A Soul for Vengeance (31 page)

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Zara ran through the kitchen, holding the heavy pot of steaming soup out in front of her. It was time to serve dinner to the Triumvirate, and they were down to the last seconds. She poured the soup into the silver tureen she’d spent an hour polishing this morning. “Where’s Maria?”

“She twisted her ankle,” one of the other maids replied, squatting next to the tearful woman. “Someone else will have to bring the food up.”

“Sagalia, you do it,” Liverna, the head cook ordered as she hurried to add the finishing touches to the meal. “Get on the lift with the soup now so the Triumvirate won’t be kept waiting.”

Zara’s heart pounded. She’d been in the castle for almost two weeks, and she’d yet to lay eyes on the Thallian leaders. She’d managed to continue tainting their sherry, retrieving a larger bag week after week from the secret compartment in Niestro’s home where she’d hidden her supply. The dangerous trips to the cellar in the dead of night always left her nerves frazzled, but the knowledge that she was helping Kell soothed her by the time she returned to her bed. She offered a quick prayer to the Lady Moon they wouldn’t see through her ruse.

The Thallians had added a series of lifts throughout the castle that carried objects and people up and down the towers without having to use the stairs. Two men cranked the cog-wheeled mechanism that powered the open box-like structure from one floor to the next. Zara stepped into it with the soup and focused on pretending to be a demure servant.

Another slave ushered her into the Triumvirate’s private dining room when she reached their floor. “Just in time. I hate it when they get upset about us being late.”

Disobedient or disappointing slaves were all treated to the same punishment—two days without meals. The hunger alone would be a deterrent for most people, but withdrawal from the kokalla was what the slaves all feared.

Zara entered the room, all too aware of the stains on her apron and the sweat soaking her scarf along her forehead. Maria was a personal maid to the Triumvirate—she never looked as dirty and disheveled as Zara felt right now.

“Who are you?” Decindra, the lone female member of the Triumvirate asked. “Where’s our normal maid?”

Zara lowered her eyes and set the soup on the serving table. “Maria twisted her ankle,” she replied, adjusting her accent so she sounded as common born as the other slaves. “Cook sent me so you wouldn’t be kept waiting.”

Judging by the wrinkle-nosed sneer on Decindra’s face, Zara might be getting her first taste of the withdrawals by this time tomorrow night. Her stomach flopped as she ladled the soup into the fine china bowls for the liveried butler to carry to the table.

“Calm down, Decindra,” the younger man, Barsaulus, said. “Even with all the dirt, this girl’s prettier than the other one. Perhaps it’s time we replace Maria with someone new.”

The flop in her stomach quickly turned into a nauseating knot. She’d heard whispers around the kitchen that Thallians would never force themselves on one of the slaves, but the girls who willingly entered their beds got preferential treatment. Girls like Maria.

And based on the way the youngest member of the Triumvirate was looking at her, he was inviting her to do the same.

Which was a far cry from the cold stares the other two members of the Triumvirate were giving her.

“If you are sent to serve us again,” the older man, Ermane, stated in a voice as hard as his glare, “please make sure you look respectable enough to be in our presence.”

Her cheeks burned. A year ago, she’d been the one being served. A year ago, she’d sat at a table like this, dining on delicacies and drinking fine wine. A year ago, she’d worn clean, butter-soft wool and silk dresses with dried mountain lilacs sewn into the seam, not the scratchy, stinky coarse linen she wore now. She was so removed from the lady she’d once been that her parents would probably be ashamed to claim her as their daughter if they were still alive.

Remember why you’re here. Remember what your mission is
.

She bowed her head to them and scurried back to the lift. Let someone else deliver the rest of the meal if she was too sullied for their liking. The only good thing from the experience was the fact they all had small glasses of sherry in front of them.

She was elbow deep in soapy water washing the night’s dishes when she learned that Barsaulus had requested a change in their private maid to her.

