Page 140 of A Queen’s Game (Aithyr Uprising #1)

Chapter Ninety-Five

Marietta

T he darkness held her vision as the needle pricked along her side. The stinging, unbearable at first, gave way to peace. Though it was excruciating, the pain would fade, but only if she learned to accept it.

So Marietta did; the needle stabbed into her flesh, and she would take a deep breath, over and over until the pricking ceased.

Marietta woke as Nosokyma spoke again. “Hear us, Therypon, she who heals the world, she who brings pain onto us. Deity of Duality, she of healing and pain. Hear your chosen and most faithful, the Iros. Together, we complete the cycle. Therypon brought her pain onto us, her guardians, and now through us bestows her healing.” Her voice cried out, arms splayed, head tilted back.

The other attendants stood, approaching the altar with their glazed eyes, reaching their hands over Marietta’s naked body. Their hands hovered over her, and they chanted, “Through Therypon, all pain can be healed.”

A flash of white extended from their hands, bathing her body in the bright light. Her pain ebbed away. Familiar warmth brought her comfort. Even the skin she bit through on her lip healed. The attendants backed away as Nosokyma yelled, “Rise, Marietta, guardian of Therypon, member of her Iros!”

Marietta lifted herself, coming to a seated position.

The tattoo on her side extended from her hip, around her breast, and up onto her neck.

Inked onto her were two intertwined snakes through a lattice of Xs.

Despite the freshness of the tattoo, the skin healed enough that there was no pain; Marietta ran her fingers over it.

An elven woman brought over a blue robe to place over her. Marietta looked to Coryn, who averted his eyes as she covered herself.

Marietta held out her hands, noticing the warmth in her chest that crackled with energy under her skin. She called it forth, reaching towards the warmth like she would when she prayed, and bright light extended from her fingertips.

“Peculiar,” Nosokyma said, her lined face smiling. “You’re already attuned to the goddess’s powers. I recommend not using them until you have proper training. Coryn has already volunteered to be your mentor.” She nodded at Coryn, who approached.

His warm smile greeted her. “How do you feel?”

“Strange. The same, but different. Like there’s energy right under my skin,” Marietta held out her hands again as she spoke.

“That’s the power she bestows on us. When we reach Enomenos, we can start your training,” he said with a frown. “We’ll grab attendant’s clothes for you to wear on our way downstairs.”

Her stomach dropped. “I thought if I became an Iros, we would flee to Enomenos.”

“That was before Keyain followed you here, before he had every exit watched with more than a dozen soldiers each.” He placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of the room. “The King’s summons came with an arrest for treason against Satiros.”

“But the temple still has me claimed, right? So they can’t hurt me?” Marietta flexed her hands, not used to the energy crackling under her skin.

“Not without starting a riot in the street, more so than what’s already out there. Many in Satiros follow the gods, and King Wyltam wouldn’t dare cross that line. At least not when he’s warring with Enomenos. He’ll need to keep the peace at home.”

Marietta nodded. It was the confirmation she needed. She could head back with Keyain to the palace, and with her new powers, she would free Tilan.

Keyain paced in the antechamber, wearing metal plate armor of Satiroan green marked with the wisteria crest. “The King’s summons came five hours ago. I won’t ask again,” he growled. “Where is Marietta?”

The doorway to the front framed Keyain, making him glow in the dim of the interior.

His back-lit silhouette was ominous, with the cacophony of voices beyond.

Ambient calls carried up the temple steps, echoing in the temple.

Some chanted; others yelled. All Marietta could discern was the unrest in their tones.

Coryn leaned closer to her. “You must leave with Keyain,” he murmured in her ear as they approached, “but they can’t lay a hand on you now without serious consideration. Nosokyma will petition on your behalf, but we don’t know how long that will take.”

They paused at the precipice of the antechamber, hidden by the hall’s shadows. In front of them stood a line of Therypon’s attendants, adorned in armor and brandishing their swords.

“No matter what happens, we’ll be there to support you.” Coryn wrapped his arms around Marietta, pulling her close. “May Therypon guide your way.”

“Thank you,” she whispered into his chest, surprised at the lack of fear in her voice. “For everything you have done and what you have yet to do.” She stepped back with her hand clasped in his. Coryn smiled, a hint of his dimple showing, and she nodded her head.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Coryn said, stepping into the light. The attendants stepped aside, letting Coryn stand among their ranks. Marietta remained hidden, waiting for him to call her.

Keyain’s head whipped to Coryn at the sound of his voice. “Where is she?” he ground out, taking a step forward.

“Where is who, Minister Keyain?” Coryn asked with mocking confusion.

“I don’t have time for this bullshit.” Keyain stomped forward, and the attendants raised their weapons.

“Of course, you’re a busy male,” Coryn said. “If you state your business, then we can send you on your way.”

Keyain stepped close to him, his jaw tight and his chest heaving. “Where is Marietta?”

“Ah, that’s why you’re here.”

Keyain took a steadying breath as his face slipped into a sneer. Of course, Coryn was taunting him. Marietta felt nervousness pull at her stomach as she watched Keyain’s mood further deteriorate.

“King Wyltam summoned Marietta Vallynte to the palace,” Keyain continued. “And I came to escort her.”

“You talk as if she doesn’t share your last name,” Coryn said with furrowed brows. “Is she not your wife?”

“Yes, she’s my wife,” Keyain snapped.

Coryn looked over his shoulder at Marietta, beckoning her forward. “You best remember that as you march her to her demise.”

