“But Remy said marques have wings on their backs from birth, like a brand. I’ve seen your back—”
“The force of Rielle’s death threw the entire world out of alignment. Many things do not look as they once did. And whatever proof was left on my flesh, the Prophet made sure to eradicate it.”
The darkness in his voice made Eliana bristle. “Who is this man, anyway? The Prophet. What did he do to you?”
Simon touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “My queen worries for me. Be still, my wicked black heart.”
“As your queen,” she interrupted, her voice only a little unsteady, “I could have you hanged for touching me without my consent. Isn’t that right?”
He lowered his hand at once, but Eliana caught it and pressed his palm against her cheek. “I could also order you to stay as close as I please.”
His eyes never leaving hers, he knelt at her feet. “As my queen commands, so shall I obey.”
“Your life is mine,” she whispered, sliding his hand down her face and throat, coming to rest against her necklace. Through the thin fabric of her nightgown, his fingers burned her skin.
“To do with as you will, Eliana,” he said softly. “Then, now, and always.”
With her free hand she reached for him. “Come here,” she said, drawing him up to meet her. So near to him, she could think of nothing else—not her mother or this world of war and black-eyed angels or the storm still tingling under her skin. His fingers brushed against the dip of her waist, and she closed her eyes, grief and desire twining sharply up her spine.
“Please, Simon.” She breathed in and slowly out. Her eyes burned, her tears near and precarious. It had been too long since she had been held, since she had come apart at the touch of another’s hands, and suddenly she craved that release so ferociously that her head spun. “If it wouldn’t hurt you too much—”
“I don’t care about that.” He slid his hands into her hair, and the careful caress made her shiver. “I care about nothing else but you.”
She moved into him, clutching his shirt to pull him closer. The heat of him beneath her palms cleared her tired mind, sharpened the aching edges of her body. “Is there another room nearby?”
His thumbs touched her cheeks, reverent and feather-soft. But his eyes blazed. “Mine is just down the hall—”
“Ah! There you are.”
Eliana jumped back as Zahra emerged from the rafters overhead.
Simon hissed out a curse and glared up at the ceiling. “Wraith, can you not enter and exit rooms through the doors, like everyone else does?”
“What would that matter, since you wouldn’t be able to see me even if I did?” Zahra floated down to sit beside Eliana. “Anyway, my way is so much more fun.”
Simon stormed off, dragging a hand through his hair.
Eliana tore her eyes away from him with no small effort, heat blooming in her cheeks. “Zahra. It’s good to see you.”
Zahra raised an eyebrow, her inkblot mouth curving. “Is it, my queen?”
“Of course it is.” She brushed her fingers through Zahra’s wrist. “I’m grateful for your help out there.”
“I know you are,” replied Zahra, beaming. “I’ve brought a message for you from Prince Malik. He’s coming up with his fathers shortly, to thank you for what you did and to begin discussing…what comes next.”
Zahra’s eyes flickered to Simon.
“And what is that?” Eliana followed the wraith’s gaze to where Simon stood half in shadow, watching the fire. “What comes next?”
Remy sat up, a blanket clutched around his shoulders and his cheek pink from sleep. “We fight him,” he said simply. “We fight the Emperor.” He looked up at Simon. “Right?”
Simon’s mouth quirked. “Something like that.”
Eliana watched Remy smile with an ache in her heart. He looked so like Rozen. Same sharp little nose, same bright eyes. She would have to tell him—and soon:
Our mother is dead, and I’m the one who killed her.
She would lose him the moment the words left her lips.
Remy saw her dismay before she could hide it. He left his blankets at once and squished himself on the bed beside her.
“It’s all right, El,” he told her, taking her hand. “No matter what happens, no matter what they say, you’re still mine.”
Eliana glared at Simon. “What did you tell him?”
“Navi told me who you are,” said Remy, jutting out his chin. “She said I could handle it, and I can.”
Eliana brushed a hand across his wild dark bangs. “Remy, this story of theirs… It could be nothing. It might not even be true.”
“Think about it,” he said. “Your body could heal itself, and we never knew why. But it was because all that power was trapped sleeping inside you, and it didn’t have anything to do, so instead it fixed you up whenever it could. It makes perfect sense.”
Simon chuckled. “An interesting way to describe it.”
Triumphant, Remy grinned at her. “I knew you were special, El. I’ve always known that.”
“God, Remy.” She rubbed her face. “Please stop—”
“Let him speak if he wants to,” Simon said. “Especially since he’s right.”
“But if he’s right, I’m what, exactly?” She threw up her hands. “A general? A freak?”
“A savior,” Simon answered. “A symbol. A queen.”
“But I don’t know how to do this!” Her voice was turning desperate. Good. She felt desperate. “How to fight the Emperor? I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
Or if I even want to try.
Fighting to save friends and allies was one thing. But fighting for the world was not a task she appreciated having dropped in her lap.
Zahra looked curiously at her. She knew the wraith could sense what she was thinking, and she didn’t care.
“I’ll help you,” Simon said, still watching the fire. “You won’t be alone in this. Not for a moment.”
She stiffened. “What if you fail me?”
“I won’t.”
“What if I fail?”
“Then we’re doomed even more completely than we already were. But at least we’ll have tried, hmm?”
“Tell me this, then,” Eliana said, “if you’re so confident: Will I be like her?”
The fire painted Simon’s piercing blue gaze a flickering amber. “Like your mother?”
Beside her, Remy flinched.
“Like the Blood Queen,” Eliana said sharply.
“Will you be like her? That’s a question I can’t answer. Only time can do so. And you.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
At the bitter note in her voice, Simon turned and watched her for a long moment. When he spoke again, it was gentle. “I’ll tell Malik to wait a few hours before your meeting with the kings. You can rest, talk with Remy. I’ll send for food.”
She shook her head, cutting him off. She couldn’t talk to Remy, not yet. And hours of waiting would make the inevitable feel even worse than it already did.
“Food, yes,” she said, “and lots of it. But after that…bring the kings to me.” Then she rose to her feet and told the first lie of her new life: “I’m ready to begin.”
Elements in the Empirium Trilogy
In Celdaria, Rielle’s kingdom, the Church is the official religious body. Citizens worship in seven elemental temples that stand in each Celdarian city. Temples range from simple altars in a single, small room to the elaborate, lavish temples of the capital city, me de la Terre. Similar religious institutions exist in nations around the world of Avitas. In Eliana’s time, most elemental temples have been destroyed by the Undying Empire, and few people still believe in the Old World stories about magic, the saints, and the Gate.
Acknowledgments
Fourteen years ago, I had an idea for a book and decided I wanted to be a writer.
Fourteen years is a long time, and there are many people I need to thank for helping me realize my dream and helping Furyborn become the book it is today.
First, to Diana Fox, who pulled my original Furyborn query from the slush pile, generously (and gently) explained to me just how much work I needed to do, and helped me get started in this industry. To you, Diana, I am forever grateful.