away.

"Shit," Gusselan hissed from behind me.

I turned to see a row of guard, racing through the copse of trees.

"I thought it was all too easy," I whispered, doubling back and taking Gusselan's hand, yanking her into a run. "Ryia is waiting." She had to be.

"No, Tressya. They have crossbows."

Gusselan struggled alongside me, slowing me down when my feet yearned to run at top speed. "As long as they're not Salmun, I don't care what they carry."

Suddenly, Gusselan fought against my hold, tugging me out of my pace. "I may be able to do something. My ability's grown stronger over these last few days."

"For now, there's only a dozen. There'll be more. We need to keep going." My yearning to escape pulsed through my chest in time with my heartbeat.

"My plan is smarter."

"Against an army," I was yelling at her now.

We both turned back, and the sight that greeted us made my heart clench. Behind the initial guards, dozens more approached, and behind them came the Salmun.

"You can't control them all. Ryia will get us over the rampart. We just have to reach it."

"And what?" She jabbed a hand at the approaching enemy. "Outrun them throughout the streets of Tolum."

"Staying here means giving up," I forced the words through gritted teeth, fully aware that we were trapped. Cold fingers seized my heart, the ice slowly making its way up my throat at the thought of the Salmun's victory.

"You're right. Ryia probably can't carry both of us across at the same time." I turned back to watch the approaching guards, noting their cautious approach. That made me smirk. "We need an army of our own." My conviction was sharp as a blade.

"No." I glanced at Gusselan, puzzled by her harsh tone. "No dead," she insisted, her grip painfully tight on my arm. "We're disciples, are we not?"

I pressed my lips together and nodded.

"Let them come." Her voice remained low and calm. "Let them think they've won."

Side by side, we watched the guards loom closer, their cautious steps crunching amongst the dead leaves, tightening the tension in the already thinning air. Their eyes flitted nervously between us, and I wondered what the Salmun had told them to make them so timid.

As they closed in, they fanned out, forming a circle around us, thinking to ensnare us like animals. I slowly turned, following those on the left, until Gusselan and I stood back to back, keeping our eyes firmly on the approaching Salmun.

I flexed my hands over the hilt of my weapons, knowing there was little point in using blades; the Salmun would ensure none met their mark. They were now well aware of the tricks I could play with my mind, which made me question how effective my soul voice would be this time. If I had magic, we wouldn't be in this predicament; the Salmun wouldn't dare challenge us openly .

When I first learned I was heir to the Etherweave, I felt ambivalent. That ambivalence was far behind me now.

The Salmun's gray cloaks flared outward in the gentle breeze, but they kept their hoods pulled low. For the first time, I noticed the simple gray tunic and pants they wore underneath, a stark contrast to the powerful image they tried to portray.

The guards remained silent, waiting for the eight Salmun to arrive, taking their time and savoring their success like victors after a battle.

"I'll handle the guards," Gusselan whispered.

"I'll deal with the Salmun." Somehow.

"My Queen," Orphus' voice slithered out from under his hood, coiling around my throat. "You've placed yourself in a most unfortunate situation." He stepped into the circle formed by the guards, the other seven following to create an inner circle of their own.

"You have two things of mine. Two…very…precious possessions of mine. You understand I cannot let you flee with them."

I tried not to move, though my hand itched to press firmly against the pocket where I'd hidden the pages of the Senjel Oracles.

"Two?" Of course, he would see me as something he owned if that's what he was referring to.

If only I could see his eyes; perhaps then I could gauge his confidence and discern if he had already found a way to keep me out of his head.

"The pages, My Queen. I'm somewhat irked to find the sacred book defiled, but the pages you carelessly ripped from the center are the most important part of the Senjel Oracles."

"And the second?"

"I would argue, perhaps, the most important part—your soul, My Queen."

I bumped into Gusselan's back before I even realized I'd moved, as a heavy sensation sunk through to my feet, turning me to stone.

"Oh yes, it's quite possible you're not really necessary at all. At least not all of you. As one who commands the dead, do you understand what it is you manipulate when you call the dead?"

I stared at him, my mouth too dry to speak.

"They're souls, young queen. That is all. The body is insignificant, and the mind matters little, especially if you plan to turn them into instruments of your desires. When it comes to magic, the soul is the most powerful tool. As masters of soul manipulation, we would struggle to control a Razohan's soul. But yours…"

"I am Razohan," I spat.

"Not fully, My Queen. Not yet. That's why we must perform the ritual without delay."

Gusselan took my hand and gently squeezed it.

A guard to my left suddenly turned his crossbow and fired a bolt into the back of the Salmun in front of him. The Salmun's cry of shocked agony seemed to signal two more guards on my right, who also aimed their crossbows and fired.

The Salmun spun to face their attackers, raising their arms. A low, reverberating chant hummed through the air, oddly soothing in its melody. Rather than a lullaby, their chant formed a shield, causing the bolts to fall harmlessly away.

My dagger left my hand just as Orphus turned back to face me. In mere seconds, it reached him, embedding in the center of his chest instead of his heart because he'd had enough time to jerk sideways. Curses.

His cry halted the attack, and he staggered sideways, caught by one of his own. His hood fell back, revealing his marked face and the hatred in his eyes. His expression was not of a man in pain, but of one possessed by madness, revenge and a savagery intent on destroying realms. "I'll gladly take your soul," he hissed.

With unwavering conviction, Aetherius surged forth, spearing into Orphus' mind without mercy. Orphus was ready, though, with a mental armor I couldn't yet break. But wounded, how long would his barrier hold?

I became dimly aware of the guards trying to break the Salmun's shield, using their bodies and crossbows as weapons in a futile attempt to shatter it.

Thank you, Gusselan . They would fail, of course, but their efforts distracted the rest of the Salmun while I focused on Orphus.

Was the prickling sensation stabbing at my mind him? His eyes were fixed on me, his lips set in a grimace.

"A battle of wills," I muttered. "It worked in my favor last time."

"I'll leave nothing intact this time," Orphus growled.

A pain sliced through the back of my mind, forcing my knees to bend under the torment .

"Tressya," Gusselan gasped, taking my hand.

I shut my eyes, ridding Orphus' evil sneer from my sight, and clenched my teeth. We're greater than him . I inhaled, delving deep within, gathering the full might of my soul word, feeling its strength embolden me.

There was a sudden grunt, and I was released from my torment. I opened my eyes to see Andriet flittering around the Salmun, passing in and out of each like a needle and thread.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he shouted at me. "I've totally lost my head." As he continued to pass through the bodies of our enemy.

It appeared even the mighty Salmun was uncomfortable with the touch of spirits. Andriet had caught them by surprise, and all seemed confused and badly prepared to deal with the ill feelings his essence created. However, this, too, was nothing more than a distraction.

I concentrated on wielding Aetherius like a giant's fist.

"I should champion the Salmun on. They're on my side," Andriet continued. Then he stopped before punching through the chest of another Salmun and stared at me. "You've hurt me beyond words. My heart's in tatters. It may never recover. But…I don't want you to join me, Tressya. Not yet."

Aetherius slipped from my grasp as Andriet's words echoed in my mind. Tears blurred my vision of him, then an agony like no other shot through my head like a bolt. I screamed, my body seizing, my head arching backward. In the distance, I heard a laugh that could turn embers into a ravenous fire. I heard Andriet cry my name with a fear that could kill the dead as a chilling smugness crept across my mind like molasses.

Just as I realized Orphus had found a path into my mind, ready to rip away my control, destroy my sanity, and take my soul, a black form moved overhead. A massive shadow blotted out the sun, casting everything around us into gray.

The nightmare.