Page 239 of Scorched Earth

Defeating the Corrupter’s hold on them was no easier than it had been with Finn. Like being thrown into a fighting pit and battling for her life each time, every second agonizing. Each victory ecstasy.

She slumped against Killian, breathing hard even as she heard the shouts rising in the neighboring buildings, which had shuddered each time she’d knocked back the Corrupter. The two children were alive, but both wept in Finn’s arms.

“We need to go,” Killian whispered. “Soldiers will be coming to investigate. And not all the blighters are children—some are a much greater threat, and Rufina will have them hunting us.”

He handed something to Finn. “You know where my house in Serlania is? Take them there. I’ll arrange for provisions. Go!”

Finn took hold of both children’s hands and they bolted into the night.

“Can you run?” Killian asked.

“Yes.”

He caught hold of her hand and led her at a sprint through the alleys of the city, away from the rising commotion. Away from those who sought their death.

And Lydia had never felt more alive.

As Killian drew to a walk in a mercifully empty alley, both of them breathing hard, Lydia wrapped her arms around his neck. “Kiss me.”

He was already moving. Lifting her even as his lips claimed her, and Lydia wrapped her legs around his waist as her back pressed against the wall. Tonight was what she’d needed. A visceral reminder of the truth that had always burned in her heart: They were united and nothing in this world would ever pull them apart.

No words were needed, only breath and touch as he slid her skirt up to her waist, weapons falling to the ground with a clatter as she unfastened his belt. He claimed her, promising her with his body that she would always be his. That he would always be hers.

And as the first hint of dawn warmed the midnight skies, they held each other close. Not in the luxury and safety of a High Lord’s manor but in the gritty danger of the streets, the lives of all those they’d both sworn to protect drifting around them.

“It’s better if they think we are at odds,” he whispered against her throat. “Then they won’t question our intent.”

“By day, we are separate.” She could barely get the words out, pleasure still rolling over her body.

“But after sunset, you are my mine.” Killian’s grip on her tightened. “We’ll go to war every night to reclaim those stolen from us, and after every victory—”

“—I will have you,” she finished for him. “Every night, for as many nights as we have left.”

Because the front lines were not just before Teriana’s ships or Dareena’s dams. For Lydia and Killian, the front lines were here.

92MARCUS

Marcus stood on the main level of Revat’s library, the upper half of the tower missing as though a god had cleaved it away. It had been one of the falling god towers that had done the damage, but the impression remained as he allowed the falling rain to patter against his upturned face.

“We wish to bring everything back to Celendrial with all haste,” the man standing at his left said. Marcus couldn’t remember his name and didn’t really care to learn it. Just one more administrator that the Senate had sent to begin the process of wrapping Gamdesh into the Empire’s fold.

“If you would allocate a number of your men to aid in the packing of the crates, Legatus,” the man said, lip curled as he surveyed the mess. “We need to move with all speed given the damage to the structure, else we risk losing valuable material to mold.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. My men are forbidden from pillaging.”

“This is not pillaging, Legatus! This is—” The man broke off as Marcus turned his head to look at him. “I understand. I’ll make arrangements with the collegium to secure more appropriate resources for the undertaking.”

Marcus was already walking toward the stairs. He’d always had a fondness for libraries—for old books, in particular—and seeing the disarray in the shelves created within him an overwhelming urge to organize. Many of the books were destroyed beyond repair, ruinedeither by falling shelves or by water, and he wondered how much knowledge had been lost forever.

You did this.The words drifted over the walls in his mind.Every loss Gamdesh has suffered, and will suffer, is on your hands.

It had occurred to him more than once that he was losing his mind. That it was not right to argue with the voices in one’s own head, and Marcus supposed it was an inevitable consequence of all the xenthier stems that Racker had warned him about. Something in his mind had been cracked. Broken beyond repair. That was why he heard the voices. That was why he felt as he did.

Which was to say, felt very little at all.

Marcus climbed the circular stairs and roamed the floors, Gibzen and the rest of his bodyguards trailing after him. Rastag had looked at the building and declared that it couldn’t be repaired, for the foundation was cracked beyond repair. Once it had been emptied, they’d collapse it. Yet another monument lost forever.

Because of you.