Threaded, p.50
Threaded, page 50
Andrian’s voice, when he was able to find it, whispered of a slow, painful death.
“You will die for that.”
Julian regarded his son with a contemplative look that had Andrian’s shadows snapping and twisting in the air around him.
“No, I don’t think I will.”
Then, before Andrian could react, Laurent’s gaze darted behind his son. In a too-fast movement, multiple sets of arms banded around Andrian, wrestling his wrists behind his back. He whipped his head around to see the faces of the men who held him, their expressions blank and empty. Andrian let loose another roar, his shadows coiling up like vipers ready to strike …
… Until shackles clamped down over his wrists, and that magic snuffed out, the familiar movement in his veins he’d finally come to accept as a part of him vanishing in a breath.
Deistair. Sunstone. Beyond illegal to possess, and the only substance that could nullify the magic of one so gifted.
Andrian went limp at the loss, at the severed connection to the soul he’d forgotten he had.
“It is time you were brought back into the fold, my son. You’ve spent too much time away, but that doesn't matter. You will just need a”—he paused—“change of attitude, so to speak, and all will be well.”
Something blunt struck the back of Andrian’s skull, and the world faded into blackness.
Distantly, just before the terror and darkness took him, he heard his father’s voice, one last time.
“You should have remembered my promise, Andrian. I always keep my word.”
CHAPTER 62
Mariah ate her dinner alone that night.
She wasn’t in the mood for company, even from those closest to her. Sebastian and Ciana tried to convince her to let them stay, but she’d refused.
And Andrian was entirely the one to blame.
That look she’d seen written on his face before he’d left … it had haunted her all day. She’d needed him after the meeting with the Royals had gone so poorly. She’d held herself together just long enough to make it back to her room, had prepared to release those floodgates as soon as they were safe and alone. But then … he’d just left her. She knew he could see the need in her eyes … but he’d left, regardless.
She’d wanted him to be the one she could always rely on. The one who would always be there to steady her when she stumbled or hold her strong when the burdens of the world threatened to bury her. But at this first true test, this first moment when no one else would’ve been able to catch her, he’d vanished and left her to fall.
So, Mariah had let her sobs break free and had let Sebastian and Ciana comfort her the best they could. But they both knew that while she deeply appreciated them both … it wasn’t them she needed.
When Mikael arrived a few hours later to ready her dinner, he’d worked in silence as Mariah had sat in one of the chairs facing the Attlehon Mountains. She felt nothing, not even when he’d set food down before her, asking her if she wished to dine alone.
She’d answered with a quiet, “yes,” and he’d left her with sadness on his kind face but no further words.
Mariah still sat there, an hour later, her food untouched. She’d watched the sun set, the rays refracting off the mountains. Dusk was fast approaching, and with it came the fear of what the night and her future would bring.
Whatever was next for her, she would have to face it on her own.
And … she wasn’t sure she’d be able to withstand it.
A loud bang from behind sent her shooting to her feet, her hand instantly wrapping around her grandfather’s dagger on her thigh. There were low footsteps moving through her foyer, and then the last person she’d expected to see in her chambers that night emerged from the entryway.
Andrian, his onyx hair windswept and tanzanite eyes blazing, stood beneath the arch, and lightning lanced through the air.
He’d come back. She knew she should be furious with him for leaving, should snarl and scream for abandoning her to go do Goddess-knows what. But in that moment, seeing him again … she forgot her anger. All she could think was that it was Andrian, and she was Mariah, and she needed him so desperately she could hardly breathe.
It was a fact that would never change, no matter the trials they would face in their futures.
Mariah felt her face crumple just as Andrian surged across the room, gripping her in his arms. He held her so tightly, so frantically, his heart beating wildly in his chest against her ear.
If she hadn’t already shed so many tears that day, she would’ve wept. As it were, all Mariah could do was loose a few shuddering breaths and inhale his scent, trying desperately to mesh it with the very fibers of her own being. Finally, after what could’ve been a few seconds or a few hours, she pulled back from him, lifting her head so it rested against his strong, solid shoulder.
