“Mother, that’s reckless. Even the Brotherhood have never been able to infiltrate the Ice Demesne—”
She raised a hand. He fell silent.
I smiled at him, flattered at his concern for my safety. “Your son isn’t wrong, you know. I haven’t the slightest idea how I would infiltrate such a camp. I’m not a thief or a spy.”
Thaena tilted her head in my direction. “When you reach Atrine, look for a man named Mithros. He runs a mercenary company of free riders. He’ll be only too glad to counsel you in how to best tackle this problem.”
“Mother, you can’t ask her to do this.”
Thaena gave him a look to make a thousand elephants stampede.
“It’s too dangerous,” he insisted. “Relos Var will destroy her, assuming Duke Kaen doesn’t do it first. There’s no way Relos Var won’t know who she is. There’s no disguising her. No pretending she’s someone else.”
“Yes,” Thaena agreed, her voice soft and dangerous. “I’m counting on that. I’m counting on that very thing. I know he won’t hurt her. He loves to turn our families against us. She’ll be irresistible to him.”11
“It’s not your decision,” I scolded the vané, who seemed rather surprised at my interruption. “It’s mine.”
“You don’t know the risks—”
“What risks would matter? That he controls people and forces capable of killing thousands? I already know. That he has magic and power beyond my ability to fathom? I knew that when Thaena herself told me she can’t defeat him. I know it’s dangerous. Does that matter when so many lives are at stake?”
He scowled. “Why must you be so stubborn?”
“Why must you think I can’t decide my own path?”
He drew himself up. “I didn’t say that.”
“Just who do you think I am?” I gestured to the Death Goddess, his mother. “She has my thudajé, but don’t think I have handed you my reins. I have not.”
“Teraeth, she has made up her mind.”
I paused. “His name is Teraeth?”
“Yes.”
I chewed on my lower lip while regarding Teraeth. He seemed young enough. Not much older than myself.
I turned back to Thaena. “Is he claimed yet? He’s lovely.”
She blinked again, looking once more surprised, while Teraeth stared at me in mute shock. Then Thaena smiled. “Why … what are you offering for him?”
“Well, you do still owe me a boon.”
“A very good point.”
“Mother!” Teraeth’s scandalized tone banished any possible doubts I might have had about their relationship. He was mortified. His mother was embarrassing him.
Perfect. Adorable.
Oh, I wanted him.
I spun the illusionary Khoreval in my hands. “I think I will be fetching a great many souls for you before I’m done, great lord, and I shall begin tonight.” I had no idea what courtship rites existed for gods, or the offspring of gods, but by my people’s customs, I had stated my intentions. I didn’t worry about his father—Thaena’s idorrá rose greater than anyone she might have taken to her bed. My bargaining for her son would be with her.
“Mother, you cannot mean to sell me.” His tone teased, but something sharper than laughter laced the edges. Something darker. Doubt. A question lurked in that statement, an ugly question.
“Am I not Justice?” Thaena answered. “Would you not deserve it if I did?”
And suddenly she didn’t laugh or smile. This had become serious, and I didn’t understand why.
Teraeth glanced at me, and those beautiful green eyes filled to overflowing with regret and guilt.
“What’s going on here? What do I need to understand to make this clear to me?”
Thaena and Teraeth stared at each other for another heartbeat before he shuddered and looked away. Then Thaena turned to me. “We don’t always escape the sins of past lifetimes. But if you like my son and you win his heart, then he’s yours and you’ll find no protest from me. In the meantime, good hunting, my child.”
“Teraeth?”
He looked up from where he’d been staring at the ground. “Yes?”
I tipped my head to him. “We’ll see each other again.”
Teraeth’s smile turned wry. “Don’t I have a say in that?”
“Always. Until then—” I saluted Thaena and strode into the woods, searching for demons.
17: TIGA PASS
Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Three days since two women became the de facto heads of House D’Mon
“Please tell me you’re not married to Teraeth,” Kihrin said.
“Technically—” Brother Qown started to say as Ninavis handed him a cup of coffee.
“I’m not married to Teraeth,” Janel said. She reached over to flick thumb and forefinger against the priest’s shoulder. “Don’t give him a heart attack.”
Qown sipped his cup, smiling.
“Who’s this stallion you’re talking about?” Dorna demanded. “Teraeth? How come I ain’t met this man?”
Dorna hadn’t demanded any such introduction to Kihrin. But he suspected everyone in the tavern knew his identity.
“Dorna, I’ve never met him in the Living World,” Janel said, “but if I ever do, I promise I’ll bring him around to meet you.” She paused. “Assuming he ever figures out he’s not in charge.”
“Oh, you have got to stop falling for stallions who think you have to be the mare,” Ninavis said, shaking her head. “Anyway, you don’t even know if he’s alive.”
“Oh, Teraeth’s alive,” Kihrin said, feeling much better about the entire conversation. Teraeth hadn’t won Janel over? Perfect.1 “I spent a few years training with him. He is, however, an assassin and would-be revolutionary.”
Ninavis grinned. “Oh, now you’re talking. Sounds like my kind of man.”
Dorna held up a finger. “But is he reins or saddle? That’s the question.”
Kihrin frowned. “What does—gods, you’re not talking about horses again, are you? Stop that.”
Everyone, save perhaps Brother Qown, had a good laugh.
“Now keep going,” Dorna said, waving. “I want to hear what happened to my foal.”
“Oh, we’ve been switching back and forth, Mare Dorna,” Brother Qown explained, “so our voices don’t wear out.” He pulled out his journal and started to read.
Qown’s Turn. Just outside the Tiga Pass, Jorat, Quur.
They traveled from Mereina to Atrine in the most miserable fashion. The weather continued to be execrable since leaving the estava. Brother Qown resorted to using magic to keep them from losing fingers and toes to the cold, and not even Sir Baramon protested. They were only able to forage after several days, when the weather finally turned in their favor. Later, they stopped at a small village to buy supplies.
Brother Qown chose not to point out the count never seemed to need healing. Her skin stayed warm no matter how cold the ice or snow, as if she kept a real fire behind her red eyes.