Grey had shared the high-level information with the crew, so they could reroute in order to make landfall at the closest point to the Bloody Canyons. But he had held back what he’d learned about Wrathos. And—
“I heard what you said about Rhea.”
Grey’s heart skipped a beat. This woman had taken so many hits already, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be knocked down. Then again, he knew if she was she’d get right back up. Still… “I was going to tell you.” He thought it was true, but couldn’t be certain.
“But you didn’t. Which tells me something.”
“What?”
“You are a damn fool sometimes, Grey Arris.”
That, he knew, was true. “Tell me.”
“You still have feelings for that witch.”
What? He almost blurted out the question again, but held back, his mind racing. It was a mad statement. How could he have feelings for the woman who’d turned him over to the furia, the furia who’d taken his hand and tortured his sister? The same woman who had summoned the monster that killed dozens of their crew members and Kyla’s father.
Because you do. Because you’re a damn fool, just like she said.
Hence, the divide he continued to feel between he and Kyla, despite the fact that she was an incredible, beautiful woman he cared deeply about.
He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing, his silence almost as bad as blurting out the truth. Oh gods, what have I done? he thought as he saw a myriad emotions flutter across her face. Surprise first, like maybe she’d been clinging to hope that she’d been wrong, expecting him to deny her accusation. Then sadness, her eyes blinking rapidly. Finally, anger, deep-seated and complete, her beautiful eyes narrowing to scythes.
“If I meet her, I will kill her,” Kyla said.
Before Grey could even consider how to respond to that, she turned and walked away.
Grey hated himself for not going after her.
Up close, Phanes was much the same as it had looked from a distance. Arid, dry, empty. Grey kicked a stone, sending it clattering across other stones.
Most of the pirates were assembled on the dusty shore now, the last of the boats just now reaching the coast. The anchored ships looked small and unimposing from afar. Grey wondered whether he would ever set foot on their decks again.
Erric stood nearby, next to Shae. Though he tried to hide it, Grey could see he was in pain, his jaw tight, his teeth locked. “You should stay behind with the ships,” Grey said.
“No,” Erric growled.
Shae said, “We must go together. We are the only hope for the keeper of souls.”
Grey didn’t feel like getting more enigmatic answers, so he left it at that.
Kyla was helping to assemble the pirates, who were unused to organizing a supply train. They had several carts laden with food and water for the day’s trek, and hopefully back again. Beyond that…who knew?
She seemed to sense Grey’s gaze and looked up, her eyes meeting his. Her expression was a mask. If I meet her, I will kill her.
Grey looked away first.
They started walking without fanfare, the oppressing heat assaulting them from above as the breeze died down. Soon most of the pirates were wetting their clothing and draping it over their faces. The men stripped off their shirts and hitched their trousers to their knees. The women tied their shirts to the sides of their ribs and rolled up their sleeves. They were a bedraggled bunch, their clothes dirty and salt- and bloodstained, but none complained. They’d been through worse—a little heat wouldn’t stop them now.
Sweat dripped from Grey’s chin and pooled in the small of his back. He longed for the cool winds that rode the ocean waves, the spray of waves crashing against timber.
Her face appeared in his mind, dashing away all else.
Not Kyla—Rhea.
Oh gods, what is wrong with me? Grey wanted to scream, wanted to slap himself, anything to erase the memory of the woman who’d nearly destroyed him. But he couldn’t. And he couldn’t erase the desire to see her again.
What would you say if you did see her? He pictured it. “Good day, princess…I mean, Queen Rhea. Your pet monster killed my friends and my girlfriend’s father, did you know that?”
Kyla came out of nowhere, punching him hard in the arm. “Did you say something?”
“No.”
“Your lips were moving.”
“Were they?”
“You looked crazy. Still do.”
“Must be the heat.”
“Bollocks.”
“Probably.”
Kyla’s lips quirked slightly, like she wanted to smile. …kill her.
“How do you like Phanes?” Grey asked, trying to forget her threat. He was also trying not to stare at her midriff, which was bare, beaded with sweat.
“Not much.”
“Me either.”
They stuck to the edge of the red rocklands, which, if the ship maps were correct, would eventually bring them to the mouth of the Bloody Canyons. And if Shae was right…
What am I thinking? Of course Shae is right. She always is.
The sun arced higher. Impossibly, the day got hotter. They halted their march, squeezing into the cool shadows cast by the largest boulders and spires. They ate little and drank copious amounts of water. Too much, Grey thought, wondering how they would have enough for the return trip. But he didn’t stop them. Based on the flushed, sweaty faces and weary expressions, the pirates needed it.
When they arose again, Erric could barely stand. “You have to ride,” Grey said. “One of the supply carts will do.”
“I’m not a cripple,” Erric said, but there was little fight in him.
“You will be if you try to walk the rest of the way. It will take time to build up extra strength in your leg. Trust me, I know.”
The king huffed out a breath, but didn’t argue further, allowing them to help him into a cart half-filled with water. The other half had already been drunk, the shrunken water skins making a soft mattress for the pirate to lie on.