“Where did you go?”
He exhaled heavily. “I had to get out. Clear my head. I should’ve stayed with you; I’m sorry. But … I was too worked up and just needed to let off some steam.”
Mariah drew her eyebrows together. “The guards told me they saw you riding into the city like you were being chased by an army of demons.”
“Yeah. That’s what I did to clear my head. I took a ride.”
Mariah didn’t pester him further. She understood that feeling better than anyone else, that driving need to just escape on horseback at a pace where no one could catch you.
“I’m glad you’re back.”
Instead of responding to her, he leaned back, tilting her chin up so he could meet her gaze. Mariah stared into those tanzanite depths and thought she caught a glimpse of something almost manic gleaming back at her. She studied him closely, her magic prickling beneath her skin as she held his stare.
“Mariah, we need to talk.” His fingers gripped her chin as his eyes burned even brighter. Warning bells began to clamor in her head, her power threading through her veins—
“I’m tired of waiting,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “There’s no point to it anymore. The lords won’t help us, and you need to assume your full power in their absence. Let’s bond. Tonight.”
Mariah could only blink at him in shock, the warnings in her head suddenly silenced. Her magic guttered out in her veins.
No wonder he appeared manic, if this was the question he’d wanted to ask.
“Are you drunk?”
He cracked a smirk. “Only on you.”
She grinned back at him, huffing a soft laugh. “Funny. But … Andrian—”
“Don’t overthink it, Mariah. It’s time. We both know it. Right?” He blinked down at her, urgency in his eyes.
Her smile turned dazed, and she nodded. Is this really happening?
His answering expression was one of pure delight. “Good. Meet me at the starlight hour, just before dawn, in the western courtyard by the stables. I’ll be waiting for you.” He bent down and met her lips in a gentle kiss, his hand still holding her chin. Hunger stirred in her core, but he pulled back before she could wind her hands into his hair and hold him close. He was grinning down at her again.
“Soon, Mariah. Try to get some sleep; tonight, you truly become a queen.”
He turned to go, but Mariah grabbed his arm before he could leave.
“Andrian, wait,” she said, her voice breathless. “Before you go, can you tell me one thing?”
“Of course. Anything.”
She stared into those tanzanite eyes she’d come to love so much it hurt. “What does nio mean?”
Andrian’s features froze for a moment before they melted into yet another dazzling smile. He reached up and took the hand gripping his bicep, bringing her knuckles to his lips. He whispered a kiss across the back of her hand before dropping it and answering.
“I’ll tell you tonight.”
And then Andrian was gone, and Mariah was left in a daze, her stomach twisting and turning in knots of excitement and another feeling she couldn’t quite place. She finally forced herself to scarf down the now-cold plate of food, step quickly into the shower to rinse herself of the stress of the day, and then curl herself into bed, anxious to sleep off the last few hours before she finally ascended to her birthright.
CHAPTER 63
The dream began in darkness. Deep, swirling eddies of darkness twinkling with the barest presence of light in its depths.
Slowly, Mariah began to see that twinkling light form into stars, the thick fog swimming through her mind and her dream parting to reveal … something.
She wasn’t sure when she’d fallen asleep—or, given her nerves and excitement, how she’d even managed it. But yet, there she was, caught in the webs of a dream … or at least something akin to one.
She’d dreamed before, usually in abstract images and mere feelings she would hardly ever remember the next day. But there was something different about this dream. She felt a heightened level of consciousness here, a distinct knowledge that while her body might be slumbering, her mind was very much awake.
Slowly, that thing she’d seen deep in the parting shadows began to move, growing larger and larger as it approached her. It glowed with a brilliant silver light, like a star given form, and morphed into a shape the closer it came.
Not a shape.
A person.
A woman.
