~ 9 ~
She straightened. “And you didn’t know.”
“Correct. Varian bribed the mine operator, who was reporting to him. The miner who made the actual discovery had died in a fall, his death ruled an accident, and the town was already half abandoned as people were leaving to seek out opportunities in other places. If Kris had signed that lease, all the proceeds from the mine would have been Guerlan’s for a hundred years.”
Outrage flashed across her face. “What happened next?”
“Kris lost his temper.” Wulf sat up too and crossed his arms over upraised knees. “I’d been in command of his army for several years, but he insisted on leading a force himself to confront the mine operator. My job was to finish rooting out all the other Guerlan spies in our mining operations. He headed out just before midsummer. That was the last time I saw him alive, or any of the troops that went with him. We’ve recovered most of the bodies, but we haven’t found Kris’s yet.”
She touched his hand. “I can hear how much you loved your brother by the way you talk about him. Do you know what caused the avalanche?”
“We found residues of oil, and my witches say there was some kind of magic compounded with it. And I have a heavy weight of evidence that proves Varian’s been spying on Braugne for years and conspiring to steal our resources.” Tightening his hands into fists, he added between clenched teeth, “So yes, I have more than enough to justify marching on Guerlan, and I plan on ramming the evidence down Varian’s throat when I get there.”
“I see.” She started to say something else but was interrupted by a knock on her door. She froze and stared at him.
The knock sounded again, and she jumped.
After tensing, Wulf relaxed again and spread his hands. He had taken the risk in coming, and now he had to go with it. He had to trust her.
“You need to answer that,” he told her. “If you don’t, they’ll panic and break down your door.”
As if he had lit a fire under her, she jumped to her feet. “Just a moment—I’m coming!” she shouted. She glanced at the chocolate wrappers, the can, and the empty jars strewn on the floor and threw up her hands. Then she whirled to look at his equipment by the wall. Pointing to an open doorway, she hissed, “Quick—grab your stuff and go into my bedroom!”
Even as he sprang into action, he bit back a smile. Yes, it might have been a risk, but he had known he could rely on her. Scooping up his things, he loped through the doorway into a darkened room, glided quietly to a stop against one wall, and listened.
Wood scraped as she unbarred and opened the door. “What is it, Margot?”
Ah, the Chosen’s ever-annoying prime minister. Wulf rubbed his chin with the back of one hand. She was quite the perpetual asshole, that one.
“You didn’t come down for supper, so I wanted to check on you, to see if you’re all right,” Margot said. “Honey, have you been crying?”
“Yes,” Lily said. “And no, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“Are you sure? I’m here if you need me.”
“I know you are.” Lily’s voice warmed. “And that means a lot to me. Right now I just need to be by myself. It’s hard to wait, you know?”
“I do know.” Margot’s own voice was somber. “Can I at least send someone up with a supper tray?”
“Not tonight. I ate some snacks, so I’m not hungry.” She said firmly, “Thank you for checking on me. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“All right.” When he didn’t hear the sound of the door closing right away, he could sense that Margot lingered, reluctant to leave. “Good night, Lily. Try to get some sleep.”
“You too.”
There was a rustle of clothing, then, finally, the sound of the door latching followed by the thump of the bar dropping into place.
When Wulf strolled out, he found Lily leaning against the door with her forehead pressed to it, shoulders slumped. She looked so dejected, he set his equipment to one side, strode over, and pulled her into his arms.
Margot was not the only perpetual asshole. He was one too.
He had come all this way to fight with Lily, but he had come for other reasons too. He wanted to finish that conversation they had started back in his tent. He had been intent on seduction because she didn’t get to leave him. He’d leave her when he was done with her.
Only now he couldn’t. He recognized all the cues that told him if he pushed, he might still have her for the night. After first stiffening, she turned into his hold and rested her head on his shoulder, and the trust in that gesture tied him more irrevocably than any of her invisible boundaries.
If he pushed her now, she might succumb, but her heart and mind were so weighed by other matters he might also lose her afterward, and if he did lose her, it would only be what he deserved. Besides, he didn’t want to be that kind of selfish man.
He said into her hair, “I can’t solve all your problems. I can’t make it better. I couldn’t save that mining town. I couldn’t protect my brother, and I don’t want to stop what I intend to do next. But if you’ll let me, I can hold you for a little while. I would very much like to do that.”
Slowly her arms stole around his waist. He was ferociously glad of that, and proud of how she leaned against him now, and determined to be worthy of it.
She whispered, “I would like that too.”
Walking her back to the sitting area, he coaxed her onto the couch, and when she sat beside him, he pulled her into his arms again. Tentatively, they explored this strange new definition, her slender body fitting against his much longer frame, her head resting on his shoulder, his cheek resting against the top of her head.
