“Folami? Pain Vessel, general in the rebellion’s army. Mother to Itanya and lover to Peytor d’Aelius?” My eyes widened, and a cold sweat broke out along my back. I stopped walking, but the small woman jerked me along with her.
“H-how do you know that?” I hissed. She simply rolled her eyes.
“Unimportant. Whatisimportant is that you are prepared to run and not stop until you reach Lishahl. It is time for you to go home. Now.” There was a sharp urgency in her voice, and she clung to my bicep even as we came to a stop with the crowd. We were jostled around in people’s jubilation as the Vessels were herded off the cart and onto a platform just outside the manor. A man waited there, dressed in a bright blue jacket and pants, a pressed white tunic just barely visible. It brought out the blue hues of his hair that glinted in the sun as he moved to greet each of the Vessels as they disembarked.
“Look,” the girl hissed in my ear. “Watch. Then go.”
I pulled my gaze from her to watch as the last woman—the one who held herself with an immeasurable amount of confidence—embraced the man in bright blue.
The echoes of “princess” undulated throughout the crowd again.
“My daughter is home! Finally unBonded and out of the clutches of the Warlord!” His voice boomed across the square as his declaration was met with boos and hisses. He turned to his daughter with a smarmy smile. “Welcome home, princess. It’s time to take your rightful place.”
Something in my gut told me that her rightful place was not as Samyr’s ruler, and I shuddered at the ominous innuendo.
The woman embraced her father once more before, quick as lightning, she pulled a sharp, bright dagger from the folds of her dress and stabbed her father’s neck once, twice, three times. Gasps and cries of alarm rose from the crowd before a feral roar sounded so loud, I swore the earth shook. The people fell into a crazed bloodlust, calls of “the princess” rising up over any exclamations of fright. The Vessels that returned from Vespera scattered in fear as blood began to pool around theLord of Samyr’s fallen corpse. The woman turned toward the crowd, blood splattered on her face, neck, and across her dress, dripping macabrely from her loose hair. She grinned at the crowd, a feral thing, before her voice cracked out.
“In accordance with our laws,Iam now the Lady of Samyr”—excited whispers buzzed through the crowd at her declaration. “Bow to me. I am the Lady of Samyr.Bow to me.”
As one, the people began to fall to their knees in supplication.
“Tonight we celebrate the dawning of a new age in Samyr. Then, tomorrow, we prepare for war. The Warlord has been keeping secrets from us for decades—the second Sundering is upon us, and he holds the key”—hisses met her declaration—“and we must take it from him.” The Vessel announced with a feverish glint in her eyes that made the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention.
The girl pulled me by my arm in between two buildings and pushed me away from the square.
“Go. Leave, now. The bridges will be unmanned for a time while the guards work to sort out this mess.”
I nodded mutely, processing everything I’d seen in the last hour.
“What would have happened to them? The Vessels?”
The girl shot me a grim look, her mouth a thin line of tension, before she barked her reply. “They would be considered ‘sullied goods’ if they were Bonded to a Mage in Vespera. The lord would have added them to his harem. It’s . . . not a pleasant place to have in Samyr.”
My stomach roiled, and a sour taste filled my mouth.
“And his daughter?”
She sighed, her eyes darting to the street where an impromptu celebration had started in earnest.
“You need to leave,” she muttered before turning to me once again. “As a Bonded Mage for nearly two decades tothe most powerful Pain and Pleasure Mage in recorded history—one of Lord d’Refan’s own creations—she would have been hand-delivered to her father’s Mage army for their sexual entertainment.”
I frowned. “But there are no Mages here. He has no army.”
The girl gave me a look that said, “how dumb are you.”
“There are no Mages on record, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Think, Child. Use your brain. War is coming, and if you don’t think every corner of Elyria has been preparing for centuries for this precise moment, then you are woefully underprepared and have already lost. Know this, Child. The gods are moving, the King is coming, war is imminent, and you must be ready.”
She waited for me to nod again before drawing a hood over her head. “My purpose is fulfilled. May Fate guide and keep you.”
I watched as she faded back into the screaming crowd before I turned and fled. My slippers slapped against the white stones, and I willed my feet to be silent. I ran through the streets of Kiluo, dodging behind buildings as I saw a few guards rush through the city to help get control of the crowd that was only growing progressively louder even as I put distance between me and the city’s center.
My pack was still in the cottage I’d rented, but it was too far away for me to retrieve. There was nothing of value in it, anyway, as I’d grabbed the communication stone before I left for Kiluo this morning. It was tucked into my bra band, and I pushed aside the top of my dress to access it.
I traced the rune as I ran, my thumb shaking from nerves and exertion. Eventually, I was able to trace the pattern after a few attempts and waited impatiently for him to answer.
“Pick up, pick up,” I muttered as I finally reached the outskirts of the city, my strides lengthened as I fell into a fast-paced run. I could keep this pace for a few miles but would tire eventually; I just wanted to put as much distance between myself and Kiluo as possible. I’d walk for a few miles to conserve energy, then resume this pace.
“Fo?” Peytor’s voice crackled through the stone, and I put it against my mouth.
