Page 274 of Scorched Earth

“Then you talk to me,” Killian said. “You don’t get to speak to her after what you did.”

“I’m not in the habit of negotiating with the second-in-command,” Marcus answered. “I will speak with your queen, or I will speak to no one. I would say the choice is, once again, yours, Calorian, but if you respect your queen’s authority, the choice ishers.”

Every part of Lydia wanted to run from this conversation, terror twisting her stomach into ropes and binding her chest like a vise. Logically, she knew that made no sense. Marcus was mortal, unarmed, and would not win in a fight against Killian. Would not win in a fight againsther. Yet Lydia couldn’t make herself answer. Could only stand in place, trembling. Because it wasn’t Marcus she feared, but rather what he represented.

Her helplessness.

Her weakness.

Despite everything that had happened since, Lydia once again felt like the girl she’d been in the baths. A pawn used by Cassius, then discarded, ineffectual in all her attempts to defend herself.

The only thing that still burned in defiance was her anger. It was no longer anger at herself, but anger at those who used their power to cause terror in others.

In three steps she knew were so quick she’d seem a blur to him,Lydia closed one hand around his neck, her dark half latching upon his life. With her free hand, she pushed Killian back, because this was her fight. Not his.

“I’m not the girl you tried to drown in a bath any longer, Legatus,” she said softly. “I’m no longer weak. No longer defenseless. So show care with what you say, or this breath will be your last.”

Marcus’s pulse remained steady beneath her grip as his eyes locked on hers. “You were never weak.”

She blinked, his words not what she’d expected.

“Weakness is giving up. You fought to the bitter end and beyond,” he said. “The gods of this land might have made you physically stronger, but the will to fight was always there.”

Vaguely she knew they were speaking in Cel and that Agrippa was softly translating for the others, but her focus was entirely on this conversation. This moment.

“I’m sorry for what I did to you,” he said. “Cassius was blackmailing me. Threatening both my family and my legion if I didn’t do what he wanted. I chose them over you but regretted it immediately. Regretted it even more when I found out what you meant to Teriana.” Marcus’s voice caught on her friend’s name, and for the first time, his pulse sped beneath her grip. “But Cassius’s blackmail remained, so I again chose my family over you rather than seeing him punished. Time and again, I’ve chosen my family, my legion, and myself over the justice you deserved, and that is not a reflection of your worth—it’s a reflection of my weakness. A weakness that caused my regret to turn to blame for a time. A weakness that remains, in part, because despite all that I’ve said, you’re not the reason I’m here.”

Lydia let go of Marcus’s throat—and his life—and lowered her arm to her side. “Why, then?”

He gave a small smile. “To be frank, it’s because Teriana kicked me in the balls.” His smile grew. “The entire Empire in the balls, I think, though her actions have ensured I can’t confirm that.” Rather than angry, he sounded almost delighted, and Lydia’s shock over that overwhelmed her relief that her friend had succeeded where so many had failed.

“Teriana, and those she’s brought to her cause, have destroyed the xenthier paths supplying my legions, as well as those that would have allowed us to retreat.” Marcus rubbed at one temple as though it pained him. “The only path is forward. One option is to defeat your army, claim Serlania, and make use of its resources. ExceptI have a great deal of uncertainty about how long those resources would continue with Rufina’s last obstacle removed.”

“Is Rufina your enemy?” Lydia asked. “Because there have been many times where you two have seemed very much allies, if only because the enemy of your enemy is your friend.”

Marcus was silent, and he finally said, “I think for a time that we were united in our goals.”

“The Corrupter’s goals.”

“I don’t think I’m that easily absolved.” He shook his head. Lydia could feel his grief, his guilt, so it was no surprise when he said, “There are a hundred good reasons that should have driven me to this conversation, but it’s because of my men that I’m here. I have a duty to protect them, and instead I’ve put their lives in jeopardy. Which is why I’m offering you a deal.”

“What do you want?” she asked. “And what are you offering in return?”

He removed a folded piece of paper from his belt pouch, then smoothed it on the table. “Rufina’s agent gave me a map of all the xenthier stems she’s mapped, but none of them go east.” He was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Bait told me that the xenthier beneath the baths in Celendrial brought you to Mudaire. Xenthier always has a mate; it’s just a matter of finding it. I think you know where it is—the route back to Celendor. Tell me where it is, and once I’ve proven it’s good, we’ll go home.”

This felt too easy. “And if I refuse?”

Marcus met her gaze unblinking, not bothering to voice the obvious threat.

“It’s beneath the palace in Mudaire,” she said. “In the tunnels. The terminus is near Celendrial. It’s how I was brought to Celendor when I was a child.”

“Then we will head north.” He started to lift his helmet to put it back on, but then paused. “I don’t think I need to explain what will happen if I discover that path is not good.”

This time, it was Lydia who didn’t blink.

The corner of Marcus’s mouth turned up. “Good luck in your fight against Rufina.”

He moved to go, but Agrippa stepped in his path. “You could help us,” he said. “Do the right thing for once.”