The Queen of Lies (24 page)

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Authors: Michael J. Bode

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: The Queen of Lies
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Cameron looked as if he’d been slapped. “That’s hardly—”

“Fair?” The countess arched her gray eyebrow. “Is it fair that you still have your seat on the Assembly and your business interests while poor Miss Gardner’s life is in ruins for running off with you? I heard she was working in a candle shop of all things. Life isn’t about fairness, Mr. Cameron; it’s about reputation.”

“What happened?” Jessa asked.

Muriel said nothing.

Cameron sighed, “Her fucking twat of a father disowned her because of our love.”

“And you abandoned her?” Jessa asked.

“We drifted apart,” Cameron said. “The candle shop was always her dream, and I made sure she was provided for.”

“I will not have to sell candles.” Jessa frowned. “I don’t care about the money, and I suspect someone with my skills will always have a means to earn coin. I hear the Lowlands have had a particularly dry season, and there’s no shortage of pipes that need to be welded,” she quipped.

“You’ll need a lot of money, Jessa,” Muriel said solemnly. “You’ll need protection from your family, and the services of the Invocari don’t come cheaply. I wish your circumstances allowed for more freedom, but there you have it. I can’t stop you, but I won’t risk my own reputation to support you in this.”

“She’s right,” Cameron said in a low, strained voice. He didn’t look up at her. She could tell by the stoop in his shoulders that his fire was gone. Whatever had transpired between him and Miss Gardner had dredged up a dark cloud of guilt.

“It’s disturbing that you both agree I can’t protect myself,” Jessa said, anger building inside her. “Mother may not have nurtured me or been particularly kind to me, but she did teach me to defend myself. It was my lightning that protected me while your Invocari stood by. I am not Lord Renax. The only people capable of challenging my power are in Thelassus. There’s little they can do to me from there, and I—”

Jessa felt a stabbing pain in her stomach. Pain radiated throughout her body, and she collapsed screaming to the floor. It was like a nest of angry hornets had hatched within her stomach. The agony came relentlessly.

Cameron rushed to help her, but Jessa kicked him back. “Stay away from me!
Get out!
” she shrieked.

Cameron scrambled back. Muriel bit her knuckle and clutched her other hand to her chest. “Do you want me to fetch the healer, dear?”

A thunderous crash filled the room, shaking the floor and furniture. Clocks and curios went flying. The sofa tipped backward, spilling Muriel out on the floor behind her. Her thin legs kicked from the ruffles of her long dress. Cameron was hurled back into an antique end table.

Jessa scratched at the hardwood floor with her nails, as arcs of electricity danced across her skin. The pain ended as quickly as it started, as if it were never there at all.

Cameron rushed to the countess, assisting her off the floor. She looked ashen and disheveled, but she didn’t appear to be hurt.

Jessa stood, her eyes glowing with the cool blue flicker of electrical current. “Someone in my family just passed me their Heritage. Someone close to me. Very close.”

“You should check on your mother,” Muriel offered, trying not to sound pleased.

T
WENTY-
T
WO
Legacy
S
ATRYN

M
Y OLDEST AND
dearest sibling Nasara,

My time among the people of the Protectorate has been enlightening to say the least. I daresay a part of me will miss these people when I return to Thelassus to take my rightful place.

Jessa is serving her purpose masterfully, disarming the Assembly. She plays the part of the hapless pawn better than the Queen of Lies herself. Sometimes she’s so convincing I almost don’t think she could be my blood.

Speaking of which…I wouldn’t wait for Jessa to request your aid. Rothburn’s insolence is an insult to our family that can’t be allowed to stand, but she risks credibility if she addresses it herself. Claim it for your son Nerrax to keep suspicion off my daughter. She must continue to play her part as victim in our family infighting.

 

Pay my respects to Uncle Nash,

Satryn

 

S
ATRYN SURVEYED THE
smoldering ruins of her chambers with evident satisfaction. The center of the bed was a smoking crater, and black scorch marks marred the glowing wards that covered the walls. She picked up one of the chairs and set it on its legs only to see it collapse on a broken leg. “And I was just starting to get settled in. I’ll need all new furnishings.”