Marietta approached his side, wearing the bright blue uniform of Therypon. Coryn placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

Keyain’s sneer dropped, his jaw slacking. He stared at her neck, the twin snakeheads that now climbed up her skin. With a heavy breath, he stared at her as if she were a ghost, at a loss for words.

“Marietta Vallynte, newest to the ranks of Therypon’s Iros,” Coryn announced. “Goddess-chosen and protected by the divine.”

The attendants of the blockade dropped back their heads, their faces turning towards the ceiling. “Goddess, bless those who brandish your mark,” they murmured in unison.

Keyain shook his head, scrubbing his face. “You’ve ruined her.”

“Says the male who upended her life and put her in this position.” Coryn’s hand fell from her shoulder. “You chose to wed Marietta and to bring her Satiros. All the blame falls to your shoulders.”

Keyain’s features twisted with rage. “You—”

“Enough,” Marietta called out, her voice ringing in the antechamber.

Keyain’s words died on his lips as Marietta stepped toward him, staring into his face.

“What did you do?” he whispered, his breaths sharp.

Marietta lifted her chin higher, looking at Keyain from head to toe. “I saved myself.”

She walked straight past him, not sparing him a glance even as he spoke. “Marietta Vallynte, on behalf of his majesty, King Wyltam, I take you into custody for conspiracy of treason, acts of treason, and failure to follow legal protocol.”

“We’ll see you soon, Marietta,” Coryn called out behind her.

Marietta smiled at his words. Coryn would help her—Deania would help her. They wouldn’t let them execute Marietta. The goddess would intervene.

Or, at least, she would intervene long enough for Marietta to reach Tilan, to free him. The energy crackled under her skin. Such power felt natural, as if it belonged within her, and with it she could give Tilan a chance to escape.

Marietta stepped onto the temple’s front steps, gasping at the sight before her. Therypon’s hoplite soldiers lined the front, spears held out with their shields raised, forming a barrier. Two stepped aside as she walked through, emerging to the chaos below them.

The citizens of Satiros packed the square, people standing shoulder to shoulder, yelling and shaking their fists. Some wore the colors of the temples, but many dressed in standard garb. A few groups were pushing against the guards who blocked the bottom of the temple stairs.

Dressed in similar armor to Keyain, the soldiers at the top of the stairs surrounded Marietta as she made her descent.

Helmeted with heavy swords in their grasps, they were menacing.

Gone was the leather armor suitable for everyday wear.

Instead, they were equipped for battle. Keyain joined her, his hand gripping just above her elbow.

At the bottom, the crowd parted for their group as they entered the chaos. No carriage awaited for them, the masses too dense for vehicles.

Many called out Marietta’s name. Others sent their prayers to Therypon. Marietta turned to them and offered a genuine smile, locking eyes with a young half-elven girl who pushed her way to the front, eyes watering as she looked up at Marietta with an enormous smile on her face.

Keyain noted the attention and whispered, “Don’t. You’ll incite a riot.”

“Stop, Keyain.” Marietta tried to pull her arm from his grasp.

“Let her go!” someone yelled, causing a murmur to ripple across.

Keyain gripped her tighter, his breath quickening as he looked out over the masses. Lines bracketed his mouth as the crowd pressed closer. “For once, please listen to me.”

Marietta pulled away again. “I did nothing but protect myself from you,” she yelled, letting her voice carry. For all he did, Marietta would never go willingly.

A few men from the crowd pushed against the guards. “Let her go, you bastards!” one cried.

A guard hit the man on top of his head with his sword’s pommel, dropping him to the ground.

“Stop,” Keyain ordered. “We do not hit civilians.”

The crowd pressed in around them, voices yelling, swallowing Keyain’s commands. “It’s either us or them, Keyain,” a guard called back.

“I said, we do not—”

The crowd erupted around them, surging into the circle, pressing the guards close to Marietta and Keyain at the center.

“Form a barrier. Protect Marietta!” Keyain ordered his soldiers, who exchanged nervous glances before swinging at the civilians.

Keyain swore as the horror unfolded around them.

Their swords cut through men and women alike, slicing through them like a hot knife through butter, clothing being the civilians’ only protection.

A man charged forward, screaming her name, only for a sword to connect with his neck. Hot beads of blood splattered across Marietta’s face. More guards joined the circle, moving them through the mob of people.

“Stop!” Marietta screamed. They were dying because of her. “Please, stop!” She jerked away from Keyain to pull a soldier off a young half-elven man.

“Marietta, don’t,” Keyain pleaded, pulling her back as the sword connected with the man’s neck, severing his head from his body. Frozen in his lips was her name, his head dropping to the cobblestone.

She shrieked as tears flowed down her cheeks. “Please, stop!”

Keyain grabbed Marietta, throwing her over his shoulder as a pile of bodies and a stream of blood trailed behind them. Her voice turned hoarse, but she continued to yell as Keyain carried her away.

Through the noise of the crowd, Keyain screamed at his soldiers to deal non-lethal blows. Blood continued to spill; the bodies kept falling.

For a moment, the crowd parted, and Marietta saw a tall, broad man of olive skin, a beard thick on his face as dark hair fell into his eyes as he slid a sword from a guard’s body. His gaze locked with Marietta, and her heart stopped—Pelok.

“Tilan’s alive!” she screamed, clawing at Keyain’s back.

“Marietta!” Keyain yelled, holding her tighter. “Stay still, for the love of fuck.” Panic gripped his voice as the guards pushed in closer around them.

In the distance, bells started tolling.

“He’s alive! Tilan’s alive!” she screamed again, hoping her voice carried over the commotion of the crowd.

Pelok gawked at her as the crowd swallowed him whole.