Page 60 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)

As she dressed in the loose trousers and tunic made of linen that had been left for her use, Lydia put her mind to all she’d learned in the space of a day that could change everything.

They finally had proof of their suspicions that Malahi had the power to drive back the blight, if not exact answers as to how.

Yet the knowledge that it had been done before, along with how aggressively Rufina had first tried to corrupt Malahi and then fought to get her back, was a glowing beacon of hope where once there’d been only a candle.

Lydia pulled on her worn boots and then went to the door.

The corridor was empty. Baird’s snoring emanated from the room down the hall, along with the faint howling of the wind outside the thick sandstone of the palace, but she heard no other sign of other people.

Lydia felt an abrupt sense of claustrophobia, knowing they were trapped inside the building for some time, at least according to Baird.

She brushed away the sensation and tentatively knocked on the door to the room shared by her other two companions.

“Who is it?” Agrippa asked from the far side.

“Lydia.”

The door cracked and the ex-legionnaire peeked through, what looked like a candlestick held in one of his hands.

Seemingly satisfied, he opened the door and stepped out, closing it most of the way behind him.

“She’s asleep,” he said in Cel, showing no discomfort about his shirtless state, the 37 tattoo on his chest black against his golden-brown skin. “Where’s Killian?”

“He went to talk to Xadrian. Is Malahi well?” She answered in Cel too, in case anyone was listening to them.

Agrippa scrubbed a hand through his brown hair, then shook his head. “Worried. I think it’s safe to say that tenders have the power to cure the blight, but she has no idea how to do it, as her previous attempt yielded nothing. There’s always trial and error, but that takes time we don’t have.”

“And you’re worried that she’ll be harmed in the process?”

He eyed her for a long moment, the intelligence that he usually hid behind sarcasm, insults, and jokes peeking out.

“Yeah. Malahi says that the blight can’t harm the marked, but…

” He shrugged. “She says the library in Revat has the largest and oldest collection of books in the West, so it might have answers. But having done my own fair share of library research while at Lescendor, that’s going to take time, even if the Gamdeshians help. Needle in the haystack, and all that.”

“You have a better idea?” she asked, the visual of him sitting in a library doing research odd to her even though she knew all legionnaires received more education than just how to kill.

“No. Those are the two options; I’m just acknowledging that both are shitty and that the odds are not in our favor.” He gave a soft laugh as she scowled at him. “You’re far too easy to provoke, Lydia. You really need to work on that if you want to be my friend.”

“I don’t.” She crossed her arms. “And I didn’t come here to hear your opinions on my character.”

“I’m not waking up Malahi. She’s exhausted.”

“I’m here to talk to you. Specifically, about how for a moment in time, you looked around ninety years old and ready to breathe your last, and I was able to return you to a man of…”

“Twenty years,” he supplied. “Thank you for that, by the way. For all my grand speech, I’m not actually looking to die right now.

I’ve a fair bit to live for.” He glanced back into the room, then his eyes returned to Lydia’s.

“Ceenah seemed a bit put out to be referred to as corrupted, though they are the only ones I’ve ever seen use their marks to both heal and kill.

And when they did heal, it was never their own lives that they used.

They always took from someone else. Rufina forbade the practice. ”

Lydia perked up at that reminder, because Derin’s queen did little without reason. “Did she give a reason why?”

“She wasn’t in the habit of explaining herself, but I always figured it was because she wanted her minions fully committed to the Corrupter. Though in all honesty, sucking the life out of a prisoner in order to heal the injuries of a soldier willing to pay was plenty corrupted.”

On that count, she agreed. “Did you ever see one of them take life out of a person but not keep it? I don’t mean pass it on to someone else for coin, but just… dump it out into the world?”

Agrippa barked out an incredulous laugh. “Are you joking? They’re all addicts, Lydia. You know that. That’s the last thing one of them would do.”

“Well, it’s what Ceenah did, and it’s why you’re still good-looking enough to interest Malahi.”

“Thank you for the compliment.” He smirked, but then his brow furrowed in thought.

“If you could learn to do that… Lydia, if you could learn to take life in the defense of your own without getting all punch drunk on murder and falling back into bed with the Corrupter, you’d be a force to be reckoned with.

” He smiled, and this time it was genuine, with not a hint of mockery.

“It’s been an age since I lost a fight, but I lost to Anukastre’s queen sure and true. You should really talk to her.”

“I was planning on it.”

“Good.” He stepped back into the room. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go make good use of my second chance at life.” Agrippa shut the door in her face.

“Ass,” Lydia muttered, not remotely willing to admit she was becoming fond of the ex-legionnaire in the way one might feel about a particularly irritating brother. Then she started down the corridor, searching until she found a servant, who inclined his head respectfully. “Marked One.”

Nerves flooded her, making it hard to speak. If Ceenah refused to see her… Lydia shoved away her insecurities, and said, “I would like to request an audience with your queen.”