Page 10

Jude

Lorian and Maliah have never been kno wn to get along. Rumors argue that they are too much alike. Both are strong-willed, though Maliah has often taken their challenges past fairness.

Excerpt from Asidian Lore: Legends and Myths of the Realm

“Holy gods, you did it.”

I woke to a soft, feminine voice whispering in my ear.

I could have sworn something wet and scratchy lapped at my back, but I was too drained to accomplish the simple feat of opening my eyes.

“Wake up. Before that insipid guard returns. I would hate to stain my hands with his death.” A pause. “Well, actually, he might deserve it. Take your time.”

Every muscle went taut. The voice sounded real . Not like the ethereal sound of Kiara’s voice when she came to me in a dream or hallucination. The last time she’d visited, finding me in the tangled web of my own mind, she had told me she was falling for me—

I was too pessimistic to believe that was real.

“Wake up,” the voice demanded once more, no longer patient.

I forced my eyes open, the room a blur as I searched for the newcomer. “W-who are you?”

The chains imprisoning me clinked together as a lock turned. Gravity was my newest foe, and I collapsed to the floor in a messy heap, stinging pain slicing across my body.

I peered up at my supposed savior, blinking away the black spots.

“Hello, Commander.” A woman no more than five feet tall waved. She was dressed in all leather, and knives and additional weapons decorated her full belt.

“Who are you?” I repeated, shoving to my feet. I rolled my shoulders back with a grimace, my back a mess of agony and reopened cuts. I’d never seen this woman before in my life.

If she chose to fight me now, she might just win. I simply didn’t have the strength. Lack of food and water did that to a person.

Her eyes flickered down… My wrists. The manacles that bound my power lay on the floor. They held the imprint of fingerprints, as if the metal had been pried off by hands fashioned of flames.

She’d freed me.

As if I’d called it forth, heat churned in my chest, my magic bubbling to the surface now that the cuffs were off. I felt whole once again, the steadying presence of my power seeming to press affectionately against my insides.

The woman smiled, a wicked thing that hinted at cunning and deceit. “I’ll tell you who I am when we’re safely outside these walls. Time is of the essence, Commander. Oh, and you’re welcome,” she added, glancing at the manacles. “Those bastards were not easy to remove.”

“Why would I trust—”

Movement caught my eye, and I instinctively reached for my nonexistent blade. My breath caught as a fucking jaguar slid out from the shadowy corner of the room, its slick, speckled coat glistening beneath the fluttering light of the sunfire.

“Is that—”

“Yes, it is,” she replied as if bored. “Which I’m sure is a shock, but do hurry and control your excitement. You can pet him when we get out.”

I wouldn’t touch that thing in a thousand lifetimes. I’d never seen one in the flesh , only heard the legends of how sharp their teeth were and how easily their claws sliced through bone.

Suddenly, the woman’s presence felt less like a gift.

“Well, come on,” she insisted, giving me her back as she waited for me to follow.

I hesitated. She may or may not be here to help me, but she had unlocked my cuffs. This opportunity couldn’t be wasted, and if she wished to stab me in the back later, then she wouldn’t be pleased by my reaction.

The scar beside my heart pulsed as I pursued the woman and the predator at her side. My body was humming with a divine power that grew stronger, even as my injuries pulled open with every step.

It was a sentient thing, this magic. It required air to breathe, same as me, and now that the cuffs were off, it might as well have been hyperventilating.

“Hurry!” the woman hissed. She opened the unlocked door to the cell, the hinges squeaking in protest. I winced, waiting for a surge of guards. No one came.

Marching through the cell, she waved me down the torchlit hallway, bringing me to a circular staircase.

There wasn’t time for indecision now. If guards came, we’d be trapped in the stairwell, and my chance of finding Kiara and warning her would be lost. I rushed up the steps.

At the top was a door, and like the one leading to the dungeon, it was unlocked.

“What did you do with all the guards?” I asked between my teeth.

“I didn’t kill them, if that’s what you’re asking. Not that you should care.” The sparse sunfires cast ghoulish circles below her narrowed eyes.

Get out first, then interrogate her , I reminded myself. And she was right. I didn’t much care about the guards who’d taken turns whipping me.

Sliding out into the hall, I kept close to the wall, avoiding the brighter sunfires.

All of these fortresses appeared the same—cold and fashioned with dull stone. They belonged to generals the king favored, men who had risen up in the ranks by showcasing their unwavering loyalty. I’d visited a few during my time with the king, often when I was on an errand to deliver a threat.

Hanging on the wall was a single blue banner embellished with an ochre starwing. The sigil belonged to General Devonshire, a man who was currently sweeping the southern marshlands for rebels.