The metal door clanked open, and Satryn regarded it defiantly.

“Mother.” Jessa stood in the door wearing a sleeveless white dress that didn’t look half bad on her. The plunging neckline drew the eye toward her cleavage.
Is she fucking someone?

“So you do care,” Satryn cooed. “I was beginning to think you’d never come to visit. But family tragedy has a way of drawing us closer, doesn’t it?”

“What the hells happened?” Jessa lifted the hem of her dress off the floor and marched over to her mother.

“How would I know? I’ve been detained.” Satryn laughed musically.

“And I was enjoying that immensely.”

Satryn backhanded her; it was mostly reflex at this point. Jessa caught her wrist in midair and squeezed. Her silver eyes flared. “You’ll never lay a hand on me again, Satryn.”

Satryn giggled and nodded approvingly. The girl’s reflexes had vastly improved. “Very well, Jessa. I respect your defiance, and I’ll look past your disrespect.” She yanked her hand free of her daughter’s grip and caressed her wrist.

Jessa regarded her flatly. “The empress still sits on the Coral Throne. The Protectorate spies confirmed this hours ago. So if you’re still alive, who was it? Because I destroyed a priceless collection of clocks during the death throes. There was a
burst
. Those only happen for direct ancestors.”

“Probably an uncle,” Satryn said dismissively. “The imperial death rattles are always dramatic affairs. You’ve always been unusually sensitive to them. When your great-uncle Caritas passed, you were just a baby, but I swear you cried for a week.”

“Look at this place!” Jessa put her hands on her hips. “Did you also demolish your chambers at Weatherly Castle? Because Father never told that part of the story. Nor do I remember feeling Great-Aunt Aluria’s death so keenly.”

Satryn threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know what to tell you. I have no idea who it was, and I don’t know why you trashed Muriel’s precious clocks. Perhaps you secretly desired a reprieve from the incessant ticking.”

“Perhaps we should consult with a blood sage then. Magus Quirrus said he found anomalies in your blood, minutes before I felt the passing of a direct relation. Imagine my surprise to learn both you and the empress are still drawing breath.”

Satryn stroked her cheek, but Jessa flinched. “Are you disappointed it wasn’t me?”

“If I wanted you dead, you’d be food for the sharks, Mother.”

Satryn rolled her eyes. “What could you do to me? Poison my wine? No, you wouldn’t even get your hands that dirty.”

“I wouldn’t have to. I’d simply wait till you passed out from your drink and bash in your skull with the heaviest thing I could find.” Jessa folded her arms. “It’s a miracle you’ve managed to survive this long, considering how careless you are.”

“You’re exceptionally moody today,” Satryn said. “Tell me, do you feel the roil of the Everstorm growing within your chest?”

“That must be it,” Jessa said. “It certainly isn’t the frustration of your lies, or the unceremonious discovery that I’m the likely product of inbreeding, or the loss of my home, or the maddening politics of this Assembly, or the child that’s growing inside me. No, my mood is certainly the result of theurgy. What other thing could it
possibly
be?”

“You do manage to surprise me sometimes.” Satryn’s eyes flicked across her daughter’s belly. “That certainly would explain your death rattle. The child bears your power, as you now bear mine. You feel the transition of power for the both of you.”

“The father is an assemblyman,” Jessa said. “We’re in love.”

“Good for you.” Satryn tapped her arm playfully. “I think motherhood would suit you. Or at least give you an appreciation of the sacrifices I’ve had to make.”

Jessa blinked.

“Oh, honestly, Jessa.” Satryn sighed. “Did you think I would be angry? It matters not who the father is. Your child is a Stormlord, for Kultea’s sake. The father could be the bastard of a deckhand’s bastard, and his pedigree would be worth more than all the breeding of the castrated Genatrovan nobility. I couldn’t be happier that you finally get to experience the unremitting hell of ingratitude and disappointment that parenthood brings.“

Jessa turned away sullenly. “I don’t intend to keep the child.”

