The Banished of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood, #1)(99)

“Your look has . . . altered,” Corriveaux said, tapping his lip.

He gestured to a large stuffed chair, but Maia knew that if she sat down, lay down, or even stopped moving, she would lose her mind again. There were icy waters beneath her and she was moving on fragile ice.

She did not know how long she would be able to keep her mind, so she had to move quickly. “Where is the High Seer?” Maia asked, trying to summon an imperious tone.

Corriveaux’s mouth twitched. “You wish to kill her already? I am not surprised. It will cause a backlash from the mastons, of course. But I know we can keep it quiet for the entire winter at least. You wish her brought . . . here? I thought you may perhaps wish to use the dungeon.”

“Bring her to me,” Maia said, trying to breathe.

“Very well,” Corriveaux said. He walked to the door, opened it, and gave the order.

Maia could feel a thrill of victory churning in her chest. She squeezed her hands, trying to tame her feelings.

“Are you quite yourself, Your Majesty?” Corriveaux asked. “Your expression is troubled. Your hands are nervous. Pardon my noticing such things, but that is what I do. Is she still . . . struggling?”

Maia rubbed her hands together, pacing through the room, looking at every detail to distract her mind. The luxuriousness of this chamber was beyond Maia’s experience, even within her father’s court in Comoros. Every dish and spoon, every cut of cloth was exceptional and costly. The room was immaculately clean. The wealth of the Dochte Mandar was both gaudy and proud. A door led to a veranda outside. She walked over to the glass of the inset window and stared outside, seeing stone sculptures in the gardens beyond and rugged shrubs that could somehow endure bitter cold.

“Do you wish to see it?” Corriveaux said at her ear. She felt the pulse of the Medium again, and the Leerings throughout the garden suddenly exploded with light. Maia needed to shield her eyes against the glare. The blackness of the night had been completely driven away. It could have been a spring morning, just before dawn. The gardens were beautifully and intricately designed, one area leading to the next with steps and rotundas and benches and statuary that was mismatched yet fashionable.

“The Victus have spent years assembling these pieces,” Corriveaux said. “Gathered from fallen abbeys throughout all the seven kingdoms. While we lack the artisans to fashion our own, I think the effect is sufficiently grand. We are your humble servants, Empress.” He smiled at her—like a wolf. “I cannot tell you how long we have searched for a woman sufficiently strong and young to house your ancient spirit. I tell you, these plans have been underway for quite some time. You chose an acceptable consort, the King of Dahomey. But I think he may be too young and impetuous. Chaining him with a kystrel was brilliant, of course, but he will soon lose his usefulness to our plans, will he not? He is pining for you in one of the guest rooms.”

Maia looked at him, her heart pounding with fear and desperation, but she was relieved to know Collier had not been harmed. She had ruined Cruix Abbey through her ignorance, destroying its Aldermaston with a kiss. But the one who lived inside her had much bigger and bleaker plans for her.

His expression changed, hardening. “Ahh, you are not her,” Corriveaux said with a brief chuckle. “I can see the difference plainly. Good evening, Lady Maia.” He bowed at his waist. “Welcome to Naess.”

“Why am I here?” she asked, trying to swallow the lump of tears in her throat.

“You are here,” he said with a tinge of malice, approaching her. “But not for very long. After your coronation as ruler of the Dochtenian Empire, you will be sailing the seas once more. We found them, you see. We found the land the mastons fled to. We knew that not all of them had returned to build abbeys, but the mastons would not reveal where their ships had sailed from. It has been a most closely guarded secret. Despite our best spies and efforts, from the use of kishions to torture, we could not learn about that hidden land. Until they revealed themselves by looking for their lost cousins.”

He sneered at the word and pinched her chin smugly. “Our way of life is well-balanced, you see. Pitting each kingdom against the other. Fomenting wars and strife, but only enough to keep the people’s small minds fixed on glory and gain. You have read the tomes, Lady Maia. You know that mastons were the ones who caused the plague that destroyed the seven kingdoms. A single, reckless young girl, over a century ago.” His face contorted with anger. “Such power cannot be trusted to mortals. No one should be allowed to choose the fate of an entire generation.”

Corriveaux wandered to a nearby table and traced his finger on the polished surface. “After many years of searching, we found the land they call Assinica. There is a great host living there, enough to tip the scales of power. They cannot be allowed to return and upset the balance. We have learned through the tomes, you see, that when mastons rule, the people die. We will not be trampled so easily.”

Maia stared at him hard. “I do not know about any of this. I was banished from my father’s court—”

“Of course you were!” Corriveaux said with a gleeful look. “Woman, we made you! You were chosen as a young girl by us, the Victus. You were our secret. You were our sign. We chose you to bring back the hetaera.” He smiled with delight at her shocked expression. “Oh, Maia, please understand! Your feelings have been manipulated since you were a small child. So have your father’s. So have your mother’s. Lady Deorwynn has been our tool since she studied in Dahomey to become a courtier. It was her duty to seduce your father and destroy his marriage. You were banished because she requested it. Men are the greatest of all fools, you see.” He smirked. “Men are corrupted by women, just as women are corrupted by gold. It has always been thus. It shall always be thus. The Victus do not fear the hetaera. We do not fear women learning how to read and engrave. On the contrary, it is a sign of great courage to go against ancient traditions. Was it not Ovidius who said that we are ever striving after what is forbidden, and coveting what is denied us? That while what is allowed us is disagreeable, what is denied us causes us intense desire? Maia, you have been crafted like the handle of this cheese knife.” He picked it up and turned it over in his hands admiringly. “You were born to become a hetaera.”