A Soul for Vengeance

Chapter 30



The kokalla-tainted sherry had run out two days ago. The rebel armies had been spotted yesterday and would be at the walls of Trivinus by nightfall. And Zara was waiting for the moment when her plan would all come together just as she imagined it would.

Originally, she’d planned to wait for all three members to fall into madness and assassinate them by any means possible. The yellow-haired witch and her Gravarian forces had taken care of one of them for her. Now she was left with only two.

She watched them through her lashes as she served them breakfast, looking for the tell-tale signs of withdrawal. Ermane remained as stoic as always, but Decindra was far more interesting. Her face twitched, her movements jerked, her speech becoming pressured and veering off subject at times. And yet, at other times, she appeared to be herself. How long would it take for her to descend into full-blown withdrawals?

Or worse, have someone figure out what was going on in time to stop her?

“What is our status?” Ermane asked as he ate.

Decindra jumped, knocking over her teacup. Zara jumped in to clean it up as she said, “We have, um, about ten thousand men in the city. Wait, make that, five. Or, um…” She massaged her temples and closed her eyes. “We had ten, but then Barsaulus took five with him, leaving us five.”

“And when can we expect backup?”

Her gaze drifted to the mirror. “Not for a week.”

What she wouldn’t give to be able to relay this information to Kell in some way.

“And are we prepared for a long enough siege to withstand the rebels while we wait for our forces to arrive?”

Decindra’s hands trembled. She hid them in her lap under the table. “I’m not sure. We were expecting those supplies to arrive from home, but the rebels—”

Ermane silenced her with a glare. “I hear they have a powerful witch in their midst. We destroy her first. Then, we go after the prince leading them. There’s nothing complicated about what we have to do.”

“I know, Ermane, it’s just—I mean, I can’t—” She bolted from her chair and paced the length of the table. “I’m worried we underestimated them.”

“They’re nothing more than stupid Ranellians. Remember how easily they fell? They’ll fall that way again.” He tossed his napkin down on his plate. “I’m going to speak with my generals. Maybe they’ll be able to tell me what you can’t.”

Decindra continued to fret after he left, constantly moving from one end of the room and muttering to herself. The longer Zara watched her, the happier she became. It wouldn’t be long before she could take out the next member of the Triumvirate. She smiled to herself and piled the empty breakfast dishes on her tray.

“You!” Decindra marched across the room and grabbed Zara’s wrist just above the metal bracelet that marked her as a slave. The dishes shattered on the floor as the tray slipped from her grasp. The Thallian pressed her finger to the metal, heating the metal to the point where it burned into Zara’s flesh. “I thought so. Imposter!”

Zara wrestled away, her eyes stinging from pain of her blistered flesh. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she searched for a weapon. “What are you talking about, my lady?”

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” She pointed her finger at Zara, her eyes burning with hatred. “You switched places with one of the slaves to spy on us, didn’t you?”

Zara backed toward the serving table where the butler kept the serving knifes, struggling to keep her outward demeanor calm when every inch of her muscles tensed in panic. “Why would anyone switch places with a slave? This is all madness.”

“Madness?” Decindra’s eyes widened and stared past Zara. Her mouth fell open. She repeated the word one more time before fury twisted her face into a snarl. “What have you done to me?”

“Nothing, my lady.” She opened the drawer on the serving table, frantically feeling for the knife.

“Liar!”

A bolt of magic whizzed past Zara’s ear, burning a hole in the wall. The next bolt barely missed her, exploding the silver serving dishes instead. Zara darted out of the way, seeking shelter now instead of a weapon.

“I won’t rest until I’ve extracted every bit of rebel information from your head!”

She ducked behind a chair, only to see a plume of smoke rising inches above her head. The sound of feet thundered up the stairs. If Decindra didn’t kill her first, the soldiers would once their leader informed them of her suspicions. Either way, her chances at survival were grim.

Zara closed her eyes and offered a prayer to the Lady Moon that Kell would be successful.

Everything moved in slow motion as she charged around the chair toward Decindra, staying true to her mission. The other woman crumpled under the force of their collision. Zara took advantage of her momentum and lifted Decindra on her shoulder, carrying her toward the window looking out over the courtyard five stories below. The glass shattered. Shards nicked Zara’s skin, but they didn’t stop her. Decindra’s screams drowned out her own. Zara fell forward, catching a glimpse of the hard stones waiting for her.

But someone caught Zara before she tumbled out of the window.

Her body jerked to a stop. She released Decindra, letting her continue the journey down to her death. A splatter ended the Thallian’s screams.

Then the world came rushing back to Zara. She fell back on the floor, her head connected with the hard corner of the serving table. Black dots bloomed in front of her eyes. She saw a flash of metal and prepared to meet death.

But it never came.

Instead, several pairs of rough hands picked her up and bound her in chains, dragging her down the corridor to the cold, merciless surviving member of the Triumvirate, Ermane. He flicked his gaze over her like a man deciding whether or not he wanted to purchase a horse. “My, my, my, quite the troublemaker you are.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and her stomach jumped. The withdrawals were starting to hit him.

“I think it’s time I got some answers from you.” He turned to the soldiers. “Deal with the rebel army. I’m going to take my time making her wish for death.”

The soldiers dropped her like a sack of potatoes, letting her fall. The carpet burned along her cheek as she slid forward. A pair of boots stopped in front of her. Her scarf ripped off, and Ermane pulled her up by the roots of her hair. A presence probed her mind, seeking out information.

“Now tell me everything you know, Zara of Cordello.”

She sucked in a breath. He knew who she was. “I know nothing,” she lied, erasing all the thoughts from her mind so he’d have to dig deep to retrieve any more information.

“Funny, I don’t believe you.”

A storm of magic crackled along his arm and poured into her, stealing the breath from her lungs and locking all her muscles into one agonizing spasm. She couldn’t move, couldn’t even draw in life-sustaining air. Her vision grew dim. She sat on the verge of passing out when he released her. The air burned her raw lungs, turning her first few breaths into bone-rattling coughs.

“Shall we try this again?” Ermane asked.

“I know nothing,” she repeated, refusing to betray those she loved.

He chuckled and hit her with the same spell.

This time, she gladly surrendered to the blackness.