Page 85 of Conspirators' Kingdom

Taisiya had once met a travelling wind mage, an eccentric map maker who claimed to have escaped an avalanche. He described the moment he’d known he might perish, and his mad flight to escape the death racing down from the mountain top.

When she was sane enough to think again, it would be his passionate description of raw, primal fear, anger and sick exhilaration that she compared her awakening to. In the moment the foul magic that bound her soul broke, something in Taisiya broke too.

To the alarm of their minders, Taisiya and her sisters howled and screamed, clawing at their throats and chests. Unfathomable agony tore her open and filled her to the brim, her tortured cries inadequate to the task of conveying it fully. Electricity, too powerful for her to handle, scorched her nerves. She writhed on the floor as thought and rage and fear and bone-deep sorrow returned to her. Cruellest of all was the return of love. For as it enveloped her, a sense of her father’s protective arms around her whispered, ghost-like, across her heart and mind. And in a moment, that, too, was taken from her, replaced with the knowledge that he was dead and she would never know that love again.

In this nightmare, memory merged with dream, grief with hope, and she found herself chasing that last fragment of her father through the darkness. He was forever out of reach. His stern but affectionate expression slowly dissolved until she no longer remembered his face.

Except she usually woke up at this point.

As she chased the fading ghost of Grigori Amethyst, Taisiya realised her feet were throbbing in pain. Her sweat, mixed with blowing sand, grated against her skin. This was wrong. So wrong. Taisiya stopped herself, though the desperation to reach her father’s welcoming embrace fizzed in her veins. She turned from the siren call of his love to shake herself awake.

When she opened her eyes, it was to a darkness as profound as that of her dreams. She blinked her eyes, hoping they might adjust to the weak light of the stars in the sky. Slowly, she made out her surroundings. Two dark figures walked ahead of her. She caught the familiar scent of Mereruka’s perfume on the breeze.

“Meri?” she called out, uncertain and disoriented.

Was this just another dream?

“Fuck!”

The angry, hissing voice of a stranger had her heart tripping in her chest and her gut sinking to her knees.

“Meri!” she screamed.

Taisiya lunged for her husband as the dark form of the stranger rushed her. Hot, sharp agony stopped her in her tracks. As she gasped in pain, the stench of alcohol and sweat rolled off the stranger. She gripped the hilt of the dagger like a lifeline, nearly blacking out with the pain as he tried to yank the blade from her belly.

“Stubborn bitch!” he snarled.

Ah, gods, she needed to focus. Weakened though she was, she was a Dragonsblood. Lightning was in her blood. She called forth all her quickly dwindling reserves and struck her attacker. The arcing electricity flash-blinded her with its brilliance. It tossed the stranger away on a cry of pain, but wasn’t nearly enough to kill him. Taisiya fell to her knees as the muted thunder rumbled across the open desert.

“Here! Here! I can smell blood!”

Taisiya thought she heard the sound of Bas’ voice.

“He’s running away!” Bas called.

“No, he’s not,” Vasilisa snarled.

A wet scream, cut in half, echoed out.

“Wake up! Wake up, Dad!” Bas howled.

“Just fucking slap him!” Vasilisa commanded.

Taisiya’s head felt heavy as Vasilisa’s sure hands probed her. If her friend hadn’t propped her up in that moment, Taisiya might have fallen over. The only warm parts of her were the searing wound and the hot, sticky blood spilling from between her clenched fingers.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Vasilisa swore.

“Bas? What’s going on?” Mereruka asked in a daze.

“She’s bleeding out! Get over here and heal her!” Vasilisa shrieked.

“Taisiya? Taisiya!” Mereruka gasped. “The blade. It needs to come out!”

“If I take it out, she’ll bleed to death in an instant!” Vasilisa shouted back.

“At the same time, then,” Mereruka ordered. “Bas, hold her steady.”

Arms encircled her from behind like a cage. Vasilisa pried her fingers from the hilt of the blade, her talisman, the only thing keeping her alive. Tears tracked down Taisiya’s cheeks. Every movement was agony, every breath torture.Please, gods, let this be another nightmare.Let me wake up.

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