Page 130 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Chapter Eighty-Five

Valeriya

V aleriya rolled her shoulders, enjoying the unloaded weight of no longer hiding Tilan.

Marietta’s quiet rage filled the space between them as they navigated back toward the Noble’s Section.

Understandable, to say the least, though necessary.

Of all the details Valeriya hid from her, this had been the most troublesome.

If Marietta had known Tilan lived, she wouldn’t have been able to seduce Keyain.

Even now, there was a risk in showing her, knowing that Marietta would want to save her husband. She’d be a fool to not leave with her.

Her plan with Katya was simple—reveal Tilan, grab Mycaub, and meet Katya in a park a few blocks from the palace. From there, Katya knew a way to slip out of the city. After that, she didn’t know; yet, she’d take the uncertainty over Wyltam discovering the truth or bowing to Auryon in Reyila.

Never had she thought it would come to this. In her mind, she could always go home to Reyila if the situation in Satiros worsened. But not anymore.

They stopped near an intersection that would be closer for Marietta to return to her suite if she felt like being a fool.

There was nothing but damnation remaining for either of them in Satiros.

Valeriya closed her eyes, reaching out to the aithyr, pulling the energy into herself and expelling it into a dome around them.

Valeriya turned to Marietta. “Now we can talk. The barrier will keep our voices muffled as a precaution.”

Marietta’s tear-stained face shined in the glow of the light globe, her features contorted with rage. “How long did you know?”

“Marietta, I’m sorry, but we don’t have time. I need you to decide, and I hope it’s the right choice.” Valeriya sighed, taking a step towards her friend. “Will you leave with me?”

“I’m not pregnant,” Marietta said with a lethal quiet.

“I know. You should still come with me.”

“I’m not going with you,” Marietta hissed. “I don’t know if I could leave at all now.”

“Use your head.” Valeriya’s gut twisted as she repeated Wyltam’s words. “It’s only a matter of time before Satiros falls. Please, come with me.”

For a moment, Marietta only offered her scathing glare. “Did you drop off the other papers, the ones with Royir’s ledgers?”

Valeriya sighed, knowing they hadn’t much time before they’d need to leave. “Yes, I did, just last week.”

“And who did you give them to?”

“To the Exisotis, of course. Look, Marietta—”

“You’re lying.” Marietta shook her head. “You haven’t given them information in a month and a half.”

“And how would you know that?” This escape wasn’t going as she had planned.

Marietta opened her mouth to answer as a surge of energy smashed against the barrier, Valeriya gasping as the dome fell around them.

“Oh, how precious is this?” A male elf with dark skin and black hair pulled back into a tail stepped into the light.

That voice.

That face.

Valeriya’s blood pounded in her ears. He was the mage who had followed her into the garden, who she had heard in Wyltam’s office.

She squared her shoulders and bared her teeth as the heat of her rage took over.

Rage for her husband, for Auryon’s control of Reyila, and for the downfall of her legacy.

Despite her emotions, she drew the aithyr to her body and set flame to her fists. “Run, Marietta!”

Valeriya lunged at the male as Marietta turned to escape.

The male jerked his chin, and she heard Marietta fall behind her.

Valeriya shot fire from her palms, narrowing the space between her and the mage, who dodged her assault.

Releasing the aithyr from her hold, she unsheathed the knife at her hip—the one coated in magicsbane—and threw herself into the attack.

He swung a dagger, nearly slashing her face. Valeriya ducked out of the way, spinning with her arm outstretched. Just as she was to plunge into his flesh, the male released a gust of wind, and Valeriya flew backward, landing on her stomach.

Valeriya rolled into a crouching position as the mage sized her up with a smirk.

She glanced toward Marietta, gesturing for her to run again, but her legs wouldn’t move; the male’s magic held her in place.

If Valeriya could hit him hard enough, then she could break his concentration.

She launched herself at him, blade lashing out with one hand, lightning crackling in the other.

He dodged the dagger only to have his arm land in her grasp, shocking his limb.

Valeriya dug deep into the aithyr around them, screaming as she released it as magic.

The male’s body convulsed with the crackling energy, sparks lighting the surrounding hallway.

She grabbed him by his hair, ready to slice his throat, but his legs kicked out from under him and into Valeriya.

She dropped the dagger to catch herself from falling.

Adrenaline coursed through her body, aiding her to roll away as the mage lashed a whip of fire towards her. Burnt hair filled her nose as she held back her scream, the tip slicing her face. She breathed through the pain, calming herself.

Focused again, Valeriya pulled at the aithyr until her body shook with the effort of containing the magic. Fire erupted from her outstretched hands, engulfing the male. His scream carried through the passageway as the smell of burnt flesh permeated the air.

“Marietta, run!” Valeriya cried again, readying another attack. The mage attempted to summon water, his energy too low to combat the fire, let alone clear his mind under that amount of pain.

Marietta stood, stumbling backward, and took off down the hall. Good. Now she just needed to finish him, and then she could grab Mycaub and flee to the safety of Katya.

Valeriya stalked toward her attacker, the flames licking at his skin as the aithyr burned from her body.

She picked up her dagger, flicking it out, ready to plunge it into the male who enabled her husband’s reign.

A smile came to her face at the thought of magicsbane entering his bloodstream, at his struggle and fear when his aithyr would no longer reach him.

As the flames died down, the mage collapsed to the ground, panting.

“Who knew my husband had such a skilled lackey working for him.” Valeriya grabbed his singed hair, looking into his face.

He smiled as she raised the dagger. “Lackeys, actually,” he said, laughing.

Valeriya noticed them when it was too late. Two more mages were in the shadows, circling her.

Marietta. She could still escape. Valeriya rolled to the side as the other mages moved in to attack. She focused her mind, her goal clear in her head. She breathed in deeply once more, drawing the aithyr to herself. A ball of fire shot from her palms, striking the top of the hallway.

The flames lit the passageway as the fire smashed into the ceiling, the heat and energy causing the stone to explode then collapse. Now they couldn’t reach Marietta.

Hands wrapped around Valeriya as dust and rubble filled the air, a blade biting into her flesh as someone bound her wrists. She reached for her magic, but there was nothing there, the blade’s magicsbane taking hold. Her breath hitched. She jerked away from the person behind her.

“Stop struggling, Valeriya,” said a throaty voice.

She stilled, not believing who she heard. The mage came into view, her hair black and cropped short, with piercings adorning her blunted ears. “Katya?” Valeriya whispered, her head growing dizzy as she stared at the female she loved. “What are you doing here?”

Emotion rippled through Katya’s face. “I’m so sorry.”

No.

No, it was wrong.

Katya did not work for Wyltam.

A heaviness pooled in Valeriya’s stomach. “You’re supposed to be in the park. You were supposed to help me. Kat,” her voice shook, “you betrayed me.”

“No,” Katya answered, “you betrayed Satiros.”

Soft footsteps fell from the far end of the hall, slowly approaching where she knelt. With his hands tucked deep into his pockets, remaining expressionless as ever, Wyltam stalked toward her. “Hello, Valeriya.”