Page 151 of Deadly Maiden

The sister folds her hood back off her head and nods, perches her spectacles on top of her head. She clasps her hands before her purple gown. “No one outside will interrupt us. The tomb is soundproof, but we have a dead queen in a few hundred pieces, a dead advisor, a king who seems mindless, a long-dead daughter who has walked from her crypt, and a huge mess to explain.”

“Mmm.” I frown at her, cluck my tongue. “That is a lot.”

“Indeed, and I may be an advisor to the king, but I need something to tell those who are outside waiting for the king to emerge. Unless you wish to have to fight your way through them.”

“Okay.” I’m shivering. The nervous energy I’ve been running on has dropped off a cliff.

Rorsyd squeezes my hand in assurance, as he does. It’s good to have him with me.

I glance at where Asher lies, but he is truly gone from that body. And Madlin-Asher has not screamed and died. This is nice.

I blink a few times. I inhale. Where to begin? “Right. Explaining…” Again, I shiver.

“Wait, please.” Rorsyd looks to the sister. “You said we have time? Yes?”

“Yes.” She shrugs, and her perfect eyebrows rise in perfect arcs.

“Then I would like a few moments with Wyntre.”

“Of course.” She melts backward, seeming to glide across the floor, then seats herself near the king.

“Come here.” Rorsyd picks me up and carries me to the other side of the room. My feet are off the ground, and all the while he is hugging me so close I can hardly breathe. “Wyntre, Wyntre, Wyntre. Gods, you feel good. I need to just hug you. You’re safe now.” He leans his back against the wall.

“And you.” Tears are streaming down my cheeks, and I do not bother to wipe them away. I bury myself in his impossibly wonderful arms, wrapped up, and definitely safe.

“If I have to, I will fight us out of here, but right now, I just need this. You.” He rocks me and keeps holding me, and his heart is thumping steadily under my ear.

“You are half-naked, you know?”

“Pfft.She doesn’t care. Neither do I.”

And so we remain like this until everything seems to soften into a semblance of peace. Tranquility cloaks the dangers that may await us, and this perilous day is not over yet, but if I can face it with Rorsyd, I will survive.

I wriggle until he places me on my feet then I turn in place to observe Madlin. “He’s standing. Has it worked?” I cannot conceal the excitement in my voice.

“You really don’t know. It’s that novel to you?”

I slowly shake my head and back myself into his arms, wrap them across me. “No necromancer has ever tried this before.” I doubt any of them ever thought about trying or that this was possible. “Come.”

Together we approach Sister Paloma and the king.

“Has he said anything?” Rorsyd asks.

“Yes.”

He turns and faces us, and I’m struck by the greenness of his eyes. Is that new?

“How do you feel?” It’s a frivolous question, but can he really speak in a sane fashion?

“This sister of Artreos tells me I am King Madlin? Yet, I am not he. And that you have done something to me. You are Wyntre? This is you? I remember you from somewhere…”

He does? Wow. But not Rorsyd?

“I did do something. I put the mind of Asher Stryke into the body of Madlin Darsh.”

On saying that, I elicit a gasp from the sister.

“You what? How? Explain this. My head feels as if it might burst.” He looks about and scowls as he catalogues the destruction. “Perhaps that is to be expected? Who killed these people?”

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