Page 73 of Kept

Elissa died instantly.

A horn sounded. Deep and velvety, it rolled through the air, bringing everyone to a halt. A second later, a torch waved in the distance.

“What the fuck?” one of my knights muttered.

Laurent came to my side. I was plenty furious with him for running at the Sithistrans, but I stuffed my anger away as we braced for a new assault.

It never came. Instead, Edwin Blackmun emerged from the gloom with his sword in his hand. His armor was dented in several places, and he had a deep cut across his cheek. The torchbearer at his side carried a white flag of truce.

Laurent stiffened. Around me, my knights did the same.

Edwin stopped a distance away. The torchbearer stopped too. Edwin’s brown eyes strayed to his sister, and he swallowed audibly before swinging his gaze to Laurent. “I…come under a flag of truce.”

“Like you did before?” Laurent asked.

“No.” Edwin lifted his sword. I tensed, prepared to step in front of Laurent, but Rellan’s heir merely turned the blade over as if he meant to show it to us. “I haven’t killed a vampire this night, Your Grace. I couldn’t get close enough.”

Laurent’s voice was hard. “That’s fortunate for you, Lord Edwin, because you would not have survived such an encounter.”

Edwin’s mouth worked. “My father is dead. Crasor is dead. My sister is dead.” He looked toward the Rift. “I heard that voice. We all did.” He stared a moment, then turned back to us and went to one knee. He balanced his sword on his palms and extended it toward Laurent. “I don’t know if I should believe your queen, King Laurent, but I have no choice. Sithistra surrenders.”

Chapter Twenty-One

GIVEN

“He’s going to make himself sick again,” I said, my eyes on Laurent.

For the past hour, he’d moved among Sithistras’ fallen on the other side of the Rift, kneeling and murmuring prayers. The sky had lightened to purple. We couldn’t stay much longer or we’d get caught in the sunrise.

Varick stood behind me. He slid an arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head. “No,” he said softly, “he’s not saying Nor Doruvian rites this time.”

I frowned. “What’s he saying?”

“The funeral prayer of the Brotherhood. He has to say it twice—”

“Twice, I know,” I said, tears stinging my eyes. “Once for the Tower of the Mind and once for the Tower of the Heart.” The stinging in my eyes increased as I watched Laurent sink to one knee beside a Green Guard. He pulled the man’s cloak gently over his face, then placed the Guard’s sword on his chest. Laurent put his own hand on top of the sword and bowed his head.

A hot tear streaked down my face.

Varick rested his chin on the top of my head. “Now you see him as I do.”

“Yes,” I whispered. I reached behind me and found Varick’s hand. He threaded his fingers through mine. Knights moved around us, readying the horses as we prepared to return to Lar Katerin. Edwin Blackmun was going with us. Until we dealt with Midian and the Thicket, he would remain Laurent’s “guest” in Nor Doru.

Which was a kinder way of saying “prisoner.”

Varick sighed, his breath tickling my hair. “I’m going to fetch Laurent. I’m worried about the Pass holding.”

Alarm shot through me. “Do you think it’s damaged?” I asked, my eyes going to the bridge. A Wesyfeddan stepped onto it, leading a horse from the Sithistran side. A body wrapped in a brown cloak was slung over its back, and my heart clenched as I recognized Rhys’s boots. Seconds later, Igrith strode to the Pass wearing a wooden expression. She and the other Wesyfeddan walked on either side of the horse as it carried Rhys forward. The bridge creaked.

“I don’t know if it’s damaged,” Varick rumbled above me, “but I’d dearly love it if the Wesyfeddans kept their horses off it. At least until Laurent is back on Nor Doruvian soil.”

I bit my lip. “Igrith is a Seer. She probably knows it’s safe for now.”

Varick’s voice softened. “She didn’t foresee Rhys’s death. Her shock was apparent to anyone who saw her watch him fall.”

Guilt rose in my chest, along with embarrassment. I hadn’t witnessed Igrith’s shock because I’d been too busy dry-heaving as Radu carried me to the Nor Doruvian side of the Rift. The nausea and fatigue had faded, but my embarrassment remained.

And a third emotion brewed within me, but I buried it before it could grow and alert Varick.

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