Page 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

M aia’s voice hadn’t stopped echoing around Isak’s head all morning.

You don’t know how it feels to be near the saints, all that horrific power, the pressure, the screaming inside your own mind.

The trouble with that, of course, was that he did know.

“Change of plans,” he told Viskae, Anzhelika, and Sunny as the latter put a heaping plate of eggs, bread, and rice in front of him. The mated couple had no idea the saint of mistakes and redemption was listening, of course. “I don’t have as much time as I’d hoped, so just scouting the Nysavion Hold won’t be enough.”

“You want to get inside today,” Anzhelika guessed. She looked a lot less scary in the morning, which Isak found charming and fun. Her inky hair was pulled into a catastrophic knot on the top of her head, her pale face had pillow creases, and she wore a ratty grey shirt with embroidered flowers around the collar he was pretty sure had belonged to Sunny at one point. In contrast, her wife and mate was every bit as put-together as she’d been last night. Her braids were gathered into a tidy ponytail, her purple dress immaculate, and her bark-like skin practically glowed.

Isak had a sudden and violent urge to see Maia in the morning, to know if her hair was a riot like Anzhelika’s, to know if she was affectionate when half-awake or grouchy until she’d eaten breakfast.

“I want to get inside,” he confirmed, and ignored the tightness of his voice.

“That’s a nice delusion, dear,” Sunny remarked, sliding gracefully into the seat beside Anzhelika and giving Isak’s food a pointed look as she tucked into her own overflowing plate.

Isak returned a dry look and helped himself to the rice, unsurprised when it was the most flavourful thing he’d eaten in years. Maybe ever. Sunny was exactly the sort of person to excel at everything. “I don’t know what’s happening to my brother and the others, but Maia…”

You never told me your darkest desire, North.

Freedom. I just want to be free.

“She’s in a bad way. She’s losing hope, and when that happens, she’ll stop fighting. But she can’t stop fighting these assholes, or they’ll erase everything she is.”

“You’re talking from experience,” Anzhelika noted, sipping something hot and bitter.

“I might have spent some time as their captive,” he said carefully, filling his mouth with eggs so he could figure out how to explain it all without telling them about saints and reincarnation and whatever the fuck the box Viskae was so obsessed with was.

Our only chance at salvation, she said, which was about what she’d told him so far, and little else.

“I know exactly what they’re capable of,” he finished after a moment. “It’s like being in the chasm, complete with pain, darkness, and eternal suffering.”

Sunny grabbed for her mate’s hand, squeezing tight. “How are you going to get her back?”

“I haven’t planned that far ahead, but I know the bastards who took her are looking for a box, made of gold and covered in carvings. They had half the Vassalian army out looking for it.”

“The Vassalian army,” Anzhelika repeated, her eyes a little clearer as they narrowed. “Just who are you, Isak?”

“Honestly? I don’t even know anymore,” he said with a laugh, but he realised it was just a sad statement, not a joke, and stopped laughing after an awkward moment. “Remind me again, what are Sainsan’s attitudes towards beastkind?”

“Nothing like Vassal’s,” Sunny spat, a bit of steel coming through her sweetness. “Here, they are equal.”

“No indentures?”

She sighed, her eyes downcast. “Some of the old towns still have them, but there have been laws in Saintsgarde for years abolishing them. Every year people campaign for them to become illegal in the outer towns.”

“Good,” Isak said fiercely, baring sharp canines he hadn’t technically possessed months ago. “Because I’m beastkind, and so is my brother. I just wanted to check some dumb fuck wasn’t going to slap a cuff on me when I break into the Hold.”

It wouldn’t take him down for long, but it would be a serious pain in the ass and Isak didn’t have the time to spare.

I just want to be free.

He’d managed to convince himself he’d come to Saintsgarde in search of that box for Jaro’s sake, but like all lies they finally came to light. It was for Jaro and Maia, both of them equal in his motivation. Especially after that dream.

“The people who have your mate,” Sunny murmured, her fingers white-knuckling her wife’s hand. “By any chance are they the ones responsible for this?”

With her other hand she snagged a newspaper off a nearby counter, this one printed in purple ink rather than the black of Vassal and Venhaus.

“Ah, shit,” Isak sighed, taking the paper from her and stretching it across a spare bit of the dining table. He ignored the good news story on the cover and opened it to the second and third, where a huge artist’s rendition of the Saintlands sprawled. No number of stories about cute puppies and good Samaritans would make this easier to swallow.

