Reeve’s eyes scanned the black lines that ran the length of her veins. “No,” he said softly. “You are not.”
Maeve didn’t tug at her sleeves. She didn’t attempt to conceal the marks as he’d witnessed her do in the past.
“Tell me what to do,” said Maeve, “and I will see it done.”
“I—” he began, his head rolling back against his seat and his throat closing. His elbows landed sharply on the table, shaking the plates and cups. “Enough.”
Maeve was silent for a moment, watching him reel under unseen Magic. “That’s some spell.” She pulled her chair back towards the table and took her seat. “So what isyourplan?”
Reeve looked down at her untouched food and then back up at her. She huffed a breath and then picked up her knife and fork, cutting her omelet, which had surely gone cold. She placed the tiniest bite she could in her mouth, swallowed, and then looked back up at Reeve.
There, in her eyes, was the smallest flicker of the flame he fully intended to re-ignite.
“Shadow cannot move on Hiems yet,” he began. “She cannot move to Earth yet. Her form is weak, even I saw it, unless she’s fully possessing Mal. The more she drains him, the stronger her form gets.”
“What does that mean to you?”
“We move on Hiems and stoke the fires of the rebellion already building there.”
“Are you insane?” She pointed at the banners that ran the length of the hall, now bearing The Dread Mark. “Look around.”
“Then what do you propose?”
His brows raised, and he waited. And waited. When no reply came, he spoke.
“My plan requires your complete cooperation, Maeve,” he said sharply. “You want me to be able to give you honesty? To understand the things you are in the dark about? Then you must act for once without ulterior motives. You will not move behind my back with other intentions. And that begins with telling me what purpose Malachite gave you here.”
She remained silent, chewing her lip. An action that forced him to look away from her. He allowed her to debate answering in complete silence, and when she finally responded, he was surprised.
“I’m to stop the Inheritance.”
Her confession sounded bored, almost in her tone. She had no idea the weight of such a statement. She cut up more of her omelet and shook her head.
“Starting a rebellion,” she muttered. “Ridiculous.”
Chapter 26
Maeve.
She wanted more than anything to walk away. To leave the balcony of her chambers and crash into the warm, silken sheets of her canopy bed.
Maeve.
She cursed under her breath. Thunder that rumbled across the sea in the Dread Lands sounded unmistakably like laughter. Giggling, horrible laughter. Mal’s voice continued to call to her.
Maeve.
Maeve.
Her knees pressed into the cool stone of the balcony. Her cheek pressed against the rail of the balcony. Her body ached for rest. For sleep. His voice plagued her.
Maeve.
Please stop,she begged that distant thunder.
Another laugh echoed across the sea.
Maeve.
