Page 46 of Tides of Shadows

“You burn whatever tries to pass,” I whispered.

“I do,” he said without tremor. “Our world is quiet and ordered, so far as it may be. But someone must pay the price.”

“What lies beyond the desert?”

“No one knows.” He shook his head. “Caravans that dared the crossing did not return. They say those lands were once green, but the sun grew harsher, the rivers failed, and the desert swelled and swallowed all. Now only small towns cling to the coasts and trade in scraps of what can endure. Whatever was beyond, we have no contact with it.” He paused, then added, “As for the Plague, the veil will not hold much longer. A little more time and not even Cassandra will keep it contained.”

I felt myself growing faint. The air in the catacombs was heavy, smelling of dust and stale smoke.

“I must take some breath,” I said, steadying myself on a column. “I have to get out.”

I didn’t wait for his reaction. I walked quickly toward the exit, my footsteps echoing through the cold corridors.

We passed again through the temple. I left Dricus and took a long path along the palace walls. I needed to order my thoughts, though I knew it could not be done.

Was my power a coincidence or a cause? Why the three of us?

I climbed the narrow stairs until I stood high upon one of the palace’s domes. I had never been here before. White City lay open beneath me. The town breathed with life, yet from that height it seemed hushed, the masts in the far harbor pricking the sky. A faint wind touched my face, a rarity in that stifling place.

In that quiet I heard only my mother’s words echoing.

Darkness is coming. You must be ready.

She knew. She knew more than she ever told me. And she kept it hidden. She always had these riddles of hers.

Weary of my thoughts, I began my walk back. My heels clattered rhythmically along the stone paths, and one question still echoed in my mind, one I was afraid to say aloud.

Were we truly the salvation, or perhaps the beginning of the end?

Chapter

14

The following days dissolved into endless quarrels among the lords during the Gathering. Voices rose, tempers flared, and alliances took shape in plain sight. The coming Election hung in the air like an approaching storm.

Cassandra grew sharper with each session, her words precise and merciless. The lords, meanwhile, haggled without shame over tariffs and taxes between their lands and the Dominium, as if coin mattered more than blood. It was as though the Plague had already faded from their memories, replaced by the familiar hunger to line their own pockets.

Everyone welcomed the break in council proceedings with quiet relief. On that free day, I retreated into my chambers and barred myself from the ceaseless clamor of the palace. I collapsed into a chair with a book, but a knock tore me from my thoughts. Mirabel vanished somewhere. I rose and opened the door.

A young huntsman stood in the doorway. I recognized him at once. The same one I had met during the hunt.

“Cedric,” he said, dipping his head. “My Lady.”

“Yes. I remember you,” I replied. “How can I help you?”

“Oh. You cannot.”

I raised a brow.

“I came for Mirabel,” he continued, shy and uncertain. “I promised her a walk.”

Oh interesting.

I realized, with a sting of guilt, how wrapped in my own troubles I had been. I had not even noticed that Mirabel had met someone. I silently scolded myself for the neglect.

“Please, come in,” I said. “I will get her.”

I found Mirabel in her chamber, every dress she owned strewn across the floor. Silk, linen, and wool lay in bright disorder. She had clearly tried them all.