Zara inhaled slowly, taking in the consequences of the news with the air. She’d be closer than ever to the enemy, able to overhear their conversations and possibly pass on information to her brother and Kell. She’d also become subject to their scrutiny several times a day, not to mention be under pressure to warm Barsaulus’s bed as thanks for the elevation in her status. She’d rather slit his throat while he slept than let him touch her.

As she released her breath, she wondered if this would become a blessing or a curse.

A new wave of longing engulfed her when she crawled into her bed that night. Right then, she missed the steadiness of Kell’s arms more than ever. She wished she could whisper her fears to him and have him ease them with a few words and a kiss, letting her know everything would work out in the end. But until she completed her mission to bring down the Triumvirate, she had no hope of ever knowing that peace again.

Chapter 26

Arden stood between Dev and the captain of their ship, her hands holding onto the wheel with a white-knuckled grip. The Gravarian sailors claimed to know nothing about steering their way into Illyrus, so she’d foolishly volunteered to guide them into the harbor. Of course, that meant asking Loku for help.
“I’m not seeing their mermaid’s chest.”

“I can,”
Loku answered.
“She’s so much more well-endowed than you.”

“This is not a time for jokes, Loku
.
”
Her sweat-damp palms threatened to slip off the wheel.
“If I don’t navigate this ship safely through the straits, the whole armada is in danger.”

“Very well, I’ll show you.”

A thin veil descended over her vision, bathing her surroundings in a greenish light. There, as clear as day in front of her, was a pile of rocks that resembled a mermaid bathing in the sun. A pair of invisible hands wrapped around her own and guided her through the straits.

“There,”
he said, his voice reverberating through her body,
“that wasn’t so hard. If you ever need my help again, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Her vision returned to normal. She shook off the last traces of the chaos god’s touch and found Dev frowning at her. “What now?”

He stepped down onto the main deck without answering her and leaned on the railing.

Arden handed the wheel back to the captain and followed him. “Why are you so against me asking Loku for help now and then?”

“Remember—he never gives you something without taking something in return.”

“All he did was show me the landmark,” she lied. “Nothing more.”

“I’m not stupid, Arden. I’ve been protecting Soulbearers for a century now, and I know the signs of when he’s taking control of your body.” He kept his words in that low and even way that always set her on edge. “Varrik’s taught you how to contain him, but it will only work if you maintain enough control of yourself to cast the spell.”

“Any advice on how to do that?” The few times Loku had seized control of her without her permission, she felt like she’d been drowning.

“Find something that grounds you, that makes you remember who you are.” He brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face, his green eyes clouded with worry. “I don’t want you to end up like the others.”

“I won’t,” she promised and stepped into his embrace. She’d waited too long for a chance at happiness with him, and now that she had it, she intended to make the most of it. She refused to fall into the trap of insanity that Loku offered.

“Ah, you two are so sweet together, I might vomit
.
”

Arden flinched at the sound of Loku’s voice. Normally, he remained silent when she was alone with Dev.
“I thought you wanted me to be with Dev.”

“I wanted you to tease him and drive him crazy. Chaos, remember? Now look at him. He actually looks happy. I might actually keel over and die if he gives you one more smile.”

Arden grinned. Dev’s smiles were few and far between, bordering on the subtle side. But she’d noticed other small changes in him since he’d finally revealed his feelings to her. He seemed less distant, less cynical. Gone was the frustrating tension between them that usually ended in a fight. Now, it usually ended with them tangled in the sheets and completely sated.

“You’re a god, Loku. You can’t die.”

“No, but I can wish I was dead. Where’s a Flower of Lireal when you need one?”
he asked, referring to the rare flower used to create a serum that could destroy souls.
“Do you have any idea of the faces you two make when you’re together?”

Unease crawled up her spine. It didn’t matter that Loku had been silent while she and Dev had been as intimate as two people could be. She always had a voyeur.
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t pay attention.”

“I wish I could, but since I don’t have a body of my own, I have to live vicariously through you.”