It took him another few seconds to get the last newspaper from his bag, and while he was at it he took out three others, lining them up, charting the rapid spread of red from the Vassal Empire, through Lower Aether, Venhaus, and now staining the very tip of the land bridge that connected to Upper Aether, as he’d suspected would happen.

“Marszton is surrounded on all sides,” he murmured, not surprised. It was the last bastion of Aethean strength; of course Vassal’s bitch queen would want to conquer it.

“They say it’s Vassal soldiers, but I’m not stupid. No army conquers this quickly,” Anzhelika said, leaning over to inspect the papers he’d brought with him. His bag was full of them.

“No,” he agreed. Invasions like this took decades. “This is old, dark magic.”

“Son of a goat fucker,” Anzhelika hissed, snatching the newest paper from him. “They got Kraeva too? How the fuck did they get up to Jakahr?”

“Marched through Venhaus?” Isak guessed, looking at the new country to be conquered. “Or maybe she filed all her soldiers onto a ship, who knows?” But that was a whole new kingdom invaded, where dark, twisted saint magic spread through it.

It’s advancing faster than I expected, Viskae said uneasily. Within a fortnight there’ll be nowhere left in the whole Saintlands that’s safe.

Yeah, Isak was beginning to think that.

“We’re surrounded,” Anzhelika murmured, putting the paper back down so they could see the horrifying spread of red across the continent. “They’ll come through the Aethers to Sainsa.”

“We could flee into Felis,” Sunny suggested, frowning at the map. “They haven’t reached there yet.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” Isak said, dragging a hand through his hair. Shit. Having all this resting on him was a little too much fucking pressure. An old box and a saint of mistakes against the end of the known world. It was a joke. “V’haiv would be a smarter choice.” The saints had never quite conquered that kingdom before.

“Will you come with us, if we run?” Sunny asked, concern knotting her dark brow.

He shook his head. “I’ve been a coward most of my life. I might as well die doing something brave.” He cracked a grin. “Give people something to write ballads and legends about.”

He shovelled the last of his food into his mouth because 1) he’d struggled for food for too long to waste it and 2) one couldn’t expect to break into a fortress stronghold on an empty stomach. And then he stood, packing the newspapers back into his bag. He left the newest one on the table; stealing from friends was bad manners. “I’ll leave this here today, is that alright?”

“It’s a single bag,” Anzhelika drawled. “I doubt the clutter will kill us.”

Isak rolled his eyes, grabbing his coat off the back of the sofa. “Well, I’d better be off. Holds to storm, boxes to find, maidens to rescue. You know how it is.”

“You’re not going alone,” Anzhelika huffed, rising too. “Wait here, I’ll get dressed.” When he opened his mouth to argue, she spoke over him. “Unless you know some martial art shit with that cane, you should be accompanied by someone who knows how to use a weapon. Only dumbasses commit heists without a sword.”

She had a point. He knew how to wield several weapons thanks to his training, but he wasn’t exactly in possession of any. Unless you counted the darkness within him.

“Well, if you insist,” Isak agreed because he’d appreciate backup, or at the very least someone to witness the spectacular death he was destined for.

Wow, Viskae remarked. A spectacular death? That’s ambitious. Judging by the rest of your life, I’d expect a mediocre one.

Don’t be a dick, Isak retorted. It doesn’t become you.

“Doesn’t this seem a little odd to you?” Sunny asked, still sitting at the table, her expression open and curious. Isak tried not to resent her but it was clear she’d never known suffering a day in her life. Not the way he’d become so well acquainted with it, he could call pain a lover.

“What?” he and Anzhelika asked at the same time, both of them turning back to the table to peer at whatever Sunny had seen.

“Look. Vassal. Venhaus. Jakahr. Lower Aether. All the conquered areas are right by saint circles.”

Isak remembered the sickly wrongness that had seeped from the circle in Venhaus and shuddered. Remembered how he marched people onto the island and slit their throats over a stone slab. He turned away, a shaky hand over his mouth.

He’d seen the spread of the army conquering land and hadn’t considered that the saints now had access to more than one circle. All the things they’d done with a single circle…

Or had they always had access to the circle at Thelleus; had Queen Ismene given them that one first?

If they’d had two before, they now had four.