Meaning security wouldn’t be as stringent with so many of his men by his side.

By the looks of it, we were in the servants’ quarters now, and judging by the clatter of pots and pans ringing down a winding corridor, it was dinnertime. These halls should be all but empty. The timing was perfect.

“Through there,” the woman commanded, pointing to a chipped blue door.

It had been left ajar, brisk air sweeping across my bare skin. With one final glance at my unexpected hero, I poked my head through the gap and immediately cursed.

A soldier paced in front of the woods, a hint of auburn hair poking through his hood. Harlow.

“Someone’s out there,” I hissed.

“And? Kill them. I don’t see the problem.” She shrugged. “He’s wearing the king’s colors. Therefore, he’s marked himself as a target. It’s his fault, really.”

I was torn between lunging at the lieutenant and sparing his life. Why I felt so merciful, I couldn’t discern. But that hesitation was answer enough.

I didn’t want to kill him. Not today, at least.

“I know him.” I spoke through a clenched jaw, not about to argue with this woman about the moralities of killing a brother. Even if he was a traitor. I’d slayed enough of my own men to never want to lay a hand on them again, regardless of us being on opposing sides.

Before I could say another word, the woman kicked at the door with a booted heel, her pet lunging into the night. I fought to grasp her arm, but she moved too swiftly, slinking out of my reach as if her body was made of smoke.

“Wait,” I called, but she’d already extracted one of the blades at her hip, a cruel smile on her lips as she faced Harlow’s back.

He’d left me in the dungeons, all but dead. I shouldn’t feel bad about his impending demise, and yet—

I sprinted after, and this time when I grabbed for her, I made contact.

My fingers curled around her wrist, and the woman hissed, dropping the knife. She stumbled and clutched at her hand, her wrist encircled with a painful-looking burn.

I backed away. Had I done that?

Her cry alerted Harlow, who whipped around from where he’d been gazing off into the distance. Considering the thick black trees encasing the fortress and the mountains peeking through the leaves, we appeared to still be in the North.

“Maddox,” Harlow spoke, his tone relaying nothing. “How did you get out here?” His eyes flickered to the woman and her jaguar before returning to mine. “You need to get back before the others notice,” Harlow ordered, taking a cautious step closer.

He inched for his weapon. If he thought he was going to put me back in that cell, he was wrong.

“Believe it or not, I’m trying to help you,” he argued. “And Kiara.”

I snarled. “Do not say her name.”

Harlow held up placating hands. Ironic, as one of them now gripped a blade. “I swear to you, Jude. You must trust me. Timing is everything.” He peered around us, then let out a weighted sigh and said, “We’re ten miles from Fortuna—”

His words were cut off by the hilt of a sword.

The stranger had advanced on him before I could react, pulling a longsword from her sheath and jamming the hilt against Harlow’s temple. His body struck the hard earth with a resounding thud. Stunned, I whirled on her.

“What?” She shrugged. “He was talking too much, and we have to get out of here.”

“He was likely going to let us go,” I said, turning to make sure Harlow lived. His chest rose and fell steadily, and I let out a relieved exhale. It hadn’t been a lethal blow.

She sheathed her weapon. “We don’t have the time for idle pleasantries.”

I decided that I didn’t care for this woman at all.

Still, I ran with her into the trees, allowing the obsidian woods to devour us.

Soon, the usual dim blocked out the flickering lights of the fortress at our backs, and I could barely see my feet flying across the uneven earth. Reeds nicked my bare feet, branches slicing my torso. I was half-dressed and fleeing imprisonment, and I had never felt so out of control in my life.

My eyes ached, starting to burn. Yet the farther we ran, the less they bothered me, and the brighter the woods became. As if my sight had adjusted and the moon had doubled its size.

“Almost there!”

Her beast growled as he scurried by me, on the heels of his mistress. The oddity of it all finally caught up.

I stopped running.

“Why are you helping me?” I called out, forcing her to slow. She let out a dramatic sigh before turning and walking back.

“Because this is the first time Cirian has stepped away, leaving me the perfect chance to sneak in. And believe me, I want to stop that masked puppet as badly as you do.” She cocked her head, delivering a look reeking of malice. A person could choke on that look alone.

“Some call me Maliah,” she continued, seeming to enjoy the way my lips parted at the revelation. “And now you’re going to owe me a favor when you’re not being hunted like prey.” She drifted backward, her boots crunching the thick underbrush. “When that day comes, I expect you to fulfill your end. I’ve learned it’s always a good idea to befriend those before they rise to power.”

