Page 157 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)

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. Except I 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.”

“I’ve risked my men enough. It’s time for me to get them out of danger. This isn’t my fight.”

Agrippa spit into the dirt, and Lydia looked to Killian, warning him to interfere if Agrippa lashed out. But Killian only sheathed his weapon and crossed his arms.

“A hollow excuse given all you’ve ever done is fight other people’s fights!” Agrippa snarled. “Maybe it’s time you actually pick one you believe in!”

“Maybe,” Marcus answered. “But this isn’t it. Move so I can get my men on the march and leave you to your business.”

As he spoke, Dareena stepped inside, a scowl on her face. “He’s lying. Scouts have reported that a Cel legion has joined Rufina’s ranks to bolster her defenses around that stem. This is a strategy.”

“Bullshit,” Marcus snapped, then stepped back as Dareena’s sword came to rest an inch from his neck. “All my men are in my camp.”

“Astara saw them.” Dareena’s blade edged closer to Marcus’s jugular, but he stood his ground. “A full legion of children. Sent her the most expendable ones, didn’t you?”

Anger pooled in Lydia’s chest. Rage that burned hotter and hotter even as darkness rose. “Your soul is rotten to the core.”

Dareena’s sword started to slide toward his neck, but Marcus caught the blade, blood running down his hand. “Which legion? What number do they have on their armor? What symbol?”

“Kill him,” Lydia hissed, furious that after everything, he would still stab them in the back. “Reath is better off without him in it.”

But Killian caught hold of Dareena’s wrist. “Answer his question.”

Scowling, Dareena dragged her foot in the dirt, making the Cel symbol for 51.

Marcus drew in a sharp breath. “Not possible. They are in Celendor. I sent them back myself when we were in Emrant.”

“Well, they are here now.”

His throat moved as he swallowed, his face draining of color, and unease began to cool Lydia’s wrath. Because whatever was going on was not Marcus’s plan.

“From what direction did they arrive?” he asked, staring at the mark in the dirt.

“North.” Dareena’s tone was biting. “No doubt from ships you sent behind our lines, because I don’t believe your lies.”

“No ships. The stem beneath Celendrial.” Marcus’s voice was barely audible, as though he were struggling to come to grips with this information.

“Bait told me about the path Lydia took from Celendrial to Mudaire. I kept the information from Cassius because revealing it would mean revealing Lydia lived, which came with inevitable consequences. A short-lived deception, for while I was in Revat, I received a letter from Cassius indicating he’d learned Lydia was alive.

But for the Fifty-First to have marched so far, they’d have to have traveled to Mudaire almost immediately after I sent them back to Celendor.

Which means Cassius has known that Lydia was alive, and about the xenthier, since right after I captured Emrant.

Someone must have heard my conversation with Bait and sent the information to Cassius. ”

His jaw tightened, and Lydia suspected he had an idea who the source of the information was.

“But I didn’t keep information about the blight from Cassius.

He knew Mudaire was overrun. Knew it wasn’t a viable path.

Yet he sent Fifty-First anyway. The only explanation for them joining Rufina is that he sent them with separate orders, and Nic’s pissed off enough at me that he might have agreed just for spite.

” Marcus scrubbed a hand over his hair, and it seemed to Lydia that he was talking to himself more than he was to them.

“The Fifty-First are just boys. They’re only thirteen. ”

“And that’s the oldest they’ll ever be,” a voice said.

Lydia’s eyes went to the front of the tent to find that Astara had entered, the shifter’s face drawn with exhaustion. “Those boys are all blighters. Every last one.”

Marcus didn’t move. Didn’t seem to even breathe, the only sound the dripping blood falling from his injured hand. Then he said softly, “They’re dead, then.”

“Yes,” Astara replied, even as Lydia said, “It’s possible to bring them back.”

Blue-grey eyes locked on hers. “How?”

Marcus had been her enemy for so long that telling him anything should seem like a mistake, but Lydia could feel the weight of his grief over the death of this legion.

A grief that was fueling a wrath that dwarfed anything she’d ever felt, making her want to step back from the silent ferocity of it.

“I am able to bring those lost to the blight back by pulling out the death in them and replacing it with life, but it’s impossible to do on the scale we need. ”

She grimaced and then added, “Their souls are still bound to their corpses, so they are aware of all that their bodies are being made to do. They can see everything, hear everything, but have no power over themselves.”

His eyes darkened with a mixture of anger and horror.

“The source of the blight is in the north,” Lydia continued. “In a place called Deadground. We aim to destroy the heart of the blight. I don’t know if doing so will bring back all of the fallen, but there is hope.”

“You could save the Fifty-First? You could bring them back to life?”

Lydia bit the inside of her cheeks. “I intend to try.”

“There’s a stem that leads to Deadground,” Agrippa said. “But Rufina’s camped her army right on top of it.”

The wrath didn’t diminish, but Lydia could see the wheels turning in Marcus’s eyes. A decision being made.

Then he pivoted, side stepping Dareena and going to the table that held the maps of the surrounding lands. “Where?”

Killian moved to the opposite side of the table, and a shiver ran over Lydia’s skin because two such forces should never be so close together.

Killian touched the map. “Here. It’s surrounded by a lake of blight, as well as thousands of Mudamorian blighters who will make short work of any effort to bridge the lake.

” He hesitated, then added, “If we destroy their bodies, it won’t matter if we pull the blight out of them. They’ll be lost.”

Silence filled the tent.

Lydia’s heart sank because perhaps there was no solution that wouldn’t have a horrible price. Then Marcus said, “This is what we’re going to do.”

Listening, Lydia saw why this man had come so close to conquering the world, for his strategies were a beautiful mixture of complexity and simplicity, predictable in retrospect but utterly shocking in the moment.

“Can you do it?” Marcus asked in Cel. Agrippa cast his eyes upward and then translated.

“Can you?” Killian retorted.

They glared at each other, neither bending an inch, so Lydia lifted her chin and said, “We’ll be ready.”

“I need to get back.” Marcus put the helmet that had been tucked under his arm onto his head, obscuring much of his face. “I’ll arrange to meet with her tonight.”

He turned to go, but Lydia found herself reaching for his arm, stopping him. “Is there anything you want me to tell Teriana?”

For a long time, Marcus didn’t answer, and then he finally said, “Everything that needs to be said needs to come from my lips, not through a messenger. I may never have the opportunity—your gods know I do not deserve it—but I’d rather it all go unsaid than for her to hear it from anyone but me.”

Then he was gone.

For the longest time, no one spoke, then Killian said, “Are you all right?”

Lydia was all right. In a way she hadn’t expected, and most certainly hadn’t anticipated, but beyond the hope the legions brought, there had been catharsis in facing down the fear on which all her other fears had grown. “Yes.”