Grey took a turn on the cart, Kyla on the opposite side. Shae walked with them, never straying far from Erric’s side. For some reason, it grated on Grey’s nerves. He tried to take a deep breath, but the best he could manage was a shallow inhalation. It’s this heat, he thought. It will make us all short-tempered.
The wind picked up again, and Grey could almost feel the collective sense of relief that rippled through the group. Despite all they’d been through, they were still three-hundred strong. These men and women had shown great mettle so far, Grey had to hope they could survive whatever was to come.
The wind and that thought lent strength to his legs as they soldiered on.
“I feel them,” Shae said. “Do you feel them?”
“What? Feel who?” Grey asked, but she wasn’t talking to him, her gaze trained on Erric in his cart.
“Yes,” he said. “There are two. No…wait…there is a third, as distant as a star.”
Shae nodded her agreement. “I feel their marks calling to us.”
Grey understood now. The fatemarked. That was who they could feel. Three of them were in Phanes already, not including Shae and Erric. “We are close now,” he said. “Come on, the day draws closer to its end.”
They marched on. Soon the sun was more than halfway to the far horizon. The air began to cool. Someone said, “I see it!” and then others were joining in the cry. Grey set down the cart, clambering up beside Erric, who was already craning his neck to look.
Grey’s breath caught. Not only because of the wide gap between the rocklands, treacherous cliffs standing sentinel at the mouth of the broad canyon, but because of what he saw gathered before it in the desert.
Soldiers, standing in perfect rows, their leather armor seeming to soak up the sun rather than reflect it.
There were thousands upon thousands.
Suddenly his three-hundred felt like a single grain of sand in the desert.
Sixty-Thr
ee
The Southern Empire, the Bloody Canyons
Jai Jiroux
This is going to be a bloodbath, Jai thought as he stared at the yawning mouth of the canyon.
Once they entered the monster’s throat, there would be no opportunity for a swift retreat. Thousands would die on both sides.
Because of me. My orders.
Hordes of vulzures, as if sensing the violence to come, soared above the rocklands, drawing lazy circles in the sky.
Jai couldn’t look at the army, couldn’t meet their eyes, their stiff expressions, awaiting his next command.
Shanti was nearby, giving orders to her own squad, who were responsible for the traps she’d already set within the canyon. She was making last minute preparations, ensuring everything was in order, that each member understood their responsibility. Success or failure very much depended on them.
Jai trusted Shanti with his life, but that didn’t mean her fireroot could save all his soldiers. Such a feat was impossible.
Men and women will die, he thought. He’d repeated the same statement several times already, trying to come to terms with it. He knew it was necessary if they were going to take Phanes back from the slavers, but that didn’t make it any less difficult to swallow. Bitterness coated his tongue.
I could still give them a choice, he thought, watching as Shanti finished up and started toward him. I could stop using my justicemark and let them decide what to do.
But was the risk too great? Would he lose half his army and risk victory? If so, he would doom them all.
He needed to stay the course.
“An emerald for your thoughts?” Shanti asked as she reached his side.
“Is there hope?” he asked.
She squinted as a ray of light hit her face. “There is always hope, so long as good men and women choose to fight,” she said.
You are my hope, he thought, unable to draw his eyes from her. “Thank you. That helps. Now I want to kiss you.”
“You should,” she said, and his lips were upon hers before she’d finished the second word. The kiss was deep but too short. Jai feared he would not get another.
Stop thinking like that. You have well-trained soldiers. You have Shanti. The Black Tears will be here soon. The day can still be won.
A call went up, and they both looked to identify the source. Several people from Shanti’s fireroot squad were pointing toward the east, gesturing wildly. Jai followed their aim, seeing nothing, nothing, noth—
Figures moved in the desert, stopping almost the second he spotted them. “Who…” he said, unable to finish the question, his lips suddenly dry. Could the Phanecians have snuck through the rocklands to flank them?
The sun was directly on them, and Jai quickly guessed at their number. A few hundred at most. Not a large enough force to flank an army of ten thousand. Plus…their clothing was strange, shirts wrapped around their heads, pants pulled up to their knees. They didn’t wear armor. And the only thing in that direction was the sea. Something seemed to pull at him, his marking warming his heel. Inadvertently, he took a step toward them.
Shanti didn’t seem to notice. “Pirates,” she said. “What is their lot doing here?”
Jai was about to respond when another cry went up, this one from a greater distance, where scouts had climbed the cliffs to gain the best vantage point to watch the northern entrance to the canyons. Two of them were waving their arms. One lifted something, a mirror, which caught the sunlight and reflected it like an exploding star.
The signal.
It’s time, Jai thought, his gaze snapping between the pirates and the scout.
The Phanecians had entered the canyon. “Soldiers!” he cried. “Forward march!”
His justicemark throbbed dully on his heel, pulling him toward the pirates, but he resisted the urge to turn back. If they intervened, he would deal with them then.