“Not to be completely alarming,” Anzhelika said with a little laugh, using a sharp fingernail to draw a connecting line from one saints' circle to the next. “But don’t these things form a circle across the Saintlands?”

Isak stared, cold crawling across his shoulders, and he realised this was bigger than him. A circle formed of ancient stone formations. A circle of circles.

“Shit,” he breathed, turning back to the table, letting his eyes skim across the map. “They’ll come for the others. They want to complete the circle.”

Felis would be next, and then they’d come for the circle on the border of Sainsa, V’haiv, and Aether. Those countries, too, would be overcome, conquered by the saints who’d cut Isak apart and turned him into a monster.

He rushed from the room, collapsing to his knees in front of the chamber pot in the bathing room. Everything he’d eaten forced itself from his stomach, leaving him weak and shaky. He retched, over and over, his hands trembling.

“Here, Isak,” Sunny’s gentle voice made him jump. He gratefully accepted the glass of water and startled again when she laid a cloth damp with cold water across his brow. It helped instantly with the nausea. “I think you should come with us to V’haiv. Or maybe we’ll cross the ocean to another continent.”

“They’re not even mapped,” he said with a rusty laugh. “You could end up anywhere. It could be a land ruled by peacocks.”

“Well, then you’ll fit in just fine,” she said with a soft, teasing lilt that made him miss his mother with a sudden fierceness. He missed Jaro too, remembered the days they’d fallen asleep clinging to each other for warmth and comfort.

“So will your mate,” he said in a passing attempt at humour.

“Fit in among them?” Sunny’s mouth curled, wry. “Give her a week and she’ll be the queen of peacocks.”

Isak laughed. It hurt, his throat burned by his own stomach acid, but he laughed. “Thank you.”

She patted his shoulder. “I can’t imagine the turmoil of having your mate missing. I wouldn’t know how to cope if I lost Anzhelika.”

Guilt burned as badly as the acid in his stomach. “Sunny, I—” He rubbed the cold cloth over his face, hiding from her. A coward through and through. “I misled you about Maia. She is my mate, but we’re not even together. I was a dick to her every time we met. To tell you the truth, I don’t think she even likes me.” His laugh was bitter and wretched. “It feels wrong to ask you to help me, like she’s this great love I’ve lost when she can’t stand the sight of me.”

He expected Sunny to leave him there in the cold bathroom but she just sighed and said, “I think in some ways that makes it harder.”

He tipped his head back to look at her, a lock of wavy hair falling from the knot on the back of his head. He met her kind eyes and didn’t know what to say.

“Not only have you lost your soulmate, but you haven’t settled the bond. No wonder you’re in such pain. Your soul must be tearing itself apart to get to her.”

That summed it up pretty well. Isak loosed a great sigh and rinsed the taste of vomit from his mouth. “Yeah,” he rasped. “So you’re not pissed I exaggerated my relationship with Maia?”

Sunny laughed, a soft whisper of a sound, her eyes crinkling. “Isak, she’s part of your soul and you are part of hers. That doesn’t change if you’re realms apart, if you never meet, or even if you hate each other—nothing could ever change it. She’s your mate, and the thought of losing my mate is so abhorrent that of course I’ll help you save yours. Then, when you have her back, you can go about earning her forgiveness for being a dick.”

Isak laughed, less rusty this time. “That’s the plan.”

It hadn’t been until the dream, until he’d sat beside Maia and heard her say in that hopeless, bereft tone that all she wanted was to be free. It had triggered something in him, awoken a part of him he’d been trying to bury. Now, it was awake and there was no knocking it back out. She was his mate, and he was supposed to protect her, care for her, keep her happy and provided for and safe. It was in his blood and bones, as much a part of him as shifting.

“Come on,” Sunny murmured, standing, patting his shoulder. “I’ll make you ginger tea. It’ll settle your stomach. You can’t break into the Nysavion Hold with an upset stomach.”

He got up with a groan—and gasped, jerking back when the bathroom flashed around him for a second, overlapped with a cobbled street lined with precariously balanced, multi-storey buildings. The scent of salt, fish, and blood hung in the air, so thick he could taste it. And just ahead of him, Bryon stood holding a golden sword, testing its heft and weight in his broad hand.

“Isak!” Sunny exclaimed, grasping his shoulders. The vision disintegrated like smoke scattered by a hand. “What happened?”

He shook his head, his breathing faster. “I don’t know.”