She was veiled in silver light, a radiance hiding most of her form from view, but Mariah could just barely make out her feminine shape. That near-blinding light started to recede with each heartbeat, and her features were slowly revealed.
The woman had dark skin, a rich ebony contrasting with the silver-white of her hair, the strands crafted from spun starlight. She wore a stunning, flowing gown of silver gossamer, the material floating around her and weaving with the silver light shrouding her like a halo. Small animal bones on her shoulders pinned the material of her gown together, and more bones were woven into the silver curls of her hair. She was beautiful, ethereal, and very clearly not human.
Mariah knew in an instant who she was.
“Zadione,” Mariah breathed, her voice a mere whisper into the dark void surrounding them.
Yet the Goddess of Death heard her all the same. Her face, filled with otherworldly power, gave way to … a smile, warm and vibrant.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mariah Salis. Although, perhaps it is just you meeting me, as I certainly know you.” Something glimmered in the Goddess’s silver eyes, something youthful and wild and so very familiar to Mariah it felt like coming home.
And she knew why. Her mother had told her, in that hidden note in the journal. And she’d come to accept it, to embrace it, those silver threads in her soul now as much a part of her as her own heartbeat.
“I have your magic.” She didn’t know why she said it; she already knew the answer. But being here, in the presence of that immortal being … it made her feel so young, so insignificant, so curious.
Zadione froze, her silver gaze still leveled at Mariah, and simply nodded once.
She offered no other explanation. But Mariah needed more.
“But … how? Why? Why me? And why are you here, now? What is happening?” The questions flowed from Mariah’s mouth like a rushing river bursting through a broken dam.
The Goddess’s expression melted into something that spoke of compassion…and sorrow. “I am sorry, Mariah. But there is not enough time right now to answer your questions. If you survive this war, then I promise you, all your questions shall be answered. And, Mariah,” Zadione’s tone shifted, her stare turning hard and burning, the ancient power of death she embodied blazing in her eyes. “You must survive this war.”
Cold dread and confusion swirled through Mariah, a whirlpool threatening to pull her down into the depths of the void around her. “What war? There’s no war in Onita … is there?”
At her question, the temperature of the void plummeted, any warmth from the silver light around them winking out. The youthful wildness that had permeated through Zadione vanished, and the figure before her shifted into the ancient, grotesque embodiment of death that made her so feared. The bones on her gown grew and melted into her skin, her hair fading from silver starlight to the color of bleached bones. Her eyes sunk back into her skull, and her fingers lengthened into talons, claws that could scrape out a soul from a body and leave behind only a lifeless husk.
Even with the magic of that very being in her soul, Mariah felt herself shrink away.
No human, no matter how far they thought they’d fallen, could comfortably look upon the face of death and not feel fear.
Then the Goddess of Death spoke, her once-brilliant white teeth now cracked and pointed, her voice like the final wheeze of breath leaving the lungs of a dying man.
“There has always been but one war, and it threatens more than just Onita. The One Who Fell, the Scourge of all worlds, has awoken. And he will come for you.” Death pinned Mariah with a stare, peeling back all her layers and walls and shriveling her from within.
“I have warned you, all your life, that love is a weakness. You are a threat to everyone who serves him, the only one who can stop him. He wants you gone. And if you do not forgo all weaknesses, he will get what he wants. Now—wake up.”
CHAPTER 64
Mariah’s consciousness slammed back into her body as she shot from her dream, panic drenching her skin in a cold sweat. Her chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath. She sat up, pulling her knees up to her chest and dropping her face between them, her hands pushing the sweat-damp strands of her hair back from her face.
After several moments, when she was confident her heart wouldn’t burst from her chest, she finally pushed herself from her bed. With still-trembling hands, she grabbed a discarded robe from the floor and wrapped it tightly around her body. She strode into the living room, to the balcony door, unlatching the lock and pushing open the hinges, the cold air of the winter night filtering in as she pulled in deep breaths and stared at the sky.