“Then don’t!” Satryn exclaimed. “You really are exhausting sometimes.”

Jessa headed toward the door. “You managed to teach me that, at least.”

“Wait.”

Jessa stopped.

“Let me see your blade. You may provide some challenge for me now,” Satryn suggested. She reached out her hand and summoned the lightning to her fingertips. The electricity arced and within seconds solidified into a crackling scimitar of lightning.

She gave the Invocari warden a look to let him know this was just a game. “We’re too close in power to hurt each other, and the room is already demolished.”

The Invocari guard nodded silently.

Jessa turned and held out her hand. At first the electricity was rough and crude—a shapeless, forking mass of blue light in the shape of a blade. But to her amazement, the energy condensed into a rapier, complete with cup hilt. It was delicate but elegantly constructed.

Satryn put one hand behind her back then held out her own blade.

Jess laughed despite herself. “It’s so easy to maintain.” She quickly flicked the sparkling rapier back and forth as her shadow danced behind her. She raised her blade and approached Satryn, her off hand resting against the small of her back.

Satryn executed a series of slow, easy strikes, letting Jessa parry. The sparks flew from their blades like dazzling confetti. “You know, when I was pregnant with you, I swore I’d never be like my mother.”

Jessa lunged, testing Satryn’s parry. “You mean bitchy and cavillous?”

Satryn twirled her scimitar. “I barely knew her. I was raised by priests and an older sister who despised my very existence. The empress had no time for the folly of children.”

“So she never came into your room in the middle of the night, drunk and raving about her sexual exploits? I pity you.” Jessa lunged again, this time harder. Her attacks were quick and angry but also clumsy and easily parried. She executed a flurry of strikes as Satryn effortlessly deflected them and stepped out of the way.
She’s better than Sireen at least
.

“Mothers are supposed to feel connected to their offspring. I know this.” Satryn spun and slashed at Jessa as she twirled forward, bringing her blade high and low in alternating cadence.

Jessa staggered back at first but managed to parry some of the blows as she caught on to the rhythm of Satryn’s attack. “Do you? Because you’ve said on multiple occasions that attachment makes us weak.”

“Attachment to weaker things, yes.” Satryn pressed harder, raining blows with greater quickness. “But I didn’t close myself off. I simply never had that feeling to give you. I wanted to feel it, Jessa. I really did. But even as you were growing inside me, all I could think about was how I was expected to treasure this helpless little parasite. How could I put your needs before my own happiness when no one ever had shown me that courtesy?”

“Then why even give birth to me?” Jessa slashed viciously with her rapier, cutting through Satryn’s scimitar and forcing her mother to take a delicate step backward while she reconstituted her blade.

Satryn crouched. “It was expected of me, and you pleased your father. He and I had a complicated relationship.”

Jessa pointed her rapier at Satryn’s heart. “Did you kill him?”

“He was a feckless ruler and an insufferable idealist, but I would have respected him enough to give him a king’s death rather than watch him waste away like he did.”

Satryn charged and raised her blade in an uppercut strike. Jessa caught the edge of the strike on the handguard of her conjured rapier and thrust it down. It withstood the blow and stopped her momentum.

“Everyone will betray you eventually, Jessa,” Satryn said. “Siblings betray you, parents abandon you, husbands die, friends leave, and children end up hating you. Even the goddess herself will turn a deaf ear in your darkest moments. You have only yourself in this world.”

Jessa banished her weapons. Her eyes were wet with tears. “I wish you’d just tell me what you’re playing at. I don’t know what to do, Mother. Please, for once in your life, can you just—”

Satryn gave a wan smile. “Do whatever the fuck you want, dear. You’re an elemental
goddess
among men now, and it’s high time you started acting like it instead of waiting for others to decide your fate. Just set a course and don’t falter. You can’t fail unless you abandon your conviction.”

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