As they settled, something happened to Wulf, something he hadn’t seen coming. For so long, he had carried a hard, cold knot of rage in his chest. He had grown so used to living with it, he only just became aware of its existence again as it warmed and eased into something that felt remarkably like comfort.
Damn it. He had meant to comfort her. Turned out, she was comforting him. He remembered the sick drop in his gut when he realized Kris had died, thought of his brother’s missing body, and his eyes grew damp.
Tightening his arms, he held her and they watched the bright flames in the fireplace. After a while, he realized there wasn’t any stacked wood nearby. Neither of them had done anything to fuel the fire, yet it crackled as if it had been newly started, and the logs still looked quite fresh.
It was just one of the many miracles that hovered about Lily like fireflies glowing in the dark, and for the first time in his life, Wulf prayed.
I want her, he said to Camael as he stared fiercely into the flames. In fact, I want her more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. She might be your Chosen, but you’d better be prepared to share.
So it wasn’t the most supplicant or reverent prayer ever said, and Wulf wasn’t the pilgrim type. He was who he was.
The goddess didn’t answer.
Of course she didn’t. Gods didn’t talk to him.
But a bolt of lightning didn’t strike him dead either. After a long moment of listening to the peaceful quiet, interrupted only by the snap and crackle of the flames, he counted that as a win.
Lily stirred. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait before we hear anything?”
“There’s no way to know, love. We’ll hear when we hear.” He pressed his lips to her forehead as he debated. Then he said, “If it helps you to know this, I sent my best covert warriors after yours with orders to assist if your people needed it.”
When her shoulders started to shake, he felt a brief alarm until he realized she was laughing. “Why am I even surprised?” she said. “Of course you did. Do you always get your way?”
He tilted his head as he considered that. “I must confess I do.”
She bolted upright and stared at him, eyes wide.
“Surely by now that wasn’t a surprise?” he said, baffled by her reaction.
“No.” She gave him a soft, strange smile. “I guess it wasn’t.”
He touched her cheek. “I want to stay, but I’d better go. You need real rest, and this is not where I’m supposed to be.”
“That’s the most sensible decision you’ve made all evening.” She looked worried. “Are you sure you’ll be able to make that climb and travel across the strait again at night?”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t you even go there.”
She started to laugh again. “Very well, forget about crossing the strait at night—are you sure you’ll be able to make that climb in the dark?”
“I left the pitons in place. Getting down will be a lot easier than getting up.” He started to smile. “Why, are you concerned about me?”
“Maybe… a little.” She followed him as he gathered up his equipment and strode over to the broken window. “Maybe I don’t want to look out my window in the morning and find your broken body dangling at the end of a rope.”
“Don’t worry. I will be cold but fine.” He paused. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and one cheek bore a crease from his shirt. Setting everything aside, he cupped her face with both hands and kissed her.
Those delicate, soft lips were another miracle. She kissed him back, and that was a miracle too.
He whispered against her mouth, “After I get justice for my brother, I am going to take control of Ys and make it a better place. I already have treaties with Karre and Mignez. Just so we’re clear.”
When he lifted his head again, she stared at him warily. “I see?”
She sounded so mystified, he had to kiss her again.
He could have told her, “I’m going to take you too, and keep you for my own.”
He could have, but he didn’t. Some conquests needed to be made in careful, strategic steps.
“Get some sleep, love,” he said. “We’ll talk again soon.”
After she had thrown a cloaking spell over him and he had climbed out the window, Lily went to bed.
Much to her surprise, she did sleep soundly for a few hours, but then restlessness set in before dawn. Driven by tension that knotted her body, she rose, washed and dressed for the day, and left her tower.
Down in the kitchens, they had barely started to cook, but when she appeared, the head cook was honored to fix an early breakfast of scrambled eggs, buttered bread, and sweet, hot tea for her.
After she ate, the restlessness was worse. She went up to her office, started a fire, and answered a few letters. When her secretary, Prem, appeared, she smiled and said, “Good morning. Please bring Gennita to me at once.”
“Yes, your grace.” Prem smiled back and whisked away.
The minutes advanced so slowly she could almost hear the wheels of time grinding together. She was all but leaping out of her skin. Her heart raced, and a fine film of sweat covered the back of her neck.
What was wrong with her? She wasn’t looking forward to the upcoming meeting, but she didn’t feel bad enough to warrant this physical reaction. She forced herself to answer another letter.
When Gennita finally appeared in her doorway accompanied by Prem, Lily told her secretary, “That will be all for now.” To the older priestess, she beckoned. “Please step inside, and if you would be so kind, shut the door behind you.”