Dev looked down at her. “What’s he saying?”

“He’s ranting about how unfair his life is.” She shrugged, pushing his voice deeper into the back of her mind as the coast of Ranello came into view. “I have more important things to worry about.”

“I agree. And if we can get through this without Loku, all the better.” He pointed to her mirror pendant, his expression becoming unreadable. The rarest hint of jealousy colored his words as he said, “Perhaps you should let Kell know we’ve arrived.”

“I will, but first I want to do this.” She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer until their lips met.

Dev tensed at first, but slowly gave into her, deepening the kiss until he pulled away with that contented half smile she’d come to love. “Any reason why you felt the need to kiss me in front of everyone?”

“You looked worried, and I wanted to reassure you.” She pressed her forehead against his and added softly, “My heart is yours, Dev, now and always.”

“The same,” he replied in a dry, no-nonsense tone, but the passion in his eyes told her much more than his words ever could. “I’ll go speak to the captain about getting everyone to shore.”

She pulled out her pendant and contacted Kell. His smile widened when he saw her, but it didn’t erase the new lines furrowed into his brow or the dark circles under his eyes. The stress of leading the rebellion was wearing on him. “Arden, so good to see you again.”

“And you, too, Kell. I wanted to let you know we’ve arrived at Illyrus.”

“You’re a day earlier than we expected.”

“We had strong winds and not a sign of a storm. Please thank Zara for recommending this route.”

“I will.” His smile faded, and the pain in his eyes tugged at her heart. The only other time she’d seen something like that with Kell was when she refused his proposal, and her heart ached for him.

When she finally had a chance to talk to him in person, she’d have to inquire more about Zara. For now, she was willing to change the subject. “It might take us a couple of days to unload the ships and prepare everything for travel. But once we’re ready, where do you want us to go?”

“Go straight to Trivinus. We’ll meet you along the way.” He lowered the mirror a few inches as though this was the end of the conversation, only to pause and add, “It’s good to have you back in Ranello, Arden.”

Hopefully, the others felt that way too. She remembered all too well how many of the kingdom’s noblemen were willing to sacrifice her to Sulaino. “Thank you, Kell.”

The image in the mirror then morphed into her own reflection.

She tucked the mirror into her bodice and watched the commotion on deck. A sense of anticipation pounded through her veins and fluttered in her stomach as the sailors dropped the anchor in the bay. She was home, but would it even resemble the Ranello she left behind?

Chapter 27

Zara polished the last spoon and set it on the table, her gaze fixed on the guard at the door. Since being elevated to one of the Triumvirate’s personal maids, she’d been aching for a moment to pore through their personal papers, to catch a hint of their plans, to glean a fragment of information that might help the rebellion. However, she hadn’t been able to find a moment alone in their personal rooms without a guard watching her every move. She might have been able to sneak into the castle without notice, but the Thallians seemed to be very cognizant of possible spies in their midst.

She finished the final touches on setting the table and was about to leave when Barsaulus entered. He grinned at her as though he could see through her layers of clothes. “Step outside,” he ordered the guard and pulled the door closed behind them. “You’re looking lovelier with each passing day, Sagalia.”

She lowered her eyes, searching for a weapon in the process in case he tried something unwanted. If needed, she could always stab him with one of the forks. “Thank you, my lord.”

She edged toward the door, but he blocked her escape and came toward her. “What’s the rush?”

“I need to finish preparing everything for your dinner,” she mumbled, backing up to stay out of his reach.

“You know, I arranged for you to come up here from the kitchen.”

“Thank you, my lord.” The back of her thighs hit the table. Her pulse jumped. She was cornered, and if he came any closer, she’d be forced to end this conversation in a way that would result in either death or withdrawals. But she refused to become his toy. She reached behind her for the silverware, her hand closing around one of the forks.

Barsaulus laughed. “Are you that afraid of me, little Sagalia?” He took a step back, widening the gap between them. “Is that better?”