The night was clear, the stars above brilliant as they twinkled in the vastness of the inky black. The waning twin moons were still high in the sky, casting their silver and gold light upon the world below. Just near the horizon, she could see the faint violet glow beginning to creep its way into the void of the night sky.
The starlight hour. The hour just before dawn, when those who danced in the night beneath the glow of the moons enjoyed one final moment of joy before the rise of the sun. A time when magic was at its most unpredictable, most unstable.
A thrill stole through Mariah at the sight, chasing away the lingering heaviness of her dream. She remembered what—or, rather, who waited for her right now in that western courtyard, an area where the trees were cut back so the moons above could be enjoyed in full.
A perfect place.
Mariah moved away from the window and back into her bedroom, quickly dressing herself in warm, fleece-lined breeches and a soft sweater to ward off the chill of the winter night. She pulled on her boots and shrugged on a thick wool cloak before walking past her bed once more, heading towards the doors to the living space. The dragon-winged dagger taunted her from where it sat on her nightstand, still sheathed in its new garter of fine red leather. She shook her head once and left it there, stepping quickly into the living room of her suite.
She would have Andrian with her tonight. There would be no need to carry that dagger. Not here, in the safety of her home, even with the threats she’d faced before. She could hardly remember that night with the Uroboros, not with her mind filled with love and burning tanzanite.
Those threats had passed, and she would no longer live in fear.
She strode quickly through her suites and towards the double doors leading to the hallway beyond. Right before her hand touched the gold-plated handle, she hesitated, her dream suddenly rushing back to the front of her thoughts. The Goddess’s voice pounded in her head, as if it were more than just a mere memory.
“Love is a weakness. Wake up.”
Mariah stood still for seven heartbeats, warring with herself over the dream, and whether that’s all it was—just a dream. Ultimately, she steeled herself against the waves of unease, shoving it down deep inside and turning the key, locking it away.
This was Andrian. Her final Armature. Her consort. Yes, she loved him; that was no longer a secret. But, if her dream was real, this couldn’t be what Zadione meant. She needed his bond, his strength, if she were to weather whatever this coming war might bring.
Maybe Zadione’s warning about a conflict was tied to whatever brewed in the Kizar Islands. That would make the most sense. She would begin her investigations into it tomorrow.
With that, Mariah steeled her resolve and twisted the handle, the door swinging open on those silent hinges, closing it behind her with a soft click. She hurried off into the dark, quiet hallway, ignoring the whispers chasing her into the shadows.
Mariah stepped into the moonlit courtyard and spotted Andrian immediately.
His back was to her, but he was gilded in silver-gold moonlight, his fine black clothing outlined in the dimness and his raven black hair glinting in the soft luminescence. A prince of darkness, reveling in the last hours of the night, waiting for his queen to join him after far too long. He stared at the far wall, the alcoves within veiled in thick shadows, and stood utterly still except for the soft breeze rustling his perpetually tousled hair.
“Andrian?” His name was a whisper, but he still heard, turning with a jolting movement to face her. Even from the distance between them, Mariah could see his tanzanite eyes sparkling in the subtle starlight. He smiled, but didn’t speak a word in greeting or take a step towards her.
She rolled her eyes. Of course, even now, he couldn’t make this easy. Couldn’t stop finding a way to challenge her.
It made her smile.
She started forward, slowly, and his eyes tracked every step she took. His intense attention on her warmed her blood, and when she stood before him, close enough to touch, he finally moved. He drew his left hand from his pocket and wrapped his fingers around her right wrist, pulling her hand up and away from her body. He met her stare before dropping a pointed gaze at her left hand, and when she raised it, he looped that wrist in his left hand too, until both her hands were held in a loose grip between his long fingers. His right hand remained in his pocket, and while he appeared as calm as ever, she could feel his pulse hammering beneath where her fingertips rested on his forearm, could feel the feverish heat emanating from his skin. Her smile pushed higher, touching her eyes. She loved that he could no longer hide; not from her.
