“In the Meadows,” he whispered into his arms as they crossed the bars, his head sinking into the crook of his elbow.
“Emre…”
He cracked open his eyes when he heard his name.
Cadrianna stood beyond the bars of his cell. She looked sad, her once-radiant beauty forever marred by their forced separation of his decisions. She still had that illustrious glow about her that had first attracted him, but it was worn with age, with heartache, and grief. His actions that day were a waking nightmare everyday of her existence, and worse, he knew there was no coming back from it.
Still it, Benld! He rose from the straw mattress and crossed the cell toward her.
She leaned upon the bars, her forehead pressed against the rusted metal, her hand gripping that daemon blade shaped like an owl in flight. Their faces were mere inches apart. He could smell her, that overpowering scent of a woman he would never forget, no matter the distance nor the void between them. Gods, he loved her still. He wanted to reach for her, just as he had when she’d confronted him upon the mezzanine by the fountain. A husband always desiring to soothe his hurting wife.
“I’m sorry for the punch,” she said softly. “Couldn’t help myself.” A slight tug at the corners of her lips, a jest.
In the other cell, Finn’s head turned from under his arm, his gaze expressing concern. Or was it jealously? Two pieces of his heart, two so near and dear to him. Emre felt torn. Felt his will breaking down.
No! Still it, Benld! What must be done, must be. Remember that. Until the end, remain on target. Finn cannot know the truth. Val promised… O Val…
Before he could speak, figures stepped from the shadows beyond his cell. Solanine’s face was hollow, dusty, and crusted in dried blood. The normally coiffed hair was disheveled, and the once-impeccable dress was stained in crimson. Valeria stood motionless, her eyes hidden behind her veil, the peridot glimmering as she remained rigid. A third shadow hung behind, a big man, bald, someone Emre did not know.
“The Fallen enjoyed your little show, Emre Benld,” Solanine said as the blooddrake-in-humir-flesh stopped short of his cell, eyes narrowed into predatory slits, smirking. “Almost worked, wouldn’t you know?”
“Val, how could you betray us like that!” Finn spat as he shot from the mattress. He grabbed the bars and if they hadn’t been made of metal, might have ripped them free in his rage. “It’s me, your brother. You said you’d never do that again. How…how could you?”
“O come, brother-friend,” Val said. “You always knew of a spy, you just wanted to keep the wool over your eyes.”
“But Keph, he was the one…right?”
“Kephren was never a spy, Finn,” Val said. “You were just too blind to see that he was a tool and the means to an end.” She turned toward Emre. “You, Emre, you were growing too suspicious. Too close you came to uncovering the truth. You and that vile drakken.”
“Tevun?”
“That drakken served his purpose, he helped us discover the truth about the Seal of Terris. But he became expendable.”
“He was your friend, Val!” Finn shouted. “How could you kill him like that? You monster!”
Unlike Finn’s outburst, Emre struggled to maintain the calm exterior that Tevun had instilled in him: never show your weakness on the outside, bury the pain. “All this time, Val? I trusted you. You brought me back, for what?”
“The Godsblood. You think we needed you all this time, Emre? Please. The Godsblood is the only one we need.” The bikrome glanced toward the barely restrained Cadrianna, who gripped the daemonized blade. “O yes, Cadrianna Benld, those memories I showed you were indeed true. I did save the babe and put her in the Shards’ hands. She needed to learn aetheurgy of the Pentax. Without that training, she never could have bonded with the Eye of the Soul.”
Emre retreated to the mattress, slumping down upon it, his face buried into his hands. “Val… I…”
Solanine laughed. “You’re a fool for thinking your little rebellion could withstand the might of the Fallen. A fool for trusting your heart and not your head.” The blooddrake’s hand intertwined into Val’s. “You should have chosen differently, Benld. The Dunleiths are but a sullied line that will fall into the abyss of the void. Valeria made her choice five hundred years ago. Choosing the correct side. Choosing our Divine’s.”
