Page 105 of Stormvein

The woman in the center of the room betrayed not only Sacha, as horrific as what happened to him was, but everyone in Stonehaven and the Veinwardens. Her actions led directly tosuffering and death for people whose only crime was wanting freedom. Why should her fate be any gentler than what she inflicted on others? Why should she be spared the consequences of this war?

“I have to inform the rest of the Veinwarden leaders, but it’ll need to be done selectively.” His attention doesn’t move from Lisandra. “Varam?” His voice brings Varam back into the room immediately.

“We’re moving her to the secure chamber. Then I want Mira informed of what’s happening. Privately, before anyone else. Select a small group from those who were at Glassfall Gap, and see if they’re rested enough for another mission. Only those you would trust with your life.” He pauses, eyes moving over Lisandra. “Although, that seems not to be the best judgment to use right now. Follow your gut. Then gather the rest of the Veinwarden leaders, so I can speak to them.”

Varam nods, his position as Sacha’s second replacing whatever betrayal he must be feeling over Lisandra. “I’ll gather them once she’s secure. Mira will want details.”

“She’ll have them.” Sacha’s gaze finally shifts from Lisandra to Varam. “You might need to take any blades from her beforehand. I need Lisandra alive. I’m not certain Mira will feel the same way.”

While they secure Lisandra’s hands behind her back, I watch her face. She doesn’t resist, doesn’t plead for mercy. But every time Sacha moves, she stiffens. Whatever he did to her, it scared her more than she can hide.

Part of me pities her, despite everything. A small, shrinking part that remembers mercy is supposed to separate us from our enemies. The rest of me—especially the part that held Sacha’s broken body, and watched him struggle for each breath as he lay dying—feels only satisfaction at seeing her finally face the consequences of her actions. Justice has teeth in Meridian.

“I want to come with you,” I say as they prepare to move her, the words surprising me almost as much as they seem to surprise them.

Sacha inclines his head. I’d expected him to argue, to try to shield me from the darker aspects of what might happen. But his attention doesn’t waver from Lisandra as Varam moves to a section of wall beside the stone hearth and presses his palm against a barely visible pattern engraved into the wall. Ancient mechanisms grind within the stone, and a hidden entrance appears, a doorway where there had been only a solid wall moments before.

Lisandra walks between them, Varam in front of her, Sacha behind, while I follow down a narrow stone stairway that descends into darkness. The air grows colder, danker with each step. Shadows flow from Sacha’s fingertips like liquid night, changing color as they move, illuminating our path with an eerie blue-black light.

The chamber below Sacha’s quarters is small, but clearly designed as a cell. A heavy wooden door, reinforced with narrow bands, opens to reveal a cot against one wall, and a chamber pot on the other. There are no lightstones or torches. Nothing that can be used as a weapon or aid escape. She walks inside without argument, and the door closes on her with a thud that rings of finality.

Varam returns upstairs ahead of us to direct two fighters as guards, both grim-faced men who were with us at Glassfall Gap.

As we climb back to Sacha’s quarters, he breaks the silence. His voice is soft but carries in the narrow space between us.

“She was right about one thing. Sereven will expect some kind of ambush at Blackstone Ridge.”

“Then what will you do?”

“Give him exactly what he expects.” His mouth tips up on one side. “And something he doesn’t.”

Once the secret door has been closed, I cross the room to pour a cup of water, my hand shaking slightly. I can’t stop thinking about how much has changed in such a short time. The black and white moral outlook I brought from my world has eroded, replaced by the harsh realities of this one. Survival sometimes requires compromise. Justice sometimes demands blood.

“You could have killed her.” I wait for Varam to leave before speaking, thinking about the cracks in the wall and the scorch mark on the floor that weren’t there before I left him alone with Lisandra. “When I was gone, I mean. Why didn’t you? You had every right. Why didn’t you do it?”

“Death would be too quick … too simple, and a waste of a resource.” The raven stirs on his shoulder, wings fluttering as if in agreement, its form so solid now it casts its own shadow on the wall behind them. “She wants to die. To escape the consequences of her choices. I won’t give her that satisfaction.”

I remember the dark marks I saw on her skin, already fading when we returned, but still there. “You did something to her, didn’t you? With your shadows?”

His expression doesn’t change. “Not shadows, no. Voidcraft. I showed her what awaits traitors. She needed to understand that her life continues only because it suits my needs.”

“But after …” I don’t want to finish the sentence. But he knows I mean after Blackstone Ridge. After she serves her purpose as bait. After Sereven.

“After, we’ll see. For now, we have to prepare.” He turns to me fully, and for a moment, I catch a glimpse of something beneath the coldness. A flash of bleakness, of burden, that’s gone almost before it forms. “Blackstone Ridge requires careful planning. The moment Sereven realizes I’m not dead, he will expect something … but he won’t foresee what I plan to bring.”

The confidence in his voice should be reassuring, but it makes me wonder what he isn’t telling me. What plan is he making that extends beyond Blackstone Ridge?

“You have something in mind, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t offer more than that, eyes on the map. There’s a focus to him now, a singular purpose that ignores all distractions. The raven’s gaze follows, its head tilting at identical angles to Sacha’s, as though they truly share one mind, one consciousness split between two forms.

And I know with a certainty I can’t explain, that whatever he’s planning, it’s going to take everyone past the point of no return.

The prophecy whispers through my mind.Where shadow leads, storm will follow. And I know, without any doubt, that Iwillfollow him into whatever darkness awaits.

Our paths are bound together now by forces greater than choice.