Page 175 of Scorched Earth
“Get back to the house,” he said to the dog. “Bercola’s right that this is no place for you.”
The dog barked, then bolted toward the manor. Killian gave the shadows one last look, then followed him.
Kitaryiahad a breakfast to attend, and the queen needed her bodyguard.
“She doesn’t play with her spectacles like that,” Killian muttered. “Even when they slide down her nose, she doesn’t notice.”
“No one besides you will know that,” Dareena answered under her breath. “And perhaps give me some credit: wearing these things is giving me a bloody headache, I’ve nearly fallen down the stairs twice in this dress, and these damnable heels have resulted in me cracking my head twice in doorways. You haven’t had to doanything.”
Which was entirely the problem. Lydia and his friends were risking their lives, and he was guarding the one woman in the nation who needed protection the least.
Which would have been hard enough, except every god-marked instinct in Killian’s body was screaming that Lydia was in danger. And he was powerless to help her.
“I feel it, too.” Dareena tightened her grip on his arm as they walked down the path running alongside the horse pasture, Lena and Gwen following behind. “We’re running out of time, and instead of being north on the front lines fighting blighters, I’m attending a picnic.” She shook her head. “It feels as though we are in some strange bubble, horror all around us, and that at any moment, the bubble will pop.”
As Dareena spoke, a strong northerly wind blew over them, bitterly cold, and carrying with it the faint stench of rot that briefly overwhelmed the scent of flowers.
“Do you believe they’ll find the information they seek?” Dareena asked, looking northward. It occurred to him that this was the firsttime the woman who’d mentored him had ever shown doubt. Had ever looked to him for answers.
“If there’s a way, Lydia and Malahi will find it.” He fell silent as they approached the pavilions set up in the middle of the garden to block the heat of the sun. Beneath stood an array of colorfully dressed nobles, all drinking and laughing as though they’d no care in the world. His mother wore a gown of midnight blue against the sea of pastels; Adra and Seldrid were also dressed in grim colors. A speck of grim reality in this farce, and Killian steered Dareena toward them, all the nobility dropping into low bows and curtsies as Her Royal Majesty, Queen Kitaryia Falorn was announced.
Dareena gave small nods as she passed them, sweat beading on the heavy paint she wore on her face. Northerners rarely tolerated the heat of Serlania well, though it hadn’t seemed to trouble Lydia much. Killian’s jaw tightened when he noticed a tiny smear in the healer tattoo painted on Dareena’s forehead. This act wouldn’t work much longer, but Lydia was already on theKairenseand on her way across the strait.
His mother curtsied as they stopped before her. “Your Grace.”
“Lady Anne,” Dareena said in a soft voice. “Your gardens are lovely.”
“I confess, it feels bittersweet to stand in the beauty of nature when so much of Mudamora has fallen to blight,” his mother replied. “I pray to the Six that Mudamora will soon be restored through Lady Malahi’s efforts.”
“I pray for this as well.”
Hacken approached, Ria again on his arm. Yet it was not his brother whom Killian found his attention drawn to, but the High Lady Rowenes. Her typically sand-hued complexion was blanched of color, almost waxy in texture, and sweat dampened her blond hair. She wore a high-necked and long-sleeved red brocade gown, and her underarms were also darkened with sweat. As she curtsied, Ria swayed, appearing ready to topple over at any moment. Her voice was tight as she murmured, “Your Grace.”
Dareena’s eyes narrowed behind Lydia’s spectacles. “Are you well, Ria?”
“Too much wine last night, I’m afraid.” Ria gave a tight smile, her knuckles white where she clutched Hacken’s elbow. “I now pay for the indulgence.”
The musicians under one of the pavilions began to play and the servants to circulate with trays of chilled lemonade. Killian took one for Dareena, who sipped at it while beads of sweat cut marks through her face paint. Ria also took one, though she gulped it down.
“I received word that Malahi successfully boarded a ship and is journeying across the strait to Revat.” Hacken extracted his arm from Ria’s grip, smoothing the damp and crumpled fabric.
“My messenger will arrive in advance of her,” Adra said. “My uncle will ensure that she receives the full support of the library guild. If there is an answer to be had, they will find it.”
Killian barely heard him. Ria had started to tremble, and his mark was screaming warning. “Ria, have you—”
Ria abruptly groaned, then doubled over, vomiting up the contents of her stomach onto the green grass.
“My gods!” Hacken leapt back, scowling at the splatters on his shoes.
Killian ignored the mess, catching hold of Ria as she started to sway and lowering her to the ground.
“I don’t feel well.” Tears ran down her face. “What’s wrong with me?”
“It’s blight poisoning.”
Killian turned his head to see Lena staring at the High Lady with a grim expression that confirmed his fears.
“No,” Ria moaned, the musicians falling silent.