He scratched his forearms but grunted. It was time to reveal a truth. “You think I didn’t know Val was the spy this entire time?” He glanced toward Finn, handsome face darkening with anger. Knuckles white on the bars of his cell, he shushed Finn with a curt wave. “You’re the fool if you think I wouldn’t know. You off all people, Val, you know what the Meadows can reveal. What the souls of the dead know.”
Solanine turned toward the bikrome. “That’s not possible, is it?”
“A bikrome’s power is finite,” Val said calmly, her bi-colored eyes glinting in the sparking aethecite lamplight. “I know not what the soul sees after death, only what the Pentax and Nocturne are willing to show.”
“Clever move, Benld,” Solanine said. “But don’t think for a minute you’ve won. The Godsblood has slipped from your hands. The Seal of Terris remains aboard this ship. Eminence is for the Fallen.” The blooddrake leaned closer. “I can see the hurt in your eyes. Valeria’s betrayal hurt you to the core.” Emre trembled. “See there, Valeria my love, he tries to hide it. You’ve hurt him. Bliss might have been wrong.”
Still it! “You don’t strike me as one who listens to the Pentax, blooddrake.”
“Ah, so the Gutter King isn’t one to pull the wool over so easily. It’s rare that you humir can deduce a blooddrake in their scales. Valeria would not have told you, there are certain secrets that remain between each other.” The blooddrake glanced derisively toward Cadrianna. “It seems you chose your husband well, whore.”
Cadrianna stiffened, telling Emre he’d guessed correct, the aetheurgist had been one of Cadrianna’s torturers in the life she lived under Lu Har. It saddened him to see his wife like that.
“I enjoyed your little reunion.” Cadrianna death-glared the blooddrake. Solanine cackled. “O little whore, I’ve waited this day to break you. Destroy what little belief you’ve long since clung to. I couldn’t pass this opportunity, regardless of Lu Har’s demands.”
Cadrianna stepped closer to the blooddrake. “Recall what I said if you ever call me whore again, Solanine.”
Solanine did not appear distressed, merely amused. “In time.”
Emre scratched at his scarred forearms as he stood straight, willing to step in to keep his wife from doing something rash, which she was wont to do. “There’s a certain stink that accompanies a frightened drake. Especially one backed into a corner. It’s almost as if they know they’re dead but unwilling in their ego to admit it.”
“You would know, wouldn’t you, Emre Benld? For I’m certain you had a full taste when our scourge laid waste to your precious wardkeeper. You rebel cairn given to us by one you implicitly trusted the most. How it must gall you to know the lives lost to you were because you trusted the wrong person.”
His rage nearly boiled over, but Emre restrained it. Inside he was a keg of aethecite ready to blow. Not now, not when he was so close. The detonator felt like a wagon cart in his waistcoat pocket. Soon.
Cadrianna, however, was like a cat with their hackles raised, ready to pounce. Her hand gripped the daemon blade so tightly, Emre could almost see her knuckles popping through her padded gloves. There was an unmistakable hatred emanating between the two, and it made Emre wonder if there was something deeper in their relationship. Something traumatic.
Seeing that he wasn’t going to take her baited jape, Solanine tossed him something, a small object. Emre caught it and realized it was an earpiece communicator, the one he had made specifically for a drakken. Lojen’s?
Part of him wilted at the thought of Tevun’s hatchling caught, or worse, dead. The wardkeeper heir’s blood would be yet more staining his hands. First Kephren, then Tevun. And soon to be others…
“Where are the others?” Solanine pressed. “The lapin slave and the pair of drakken you dragged into this little game of yours.” He fought to suppress a relieving sigh. They still lived, Wick and Lojen. Emre shrugged. “They can’t have gotten far. Your plan was doomed from the start. Granted, it doesn’t help you when everything you’ve planned is gifted on a platter to your enemy.”
