Ever the Brave (A Clash of Kingdoms Novel)(69)

“Why didn’t you return till now?” My words have barely any voice, slipping out.

“It’s taken this long to muddy the intent.”

I press my palm against my belly. “And h-how do you do that?”

She steps away from the arch, a small sad twist on her mouth. A mouth that’s so similar to my own. Her hand dangles by her hip like a spider dancing up a sooty web. “How do you muddy water, Britta?”

I shake my head.

Her tone shifts, morphing back into something hard: “By adding more and more dirt.”

Heat invades my veins. I rub and rub my arms, needing to rid myself of the effect her words have on me.

Stepping closer, she lifts her sleeves, her not-quite smile gleaming in the lamplight. “Each swirl represents a life.”

Oh gods. I might vomit.

Her eyes shine. “They were weak, useless wastes of people. Not like us. We’re strong, you and I. Though I can sense the newness in your feelings for Aodren. Your energy sparks around him. But you’ll have to keep that under control. Feelings only get in the way for people like us. We’re survivors. Together we could be unstoppable.”

The woman’s moods shift in a blink.

I step back, recoiling from her madness. “I’m nothing like you.”

Her pale brows twitch up. “If you don’t want me to know when you’re lying, you’ll have to put the wall back up between us.”

Only, she knows I cannot do what she’s saying. Is she trying to entice me or taunt me?

“I will teach you. You want to learn. I can see the hunger in your eyes.” Her left hand lifts, reaching toward my cheek.

I jerk back.

“Your hope of escape is written across your defiant face.” She taps her chin. “Stay, Britta. Stay here at the castle, agree to work with me, and I’ll look the other way while Finn takes Gillian away.”

Her offer should feel more repulsive than it actually does. “And the king?” I ask.

“You’ll deliver him to me.”

I repress a shudder. “Why let Finn and Gillian go and not King Aodren?”

Her palm drops to rest on her hip. “My dear, you must cut off the head of the snake to kill it.”

“The king isn’t the beast that needs to be slain,” I argue.

She blinks, and the edges of her mouth soften, transforming her face. I stare at her, seeing for the first time a resemblance to Enat.

“Eighteen years ago, the Purge was set into action,” Phelia says. “As a boulder set loose to roll down a mountain, it will destroy all of Malam. It’s already caused so much destruction. So much pain. The high lord only wants to stop the damage. Do you understand? Lord Jamis is our champion. Aodren has allowed the Purge. Lord Jamis wants to end it. He wants to welcome Channelers back with open arms.”

My fingernails imprint on my palms, the pain stopping me from lunging at her and shaking her out of her madness. “What about the Channelers you’ve taken? You’re using them to make you stronger.”

Her lips shift into a sad smile. “We are at war, Britta. On one side, a king who has supported genocide. On the other, a mother who is only trying to win the right for women like us to live. To be free and unafraid. My gift is the greatest weapon we have. No matter how it grieves me, I’ll do what I must. If I have to sacrifice a few to save all Channelers—to save my own precious daughter—then it is a burden I willingly bear.”

I stare, blinking stupidly. She confessed to killing a guard in order to save me. Now she wants to take on all of Malam, in order to save the Channelers. Her actions are extreme. They’re vile. But in an unsettling way, they make sense. After all, in the dungeon, I considered draining the energy from the guards to save Gillian, Finn, and myself. I killed a man to avenge Enat’s death. It’s alarming, the similarity of our motives when loved ones are involved.

The idea of Channelers being free to practice their abilities in Malam is an enticing picture. Since learning of my ability, all I’ve wanted to do is submerse myself in understanding more about Spiriter magic.

“Britta? Will you choose to save your friends?”

There are no good options. Papa used to say, Make your own path when it seems there isn’t one before you.

Without answering, I turn and start once more up the stairs.

I’m loath to admit her manipulations have almost ensnared me. Perhaps that’s what keeps me from opening my mouth and saying anything more to her.

Precious daughter. She’s absurd. Not once in my eighteen years has she reached out to me to seek a relationship. I cannot bargain for Finn’s and Gillian’s freedom. Not with her.

Somehow, I’ll figure out another way for us all to escape. I’ll cut a new path.





Chapter

32


Aodren


IT’S A FEW HOURS AFTER MIDNIGHT AS I SNEAK through the castle corridors, avoiding Jamis’s men, until the dungeon entrance is in sight. I figure most people will be sleeping in the castle. Unfortunately, two men stand watch beside the door. It would’ve been ridiculous to expect that Jamis would leave the dungeon unguarded. Still, I was hoping. That feeling deflates when I consider there may be more guards inside.

Behind me, a rustle of fabric hisses along the granite floor.

I dart behind a column and wait for the person to approach.