“I blame myself for thinking the gods were even interested in finding a different solution. But no … Every other race has suffered. Why stop now with the job unfinished?” She inhaled to calm herself. “Speaking of unfinished business, do you have Valathea?”
Relos smiled and ducked his head. “I do. Although it wasn’t easy to get her away from the Devoran priests, let me tell you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand what they thought they’d accomplish by kidnapping her.”
“To be fair, I don’t think they understood either. They only knew she was important. Anyway, that’s the other reason I wanted us to meet here.” He walked over to a storage cupboard and pulled out a cloth-wrapped triangle, which he set on the main table and unwrapped.
Qown blinked in surprise. It was a harp.
The style looked old but elegant, double-strung, made from fine and beautiful old woods. The blue-haired woman stood as Relos Var brought it over and raised a hand to stroke the harp’s neck.
“Valathea,” she murmured. “It is good to see you again, my queen.”
“If I may be so bold, Your Majesty, why didn’t you just take her before? I mean, you had her right there with you for months.”
“Relos … I’m not allowed to steal from the family. However, no one told me I was obligated to return what someone else had already stolen.”
“What will you do with her?” Relos Var asked.
“For the moment, leave her with you,” she answered. “There’s no place I could put her where I would be assured of her safety. When they took her I almost … well … it turned out I could be hurt worse than I already had been, but it took some effort.” She reached down and took his hands. “Promise you won’t hurt him, Relos.”
“Your Majesty, please believe me when I say hurting your son isn’t part of my plans. He’s far too important.” Relos Var smiled. “He’s going to help us destroy Quur. We need him.”
She took the assurance like a drowning person reaching for land, inhaled, and nodded. She leaned down and kissed Relos Var on the cheek. “Thank you.”
With that, she stood and inscribed a gate—carving runes in the air, using them to return to wherever she spent her days. The Manol, Brother Qown supposed.
But because he had stayed a moment longer, he was also there when Relos Var leaned back in his chair, snarling silently as he looked off into the distance. The wizard crushed the metal goblet in his hand into a small, dense ball before tossing the whole thing in the fire.
41: A MOTHER’S LOVE
Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Three days since Kihrin failed to bluff Gadrith
“Kihrin, are you all right?” Janel asked.
Kihrin slumped back in his chair and closed his eyes. “It’s like you said—we know all the same people. Hey, at least I know what happened to my harp.”
Janel stared at him. “You play the harp?”
“Yes, I play the harp. And Valathea was my—” Kihrin trailed off as Janel’s eyebrows rose. Then he remembered what Teraeth had said about having a type. He cleared his throat. “It’s not like that. Teraeth and I are friends.”
“Oh, of course,” Janel agreed. “How could it be? You only run with mares.”1
“Wait, I don’t understand,” Qown said. “The person you both know is a harp? I apologize. I thought you were talking about Queen Miyane.”
Kihrin winced and raised his head, turning to Brother Qown. “That wasn’t Queen Miyane. Blue hair, yes, and they’re probably related, given the first syllable of their names, but not the same person.”
“Then who is she?”
Kihrin knocked his head against his chair several times. “No, it’s like you said, Relos Var loves to attack people through their families. That was my mother. And I’d go through all the weird genealogies involved, but the Stone of Shackles came into play. If we’re only trapped in here for a few weeks, I don’t know if we have the time.”
“She sounded worried about you,” Janel said.
“Yeah. I suppose she went to Relos Var for help after I was kidnapped, when my father’s search failed to produce any results. And Relos Var told her what she wanted to hear. I wonder what she’d say if she knew he sent a kraken to kill me.2 He does not want me healthy and in one piece.” He shook his head. “I should have known. I should have fucking known. Of course.”
Janel and Brother Qown exchanged a look.
“Right,” Janel said. “Well, I suppose I should tell the part about my mother.”
Janel’s Turn. The Afterlife.
I knew what had happened just as soon as I woke up in the Afterlife.
“Son of a mule,” I muttered under my breath and wondered if I had really died this time. Had I been given drugs or poison? I wouldn’t know until I woke up again.
Or didn’t.
***NOW WHAT HAVE WE TOLD YOU ABOUT BEING TOO TRUSTING?***
I drew my sword as I turned to face Xaltorath. Xaltorath’s tone didn’t indicate she planned a mother-daughter chat about the polite way to eat shellfish.
“You might have had a point this time.”
***YOUR DEATH ISN’T PART OF MY PLAN. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I WILL NOT HAVE YOU TAKEN OUT BY SOME SPOILED LITTLE YORAN WHOSE AMBITIONS REVOLVE AROUND PUTTING HER BRAT ON A THRONE.***
“Look, I didn’t think—”
She backhanded me. That makes it sound like something a noblewoman might do to a courtier who displeased her. But Xaltorath’s backhand threw me twenty feet and would have slain me in the living world. And then she rushed toward me wielding a glaive, which hadn’t been there a second ago.
I raked my sword across her stomach, but the wound healed immediately. I stabbed her, but she grabbed the sword, grinning as the edges cut her hands. She broke the sword in half and threw the pieces to the ground behind me.
***I’M GOING TO HAVE TO TEACH YOU A LESSON.***
She reached for me.
“Let’s … not,” someone said.
I cried out as Xaltorath’s hand closed around my neck. She dragged me as she turned around. A woman stood before us.
I stared.
She had brown-red skin and black hair, and her eyes looked like mine. No laevos, no horse markings, but those details seemed like minor differences. Unlike me, however, she was swathed head to toe in a beautiful gown of shifting colors: green, red, and violet.
I knew at once who it was. Who it had to be.
Tya, Goddess of Magic.
“Our arrangement is over, Xaltorath,” she said, “for you promised to keep her safe, and you have done anything but, haven’t you?”
Xaltorath laughed and lifted me up, ignoring my struggling. ***SHOULD I KILL HER NOW THEN, TYA?***
“You won’t,” Tya said as she walked forward, “or you’d have done it years ago. So shall we have a fight? A battle until your pride is satisfied?”
Xaltorath opened her fingers and let me fall from them. ***NOT LONG NOW. THE PROPHECIES WILL BE FULFILLED.***
“So you claim,” Tya said. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
***YES, WE WILL.***