Agrippa grinned. “Malahi’s not helpless. Far from it.”
Rising from where her hands had been pressed against the charred earth, Malahi drew back her hood and approached. Not Lydia, but Killian.
Though he’d seen her briefly in Helatha, Killian had not at the time fully appreciated the horror that had been enacted upon Mudamora’s queen. Her skin was sallow, the shadows beneath her eyes so dark it made them appear sunken. Her once lustrous blond hair had been roughly cut, though patches of it were gone entirely, her scalp scabbed where the hair had been ripped out. All her fingernails were missing, and her hands were covered with livid scratches. But worst of all was the livid wound stretching from her hairline to her chin that had been badly stitched together.
Malahi had been tortured, and for all Killian wouldn’t change his choice to go after Lydia at Alder’s Ford, there was no denying thatnoneof this would have happened to Malahi if he’d done his duty and remained at her side.
There were no words that could undo the harm done to her, but still his lips parted. “Malahi, I—”
She held up her hand. “Don’t. I have no interest in hearing it. What is done is done, and I desire to focus on the future, not on the past, because it will be in the future where we win or lose this war against evil. I refuse to go toward that battle with someone I can’t trust to put me first at my back. Therefore, Killian Calorian, you are released from your obligations and oaths to me. In truth, you were never free to give them, for you were sworn to Princess Kitaryia Falorn—Lydia—long before you and I ever met. I am grateful for all that you have done to liberate me from Ru—” Her voice caught, and she swallowed hard. “From Rufina. But your path is no longer at my side; it’s at Lydia’s.”
Shock radiated through Killian, but Malahi allowed him no response as she turned to kneel before Lydia.
“Malahi…” Agrippa reached for the queen with the obvious intent to pull her back, but he stilled as she cast a slight smile over her shoulder.
“What happened to me not being helpless?”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t make bad choices on occasion.” Hegrimaced. “I said I would have your back as long as you needed, so at your back is where you will find me until you tell me to piss off.”
Malahi’s smile grew, then fell away as her focus returned to Lydia, who had stopped struggling against the implacable vines. “You were right.”
Lydia said nothing, only watched the queen.
“In those brief moments we spoke in Helatha, I claimed a higher road in my refusal to betray Yara’s gift to the Corrupter’s influence and you said that doing nothing was also a betrayal. I hated you for saying that. Hated you for so many reasons, if I am being honest. But in the days since, I have come to see that you were right. We have both acted in ways that have given our enemy power, you in a desperate attempt to be strong, and me in conceding defeat. We have both erred.”
Killian said nothing, didn’t so much as move, for Lydia was listening.
“I didn’t want to fight,” Malahi said softly. “I wanted to hide. To crawl back under the bed in my prison and slowly fade, because I felt as though everything about me that had value had been destroyed. I was weak. Broken.Ugly.”
Agrippa made a noise of protest, but Malahi held up a hand to silence any interruption.
“All those things are true,” she continued, “and yet Rufina has pursued me at all costs to try to get me back. Why would she do so if I held no value? If I could not make a difference to Mudamora? Perhaps it is strange, but seeing proof of how much Rufina values me allowed me to value myself. I am weak, broken, and ugly, but I am not yet defeated.”
To Killian’s horror, Malahi reached out and clasped Lydia’s hand. He lunged to pull her away, but Agrippa blocked his path. “If she wants help, she’ll ask.”
Lydia’s eyes fixed on the hand holding hers, but Malahi’s battered fingers showed no sign that Lydia was draining any of her life.
“I think you keep allowing the dark part of you to take control because you believe you are weak. Because you know you aren’t a warrior. Because you think it’s the only way to protect those you care about,” the queen said. “Yet ask yourself this, Lydia: Why would the Corrupter give his enemy a tool that made them stronger?”
Silence hung in the air, the tension as thick as the smoke from the fires that still burned around them. Then Malahi’s hand began to heal, the scratches disappearing and the torn nail beds becoming whole.
Lydia let go of Malahi, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, and her eyes…
Were once again green.
Relief flooded Killian’s veins even as Agrippa muttered, “Fuck me, she did it.” Whichshehe meant, Killian didn’t know, and didn’t really care, because Lydia was herself again.
“I’m sorry,” Lydia said hoarsely. “I…”
“Don’t waste breath on apologies.” Malahi pressed her healed hand to the earth and the roots unraveled from around Lydia’s body, disappearing beneath the ground. “The enemy sees you as a threat, and it can’t just be because of your name. We need to discover what it is they think you can do.”
“She can heal people infected with blight.” Killian blurted out the truth. “Lena was infected, and Lydia saved her.”
Malahi’s eyes widened. “How?”
“It’s only possible in the short time between infection and death, and it nearly killed me.” Lydia climbed unsteadily to her feet. “But it’s why I think a tender might be able to do the same thing for the land, we need only figure out how.”
It bothered Killian how easily she dismissed her own value, refusing to recognize that she’d accomplished something no one else had even tried. Why didn’t she see that as the strength it was?