“Your queen not cruel?”
Reva recalled the sight of the queen sinking her dagger into the Volarian’s chest back on the ship, her instant and complete change of demeanour as his body was thrown over the side. “She is fierce in her dedication to our cause, it being just.”
“You think she win this war?” Lieza’s tone held a distinctly dubious note.
“With help.” Reva felt her eyelids grow heavy, the heat of the water and the strain of her recent exertions combining to overwhelm her. She turned back to the edge of the bath, resting her head on her arms. “There is a man, a friend of mine.” She found herself smiling. “My elder brother, in any way that matters. If I can survive here long enough for word to reach him, he will come for me.” She closed her eyes, voice fading to a whisper. “Though I would not have him risk any more on my account . . .”
She let it fade away, the arena, the Empress’s fond smile, losing herself in the water’s warm embrace, letting it seep into her, soothing, caressing . . .
She jerked awake, Lieza’s hands vanishing from her shoulders as she reared back in alarm. “You . . . tense,” she said. “I know how to make it go away.” She raised her hands, flexing the fingers, then slowly reached out to trace her nails through Reva’s hair.
“Don’t.” Reva took hold of her hand, hating the electric thrill provoked by the feel of her skin, gently pushing it away. “Please.”
“I not your slave,” Lieza said. “I willing . . .”
“I can’t.” Reva fought down a wave of self-reproach at the regret in her voice. “There is someone, someone who waits for me.”
She pushed herself to the steps and climbed out of the bath, moving to the bed and covering herself with a sheet. She slumped against a pillar, keeping her gaze from Lieza, who she knew would be staring after her, sinking to the marble floor with a whisper, “Loyalty is all I have left to give her.”
? ? ?
She awoke in darkness, Lieza slumbering next to her, still naked and absent any coverings. She had washed her own clothes after finishing with Reva’s and left them to dry. “No other place to sleep,” she said, hovering by the bed after dimming the lamps.
Reva turned onto her side, facing away. “Then sleep.”
Lieza groaned as Reva rose, eyes tracking to the near-invisible door, realising she had been woken by the sound of the lock turning. She rose from the bed, tossing a sheet over Lieza’s distracting form and retrieving her still-damp clothes. She managed to drag them on by the time the door opened to reveal Varulek, standing with oil lamp in hand. Reva blinked in surprise as she realised he was alone and the tunnel behind him free of Kuritai.
Careful, she cautioned herself against the instinctive impulse to rush the black-clad. He would not come here defenceless.
So she stood in silence as he entered, his gaze sweeping across the chamber, pausing only slightly at the sight of Lieza’s partial nakedness. His face was tense with well-controlled but palpable fear, the face of a man forcing himself to unavoidable duty, an expression she knew well.
“I have something to show you,” he said, voice kept to a whisper.
Reva said nothing but gave a pointed glance at the empty tunnel beyond the door.
“If you find no interest in what I offer,” he said, following her gaze, “killing me would be the greatest favour.”
A blow to the temple to put him down, another to crush his larynx and prevent him screaming. Cover his nose and mouth as he chokes to death. Wake the girl and find a route out of this place of horrors. All so easy. But there was something in his gaze that gave her pause, another expression she also knew well, having seen it so many times at Alltor. Hope. He sees hope in me.
“The Father takes a dim view of betrayal,” she said, reaching for her shoes. “And so do I.”
? ? ?
The lamplight was meagre, forcing her to keep close to him as he led her along the tunnel to a small door, working a heavy iron key in the lock and hauling it aside. The stairwell beyond was narrow, the steps and walls roughly hewn and lacking the precision evident in every line of the arena.
“This father you speak of,” he said as they descended the stairs, “he is your god?”
“The only god, who made us so we might know his love.” She stifled a cough at the mustiness of the air, growing thicker by the step. The air smelt of little save dust, but had the close, cloying feel unique to places rarely visited.
“Ah,” Varulek said in recognition. “The Alltorian heresy, expunged in the Cleansing. So the followers of the Six Books found a new home in your Realm.”
“Ten Books,” she corrected. Though I promised them an eleventh. “Are you saying my people came from this land?”
“The Cleansing forced thousands to flee across the ocean. Questers, Ascendants, Acolytes of Sun and Moon. Though your people were among the most numerous, along with the Servants of the Dead.”