A fucking goddess. And one of the more ruthless ones at that.

I never believed I would prefer for Arlo to show up, but desperate times and all that.

“Maliah. Goddess of Revenge and Redemption,” I murmured, needing to say it out loud. It was rumored the main gods and deities like her used to roam the earth, mingling with the humans. But that had been decades ago, and after Raina had vanished, so did the rest of the divine.

“The one and only,” she said, continuing to slink away and into the woods. “I would’ve visited you earlier , but I had enemies to shake. You’re not the only one being hunted.”

Who was she running from? Her enemies could very well be my own.

Maliah peered overhead, to where a starwing fluttered down and landed on a branch. She scowled at it, shooing it away with a hiss. “But this is where I leave you. Can’t stay too long in one place.”

I had so many questions.

Instead, I asked the only question that mattered to me.

“Kiara,” I yelled, compelling the goddess to stop once again. She groaned as if my very voice brought her pain. “Do you know if she’s all right? Have you heard any news?”

“I’ve seen her,” Maliah admitted, and my heart thudded wildly in relief. “She’s doing her part, same as you.”

I was tempted to ask if she’d been furious, even if she’d appeared nothing short of desperate when she visited my dreams—but that likely had to do with my bloodied state. I didn’t care if she held on to her anger for me leaving; I deserved it. But seeing her again would be worth her wrath. Especially after…after what we’d said in that cell. It felt cemented then, our bond, and as if agreeing, my scar twinged in reply, a flood of warmth blazing along the vine-like scars she’d gifted me.

It truly hadn’t been a dream.

“My sources have reported that she’s engaging with the Fox. They’re planning on heading to Mena first before engaging in your rescue.” She smiled broadly, clearly proud she made it here first. “You might be able to intercept them if you hurry. Apparently she was able to convince your mother to help her better than you could.”

Kiara was with my mother ?

Fuck . The combination would be disastrous.

Maliah waved her hand in farewell, her body blurring as the darkness swept her up. “Don’t let me down, Commander. I have a lot riding on you.”

A growl echoed, and both beast and goddess vanished into thin air.

Leaving me alone and defenseless in the woods.

Gods, I should’ve at least asked for a blade. Or a shirt.

Thinking of blades, I surmised that if Kiara had tracked me to Fortuna and located my mother, she should have the Godslayer in her possession by now, especially if my intuition about Grey had been correct. Or the kid had become the richest nine-year-old in the city.

My mother chose to aid Kiara after denying me. It stung. Perhaps she had a change of heart after the king’s men had stormed Fortuna and stolen me in the night.

The remaining question, however, was why my mother journeyed with Kiara at all. The texts she’d stolen throughout her life were rumored to contain ancient spells…spells that might allow us to unite Raina’s divinity without one of us dying. It had been my only hope.

Yet the Fox’s involvement told me the tomes didn’t hold all of the answers we required.

And her risking her life to aid a fugitive—who wasn’t her own son—had my heart beating faster with an emotion I wasn’t familiar with.

Without a choice but to do as Maliah instructed, I headed east.

The pain that had radiated from my back eased as I strode through the underbrush. That divine warmth contained between my ribs stirred, sliding around to my torn skin and washing over the fresh lashes. I halted, squeezing my eyes shut as the burning turned into a soothing numbness. I pictured a healed back, unmarred by Cirian’s vicious whip. He didn’t deserve to mark me. He’d never had that right.

My pulse thundered, a full-body shudder working its way up and down my form. Reaching behind me, I prepared to assess the damage done by the guards.

I frowned. My fingers connected with dry, smooth skin.

No pain. No open wounds. No cuts.

I cursed, dropping my arm and feeling around. My back…it was healed. Just as I’d pictured.

I shut my eyes and imagined the cut on my cheek gone as well. Patrick was just as vile as Cirian, and while his mark was shallow, I preferred his mark to be a distant memory.

My hand trembled as I guided my hand to my face.

Smooth skin. It was gone. Same as the lashes on my back.

All healed with a thought .

Moving to my left side, I sucked in a wavering inhale. The twin scars crossing my left side remained, still as deep and angry as before. Attempting to wish them away led to nothing. After three tries, those gifts from my father endured.

Regardless, my wonder couldn’t be diminished.

In the Mist, I’d unwittingly healed Kiara, saving her from the maw of death. I shouldn’t be surprised I’d now mended a few fresh lacerations.

This development was a reminder I was no longer just Jude Maddox, Commander of the Knights of the Eternal Star. Within my chest, I harbored two of the three missing keys of divinity from a fallen goddess—

Which meant I wasn’t entirely human. Not anymore.