“Certainly, your grace.” Gennita gave her a forced smile. After closing the door, she turned and said, “I expect this is about what we discussed yesterday.”
Lily remained seated. “We didn’t have a discussion,” she said. “We had an argument. You were inappropriate, and you made accusations.”
Accusations that were very hurtful. But no. Don’t talk about feelings.
The older woman stiffened. “You grace, I don’t appreciate being scolded as if I were a misbehaving schoolgirl.”
“Neither do I.” Lily paused to let her cold words sink in. “Out of the love and respect I have for you, I am going to give you a choice, Gennita. There is a wonderful appointment in Karre, just waiting for the right priestess and her family. It’s clear they value the work that Camael’s priestesses do. You have the right healing skills they need. They have a large, comfortable house with gardens that sound beautiful—your husband would love them—and the temple is well kept. And the stipend sounds very reasonable. You could have a happy life there if you want.”
As she spoke, tears started in the other woman’s eyes and she looked shaken. “We’ve lived here for the past twenty years. My grandchildren are here. Are you ordering me to go to Karre and leave behind the rest of my family?”
“No,” Lily told her firmly. “I am offering you a choice, and you have a day to make it. You can explore this new opportunity in Karre, or you can stay here. But if you stay, you must abide by the new rules I’ve set in place. There’s a time for discussion, and there’s a right way to disagree. Confronting me in my office, ignoring me when I tell you to stop, and hurling emotional accusations at me is never going to be acceptable. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, your grace,” Gennita whispered.
The older woman looked so miserable, Lily pushed away from her desk and walked around to her. Taking Gennita’s hands, she pressed them and said quietly, “Life feels scary right now. The abbey may thrive or fail on choices that I have to make, and if you think I’m not aware of that every moment of every single day, you are badly mistaken. But you must remember—the goddess picked me, and I still have to make those choices to the very best of my ability.”
“I know the position is hard.” Gennita’s voice was choked. “Raella had sleepless nights over some of the things she had to do.”
Lily took in a deep breath. “I’m sure it doesn’t help that I don’t see things the same way you do. I don’t put information together in the same way as you, and I understand that must be frightening and inexplicable at times. If you feel like you must go, I will miss you. But if you stay and do something again like you did yesterday, I will make the next appointment a mandatory one.”
“I understand.”
Lily turned back to her desk, picked up the appointment request from Karre and handed it to the other woman. “Why don’t you read the details of the request over with your husband? Let me know by noon tomorrow if you want to take the position.”
Beginning to look calmer, Gennita accepted the letter. “Thank you, Lily. I can see the care and attention that you put into picking this opportunity. You even thought of Edward’s love of gardening. And I apologize for yesterday. I didn’t consider my words very well.”
Lily said, “Apology accepted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, as you can see my desk is worse than ever.”
“Of course.” Gennita paused, glanced at Lily’s desk, then gave her a tentative smile. “If I might make a small suggestion?”
Lily reached for more patience. “What’s that?”
“Get a second secretary. Prem is wonderful, but I don’t think she’s up to handling some of the more challenging tasks that you could still delegate to someone else. Dulcinda, perhaps, or maybe Evie.” Gennita met her gaze. “You’re right—life feels a little scary right now. You should be free to focus on those bigger decisions, not paperwork.”
Lily blinked. “Thank you. I’m going to seriously consider that.”
After Gennita had gone, she turned in a circle and stared at the empty room. While Gennita had been predictably upset at being given an ultimatum, the conversation hadn’t gone as badly as it could have.
It had actually gone better than she’d expected. Gennita had even called her by name again.
But instead of feeling relieved, she felt worse than ever. Her hands shook and her heart raced, and she wanted to throw up.
This felt like full-blown panic.
This was how she had felt when Jada kicked the table apart, drew his knife, and lunged for her. Like there was a clear, immediate threat in her face, right now. But there was nothing, nothing, nothing in her office.…
The details of the office around her faded, and she caught glimpses of another scene.
Winter-bare trees, snow-covered ground, cold biting her lungs. The blow of a horse’s gasp for breath. It had been running for too long.
Others shouting. Ride faster!
And: If we try to go any faster, we’ll kill Marcus!
And a tree line, just below a ridge…
Warriors poured out of the tree line, a sickening number. Many were on horseback and hell-bent on pursuit.
A sharp burst of pain snapped her surroundings back into place again. Her elbow hurt, along with the back of her head. Sitting up, disoriented, it took her a moment to realize she had lost her balance and fallen.
She realized something else as well.
The goddess had never given her any visions based in the present. They had always been from possible outcomes in the future.
But not this time.
This time she had seen images of her people, and they were fighting to get home.