“Just like that,” he said.
“No, I thought about it. I let it go for me more than for you. You’re not the only one with corpses in your memories. I killed on command. I didn’t ask why. Voron would point and I would murder.”
“You were a kid,” he said.
“And you had your emotions readjusted. I believe that’s what they call extenuating circumstances. Having them doesn’t help as much as it should, does it? I can’t change what I did. I can only go forward and try to do better. I’ll always be a killer. I like it. You’ll always be a bastard. There is a part of you that enjoys kicking the door in and throwing a severed head on the table.”
“N’importe quoi.”
I made a mental note to ask Christopher to translate. He spoke fluent French.
“Some pair we are,” Hugh said.
“Mm-hm. Sitting here all sad on the porch, while a dragon is invading and our dad is having a midlife crisis with golden chariots . . .”
Hugh grinned, and then his face turned dark.
“Do one thing for me,” he said.
“Mm?”
“Don’t do to the girl what was done to me.”
“Julie’s will is her own. I’ve never forced her to do anything, and I don’t plan on it.”
Elara slid off the branch and jumped into the grass.
“It’s not all bad.” Hugh rose and walked toward her.
I finished my tea.
“Do you trust him?” my aunt asked by my ear.
“I trust the look in his eyes when he speaks about my father. Like he’s torn between loving him and wanting to strangle him.”
“It may prove foolish.”
“If it does, I’ll deal with it,” I told her.
“Spoken like a queen.” My aunt ran her ghostly fingers through my hair. “I finally made you into one.”
“Too bad I’ve run out of time.”
“Is that defeat I hear?” Erra raised her eyebrows.
“No, it’s reality. We may not have the troops to fight Neig, and we definitely can’t face him and my father at the same time. The dragon hates us, but he especially hates him.”
“Are you asking me to persuade your father into an alliance?”
“If the opportunity presents itself.”
My aunt became still. Facing my father would cost her a great deal.
“You ask much, child.”
“Is that defeat I hear?”
She snorted.
“How is it you plan to convince him?” she asked. “Shame? Threats?”
What was it Roman had said? Parents love to play saviors. “No. I’m going to let you use those. If I do it, Dad will just see it as a personal attack and go on the offensive. He wants to be a hero. He wants to come in and save the day and be admired and loved for it. So I plan on being resigned to my fate. Grim, grieving, and in a dark pit of despair.”
“So your father can be your lone ray of hope in the darkness?”
“Yep.”
She studied me. “You’ve grown manipulative.”
“You disapprove?”
“No. I’m surprised.”
“Good. Dad will be surprised, too. I’ve spent a long time convincing him that I don’t do subtle. He doesn’t think I have the brains to manipulate him, so he won’t expect it.”
“You don’t do subtle. Your subtle is pulling a kick so you don’t kill a man with it, just break his bones.”
“I’ve learned.”
She waited, wanting something more from me.
“The word of Sharratum is binding,” I murmured. That was what Erra had said to me when she’d demanded I swear to never rule the land I claimed. “I don’t rule, but I am a queen. I claimed the city. They all need my protection. They don’t even know it, but they need me to survive.” My voice sounded dead. “So I’ll lie, and cheat, and give up my pride. I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep them all safe. I’m not my own person.”
Erra stepped to me. Her arms closed around me. I couldn’t feel her body, but I felt her magic coursing around me.
“Poor child,” she whispered, her voice so soft. “I tried to keep you from it as long as I could.”
I felt like crying, but it didn’t quite come to the surface. I couldn’t afford crying. I had things I had to do.
Curran picked Conlan up and tossed him into the air. The sun hit them just right and I saw an aura emanating from him, a faint shimmer of warm glow. My heart flipped in my chest. He was so far gone.
“You encouraged him to become a god,” I whispered into her embrace.
“I did.”
“I’ll never forgive you for that.”
“You’ll change your mind with time.”
No. I won’t. I wanted to rage and scream at her, but it was Curran who’d made the final decision. I loved him so much and even now he was slipping away from me.
A dull noise echoed through my mind, a silent sound. Someone had just tested my wards. I stepped away from Erra, got up, picked up Sarrat, and headed for the door.
* * *
? ? ?
THE WARRIOR STOOD at the end of the street. He wore dark armor and held his helmet in his left hand and a golden chain in his right. I marched toward him, sword smoking.
I stopped just before my ward. He stood on the other side of it.
He was young, maybe twenty, with clear blue eyes like two chips of winter ice, a line of tattoos running down one side of his pale face, and long blond hair pulled back with a leather cord. The chain in his hand was attached to a locket with a gemstone the size of a walnut that looked like pure red fire caught under glass.
“My lord extends an invitation,” he said, his English stilted. “Come with me, and he will show you the might of his realm.”
If my father had lied to me and I went into Neig’s realm, I could be trapped there forever, or dead.
Behind me Curran walked onto the street. I didn’t have to turn to know that by now he was sprinting. If he got here, he would talk me out of it. We needed to know how many troops Neig had. Without it, we were blind.
“Kate!” Curran barked.
My father wouldn’t want me to be stuck in Neig’s realm, at the dragon’s beck and call. He and I had our problems, but he hated Neig. There was too much rage in his eyes when he talked about the dragon. He wouldn’t lie to me, not about this.
Curran was almost to me.
“Trust me,” I called out. “I’ve got this.”
I would catch hell for this later. I dissolved the ward and held out my left hand. “Lead the way.”
The warrior took my fingers in his, pressing the stone against my hand.
Curran was almost to us. He jumped, covering the last twenty feet.
The world turned white and then my stomach tried to go one way while most of me went the other. The white light faded. My body clenched. I spun around and vomited onto the rocky ground. Awesome entrance. So regal and impressive.
I straightened. We stood on a stone bridge spanning a deep gorge. In front of us a castle rose. Built with dark stone, it didn’t have the elaborate spires and ornamental work of Victorian English palaces or German gingerbread castles. No, this was an Anglo-Norman square stone keep, with thick walls and a forest of massive towers scratching at the sky. To the left, a mountain ridge curved down and away into the mists. To the right, a deep wide valley stretched, bordered at the horizon by more mountains. Far in the distance, at the foot of that other mountain ridge, a lake caught the sun and glistened. The air smelled like pines. A cold draft slid against my skin and I shivered.
In his realm, you are a ghost . . . Well, this ghost should’ve brought a sweater.
“This way,” the warrior told me.
I sheathed Sarrat. We walked down the stone bridge to the massive gates. I couldn’t see the sun, but the sky was light.
“How long have you served Neig?” I asked.
“Forever.”
“What about your family? Did you leave anyone behind?”
No answer.
“Do you remember where you used to live? Was it here in Georgia? Was it in Ireland?”
No answer.
We reached the gates.
“Are you sure you don’t remember your family? You must’ve come from somewhere. What was your mother’s name?”
No answer.