The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(65)

Richard nodded sagely. “He is about thirty years old. He is short—about my own height, though more trim and fit. His eyes are blue and his hair is a cropped brown, which seems a dark gray in the light. I checked his palm for the mark and he had it. He is a maston, child. He was most ardent to see you and was able to describe you perfectly, down to the dress you wore when he found you in the avalanche.”

“So you did not tell him?” Maia asked, her heart still throbbing with anguish. “He does not know what I am?”

Richard shook his head no. “That is your secret to tell,” he replied gently. “But do not believe it will dissuade him. One of the reasons a kystrel is so dangerous is how vividly it invokes feelings. Feelings create memories, and the stronger the feeling, the deeper and more life-changing the memory. He appears to be truly besotted with you, my dear. And most enthusiastic to see you again.”

That only made it worse. A kystrel had done this to his heart. Maia had no idea what Ereshkigal had said to him while she was unconscious. What promises had been made? At the very thought, Maia’s shoulder began to burn. She realized that her suffering was drawing the Myriad Ones to her. It was opening an old wound that would fester.

Maia squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the darkness awaken inside her. Small whispers susurrated in her mind, sibilant and eager.

“I am truly sorry to be the one to bring you such ill news,” Richard said. “I wish Joanna were here. She is much better at offering comfort than I am.”

“You do well enough,” Maia said with a forced smile. No matter what complications it created for her kingdom, she would not marry this Hautlander prince—not for gold or jewels or armies. More than anything else, she wanted Collier in front of her, she wanted to be able to hold him and promise him that she would not betray him again. If they were not married in the eyes of the Dochte Mandar, then they would be married by an Aldermaston in an abbey. She would give everything, including her crown, for that privilege. Her heart throbbed with anguish.

But a new feeling smoldered in her heart. She felt the yellow, fiery glare begin to crack through the crust. The hatred she felt against Corriveaux surprised her with its intensity.

And it delighted the Myriad Ones snuffling around her on the wharf.





There is a graveyard of bones and moldering armor on the cursed shores of Dahomey. I myself have trod that unhallowed ground. There is a Leering amidst the heap. It is a stark reminder that even the dead can speak to us. They can whisper from dust. They warn us not to trod on the same path that led to their fate, that created the Void. Annihilation is the ultimate mark of failure. We will leave no living person in Comoros. The ruins will be a stark reminder to the other kingdoms that supplication is the only answer. It will be a graveyard too. And then none of the other kingdoms will dare resist the authority of the Dochte Mandar. The deaths will begin one by one, a steady drip. And then they will come as a flood.


—Corriveaux Tenir, Victus of Dahomey





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO




Queen’s Garden





Maia walked forlornly in the Queen’s Garden in Muirwood, hidden away from the prying gazes of those who would seek her out. The sun had just risen, and her stomach growled for breakfast, but she walked amidst the rows of flowers and fruit trees, watching the buds begin to open to the light.

After the dreadful news from Richard, she had summoned Simon in the hope she could confer with him before leaving for Muirwood, but he had not come. She stopped by one of the benches where she and Collier had spent time together. A pang of wistfulness struck her heart. She wished there were a way to summon him, to draw him from the battlefields of Dahomey to join her in this quiet garden. A few birds trilled from the upper branches, their tiny bodies and fluttering wings the only noise, and the perfume from the flowers lifted her spirits. She made a mental note to thank the old gardener Thewliss for his patient care of this secret place. A feeling of dread waited beyond these walls, as she knew she would need to return to the city to face her would-be suitor. And she would need to do so with a calm mind and a sturdy heart.

The familiar squeaking of wheels on axles sounded from beyond the wall, and Maia walked over to the Leering that protected the door and invoked it. After opening it, she saw Thewliss tugging the cart and greeted him with a smile. But over his shoulder, Maia saw an approaching figure—Suzenne, her shoulders swathed in a shawl, a look of determination and worry on her face. Her friend would not have sought her out here unless something important had happened, and Maia felt a swell of panic as she left the arch of the garden door and met her friend on the lawn.

“What has happened?” Maia said, reaching out and seizing her friend’s arm.

Suzenne looked stricken. She blinked rapidly, clearly trying to calm herself before speaking. “The chancellor sent me right away. Maia,” she shook her head. “Simon was murdered.”

A pit of pain opened in Maia’s stomach. “Simon Fox?”

“Yes,” Suzenne said in a shaky voice. “He was discovered before dawn. There was no sign of a struggle. He was stabbed in the back, crippled, and then left to bleed to death from a cut on his throat.” She covered her mouth, her face growing white.

Maia’s heart hammered in her chest and dizziness overtook her body as she imagined the scene. “Sweet Idumea.”