Sixty-Four
The Southern Empire, the Bloody Canyons
Rhea Loren
Rhea was still bound, forced to march at sword point across the flat, harsh terrain. Bane walked with her, a slight limp in his step, which meant the entire group had to move at a crawl, even those on horseback. Somehow that made it worse.
They marched in the center of a great army, several thousand leather-clad men at the least. Perhaps a thousand rode the enormous black Phanecian horses, maintaining the flanks of the column. Those men on foot at the front would be the head of the spear thrust, cutting through the enemy with the blades strapped to their wrists and ankles.
But not before their long-distance weapons had their chance.
There was something inevitable about a march into a canyon, Rhea thought as the cliffs surrounded them on both sides. Going back was no option. The sides were steep and unclimbable. Which left only forward. If the way was blocked, then that was the end.
Inevitable.
She wondered what would be waiting for her in the canyon.
“Do not fear, Rhea,” Bane said, in that hollow tone of his. “Fate is with us.”
Rhea fought to keep her expression mild, disinterested. She still didn’t know what had stayed her hand when he’d appeared back in her cell, exhausted, prone, vulnerable. All she’d had to do was sneak up behind him and wrap her hands around his neck and squeeze.
It’s what he deserved. He killed my father.
She’d thought about it, long and hard. And then she’d done nothing.
Pity, she thought. I pity him. And I can no longer kill that which I pity.
She wondered if it was true, or if she’d just lost her nerve. If I get another chance, Wrath himself won’t be able to stop me…
“What you call fate, I call the wickedness of a harsh world,” she finally said, realizing he was still waiting for a response.
He laughed, his limp growing more pronounced. The hollows under his eyes were dark and gaunt, like he hadn’t slept for days. His eyes, though full of mirth now, carried the weight of weariness.
“Soon you will see,” he said. “I’ve seen what lesser men only dream of seeing.”
“And what is that?” She was growing tired herself, but of his antics, not the journey.
“The beginning. And the end.”
“What—no middle?” She couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice.
“The middle is unimportant. I think I finally understand that.”
In some ways, she wished she felt the same way. But to her, “The middle is everything.”
The sun was blocked now, the air growing cooler. If Rhea closed her eyes, she could almost believe she was back in Knight’s End, standing on her balcony watching the sunset.
Almost.
She sighed, that feeling of inevitability pressing down on her once more. Bane had told her about her cousins’ escape from prison. He told her they’d made it through the Gates to the west. He had no reason to lie to her. Which meant she’d achieved what she set out to do. Even if it wasn’t her hand that had freed them, they were free. Ennis and Gaia could rejoin their brothers and sister. They would be able to tell Sai what had happened. The army would hold the border rather than marching into a pointless war with Phanes. It was a weight lifted from her shoulders, leaving her with only one final regret:
That her child was now in grave danger because of her reckless actions. No one was coming to rescue her. And yet, giving up was the furthest thing from her mind.
All she needed was an opening, and she would take it.
A smile had just begun to curl the edge of her lips when the first man exploded in a flash of fire, his dismembered arms and legs falling amongst the throng. More fell, sharp shards of metal and stone protruding from their bodies.
Sixty-Five
The Southern Empire, approaching Hemptown
Gareth Ironclad
Gareth wasn’t certain what he expected when they marched into Phanes, but it wasn’t this. They’d been unmolested as they rode through the gates, ignored as they passed through the desert, and
now…
It’s a ghost town, he thought, watching a thick clump of dried scrubgrass blowing across the wasteland. Hemptown was practically deserted. Those who appeared in the streets quickly scurried away, slamming doors and shuttering windows.
Ennis’s eyes met his as if to say I told you. Though he’d made it clear that Bane and his army planned to travel further south, Gareth didn’t think that meant leaving one of the border cities wholly unprotected. Madness, he thought. Then again, from his few experiences with the deathmarked boy, madness was just another day in his life.
Unless… “He wants us to pursue him.”
“What?” The question came from Sai, who sat erect in the saddle, scanning the empty streets with the aloofness of one in power.
“Why else would the Phanecians fail to repair the Gates? Why would Bane withdraw his armies from the border?”
Sai scowled. “They have a rebellion on their hands. Their emperors have been dropping like dung from my horse’s backside.”
Ennis said, “Gareth’s right. Bane knew we were coming. Rhea made it very clear to him.”
“It doesn’t change anything,” Sai said. “We will crush them. Between the rebels and us, Bane and his so-called army will be an overripe apple between hammer and anvil.”
Gareth agreed, despite the sense of foreboding he felt. Though he didn’t care whether the Phanecians destroyed themselves, he wanted to find Rhea, if only to make peace with his own uncertainties about her. Who was the real Rhea Loren? His need to know was like a fast-growing plant, twisting inside him.
Or maybe it was just a distraction from his feelings of isolation.
Either way, there was no going back now. Not for him.
Ennis shook his head. “We are walking into a nest of snakes.”
“Then we shall chop off their heads,” Sai said, with what Gareth was beginning to think was an overabundance of bravado. Maybe he’s compensating for something. Maybe he’s scared.