Page 129 of Deadly Maiden

I command my undead to stop at my back, but out on the wings, the farthest of them amble forward, quietly, making a pincer movement to envelop the site from the rear. Those enforcers can stay put until I’m ready to deal with them.

This woman, however? A Sister of Artreos? They worship our world and our magik, are known for their ambivalence to fae politics and disagreements.

“Greetings, young Wyntre.” She inclines her head, looking down her elegant nose. “Well met.”

“Well…met? I think this is more like worst met. Why are you here when I expected only enforcers? Have the rest fled?”

Surely, I would have seen signs of them doing so, if it only just happened?

“I come bearing both unfortunate and good news. For the first, I offer my sorrow.” Her face is grim.

“What is it?” My throat tightens, but I manage to get more words out. “I have no one left to lose except Rorsyd. It cannot be him.” A flat statement that I do not want refuted.

The tiny frown line that creases her forehead seems a harbinger. “I am so sorry. The bad news does concern your soulmate.”

The world stalls, silences. I hear myself speak as if from a distance. “Tell me then.”

“He has been captured by enforcers. They ambushed him at the gravesite of Orish.”

I rock on my feet, dizzied. After that, how can there be any good news? “How? He is alive?”

“Yes, but sorely injured. They sank an iron spear into him to quell his dragonshifter magik and are taking him to Tensorga to be displayed.”

Displayed?My jaw tenses. What does that even mean?

She merely waits. I resist sinking to the ground and wailing.

This is it. In this moment, I feel the fracture in my world, creating the two paths I could take.

Go this way or that way.Choose.

One requires less from me, just natural reaction and a willingness to not push past any boundaries placed on me by gender, by physical presence, or by the resources I can call my own. I have no armies at my feet. No legions of advisors. Well, I do have a small undead army, but will they even count?

The second path will be terrible and destructive but may be the better path. It is the only path that delivers a chance to bring back my soulmate.

Though the first path is simple, I do not trust King Madlin. Give in and cry and crawl to him and beg for Rorsyd’s life? It would be the ultimate weakness to do so. We would end up dead.

“Fuck that,” I whisper to myself. How fucking dare he.

I can no longer afford any weakness if I am to rescue Rorsyd. I am stronger than that. I will walk the second path.

I clench my fists, pull myself taller. I am a necromancer, and I will find a way to wrench this king from his throne, and with my hand at his throat, I will rescue my soulmate. “Tell me the rest.” My voice croaks, my anger sizzling in my veins.

No. More. Weakness.

“The good news is that the Sisters of Artreos are ready to aid your cause, though the king believes we are on his side. He believes we are simply giving you his message. Those men behind me know nothing.”

Unless they overhear her words.

Then she smiles the gentle smile of someone who is thoroughly at peace.

Me, I close my fist in a gesture that summons the undead encircling the site to close in and take the two enforcers in their undead hands. The men shriek until they are gagged bywhatever my small but merciless army finds to shove in their mouths.

I have no sympathy for these soldiers. Not with Rorsyd having an iron spear stuck through him then being put on display by the king, as if he were some trophy.

Chapter 41

Rorsyd

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