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“This isn’t how we go to war, Seeda,” Geovani said in a cracked whisper. “If it’s my time to die, then I accept El’s fate for me. It is well with my soul.”
Ryn glanced at the mountain slope, marking a path to run once she confessed. It was a long sprint and these men looked fast, but if she made it to the foot of the mountain, Bastone would be there, Yusuf, Faro. General Reza. The shallow sound of Heva taking in a deep breath and letting it out sounded beside her.
“Don’t you want the Gold Maiden?” Heva asked. The Prince angled his head and planted his attention on Heva. “I’ll make it easy for you to guess who it is. It’s actually really obvious.” His gaze flickered over to Ryn for a moment, and Ryn froze beneath his stare.
“Don’t bother looking at her. You really think someone with weak arms like hers is the Gold Maiden? Look at me.” Heva nodded down to her muscled body, even turned her arms to show them. “You know it’s me.”
Ryn bit back a shriek. “It’s not her!” she stated, but she could see the B’rei Mira Prince studying Heva’s build, his expression changing, his shoulders relaxing. A slow, creeping smile found his face. Ryn stepped forward. “It’s me!” she shouted. “I’m Adassah Cahana, the Gold Maiden!”
“No, I’m the Gold Maiden!” Seeda growled and stepped forward, and Ryn’s face fell. “It’s me!”
The Prince released a laugh and shoved Seeda back. “You’re right,” he said, seemingly to no one in particular until his gold-black eyes sliced back to Heva. “It is obvious.” He grabbed her by the throat, and Seeda screamed until a warrior slapped a hand over her mouth.
Ryn was pulled back with the other priestesses as the Prince drove Heva backward past the pool, past the rock ledge, and toward the cliffside.
“No! Don’t!” Ryn screamed, scratching at the man behind her until he wrapped an arm around her waist, pinning her there. “It’s me! I’m the Gold Maiden, I swear it!” The men around her laughed. “You have to believe me, it’s not her, it’s…”
Heva’s face purpled as the Prince’s grip tightened on her neck, but even so, her red-eyed gaze slid over to Ryn, and in that moment, the former Folke guardswoman had the audacity to smile. Ryn shook her head, begging Heva to fight back, right until the last second when the Prince plunged his dagger through her stomach and threw her off the cliff.
“Someday, we’ll understand why things happen the way they do. Even the bad things. Even the unfair things.”
“We might not understand what El is doing, but someday, we’ll understand.”
“Someday, we’ll understand.”
“Even the bad things.”
Ryn’s surroundings sharpened. She was back in the caves. Heva was there, gilded in the torchlight of the underground Mother City prison. Distant noises of grunting and inmates shouting played tricks on her ears.
“We might not understand what El is doing,” Heva said, clearly now, “but someday, we’ll understand why things happen the way they do. Even the bad things. Even the unfair things. Someday you’ll see why things ended with King Xerxes the way they did.”
After a moment where the only sounds left in the tunnel were crackling torch fires and distant chatter, Heva sighed and walked around Ryn, heading to their cave and leaving Ryn alone with her new commander signet in her hand. Somewhere beyond the rocky curves, another Fall Order was coming to its conclusion. Prisoners wailed and cheered as a leader was chosen.
But Ryn spun, watching Heva disappear through the cave arch, turning into a vapour as she did, her tangled dark hair and white shirt sweeping away with a wind that had never existed in the prison.
Ryn heard herself screaming. The caves disappeared and a flash of light brought her back to the mountainside, the pool before her dark in the sunset, a man’s rough hands holding her in place, the strangled sounds of a dozen priestesses echoing over the cliff where only the Prince stood now. He wiped the blood from his brown-handled dagger on his robe as he turned, a triumphant glimmer in his eyes as he looked at Geovani, licked his red lips, and said, “You said the Gold Maiden would be hard to kill. That was easy.”
Ryn’s legs turned to mush, and when the man’s hands released her, she collapsed against the rock, scraping her knees and staring at that empty place on the cliff.
Heva was still standing beside her. She must have been. Because Ryn heard her voice.
“Someday, we’ll understand.”
“Should we take these maidens as hostages?” a voice asked.
The Prince released a laugh, a sound of boasting, a proud melody that grated against Ryn’s flesh. “Ah, why bother? We’d have to feed them on the journey across the desert, and it would be a hassle.”
At some point, the men tossed the priestesses back toward the pool and left. There was no reason to race down the mountain and inform the border divisions to try and catch the intruders. The Per-Siana army would never make it back here in time.
Ryn sat there as Heva came around, the silver beads in her hair clapping together as she crouched and put a hand on Ryn’s shoulder. That devilish smirk was back on her face. “Ryn,” she said. “We might not understand what El is doing, but someday, we’ll understand.”
The cold wind slipped past Ryn’s arms, taking Heva away with it.
The first thing Ryn noticed when she became aware of her surroundings was Faro’s puffy face and blubbering chatter as he pulled at the ribbon on his neck. But it was only for a moment. Ryn glanced off and got lost to the endless river of time once again. Bodies in silver armour and navy leathers moved around the feasting tent. The sun went down, eating the sky and sinking the camp into blackness.
“She’s alive, Adassah.”
It was the phrase that brought Ryn out of her trance. She tried to register Geovani sitting across the table. She stared at the talking woman, aged lips saying words like, “We found her. She’s barely hanging on. It’s hard to tell how much time she has left,” and, “It’s unlikely she’ll recover, but I’ll take her back to the Mother City for now. Just pray a physician there will be willing to help.”
