The Offering (23 page)

The boy's unsettling gaze fell on her, making her feel at once apprehensive. He didn't carry a spear, Sage was quick to note, but he had a weapon. His arms rested effortlessly on an assault rifle slung over his shoulder. It was nothing like the makeshift spikes of his disciples, not homemade or easily broken in two.

It was sleek and polished and shiny and new. And he carried it with an ease that conveyed he was accustomed to such weaponry. That he knew his way around a gun of this caliber.

Imagining him with a crown on his head was not so far-fetched.

“You're on our land,” he told her. “You're trespassers, both of you.” He barely looked at Xander, his concentration solely directed at Sage. His head tipped down as he studied her from beneath his low brow.

He's trying to intimidate us
, she supposed as she considered his posturing. The gun, the black stare, the way he lowered his voice.

“We . . . didn't mean to. We were just trying to find someone,” she started, but beside her, Xander's rheumy cough interrupted her. “Please,” she tried again, reaching out to Xander. “Let me make him some tea.”

The boy turned his attention to Xander then as well. He took a step closer, and then a step to the side, his head cocked as he considered the ailing man still struggling to remain upright in front of him. The boy's black eyes roamed to the rounded butt of newly replaced bandages that covered the place on Xander's left arm, just above his wrist, where his hand should have been.

“The thing is . . .” The boy's voice wasn't as low now when he spoke, and his stance had relaxed. As if he'd forgotten he was trying to intimidate them. “I know you.”

Sage couldn't imagine when their paths had ever crossed. Not a boy like this. One who covered himself in mud and carried gleaming new guns like this, and who led a pack of children through the forests like a horde of wild beasts. “You do?” she asked dubiously.

His unnerving eyes snapped back to her. “Not you,” he responded, and then turned back to look at Xander as he dropped to a crouch in front of him and did his best to wipe away the crusty layer of mud from his own nose and cheeks and forehead. “Don't you remember me, Xander? I'm Caspar. Eden is my sister.”

xv

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here. If it isn't the errant queen of Ludania.” Elena spoke to me as if we weren't at odds at all, as if we weren't at war and she weren't holding me captive.

She spoke to me as if she were chastising a naughty child who'd misbehaved on her watch.

“I hear we're having something of a disagreement over what to do. And here I thought things were going to be . . . so simple between you and me,” she intoned.

I recalled the first time I'd met Elena, as Queen Neva's guest at the summit in Vannova. I remembered how lovely she'd been with her shiny bronze hair and her matching gown, and how I'd considered her an ally then. How, even though I'd balked at the idea of one queen invading the lands of another—something she'd done in her efforts to support Xander during his revolution against Sabara—I'd been willing to put the past behind us, to chalk it up to old rivalries that had nothing at all to do with me. I'd extended an olive branch
to her. Called a truce for the good of our neighboring nations.

And she'd been so gracious about it.

I hadn't realized that the entire time she'd been smiling to my face, and kissing my cheek at parties and gatherings, she'd been planning my assassination behind my back.

Standing before her now, and seeing that same inscrutable expression on her beautiful face, I felt as if I were balancing on the tenuous threads of her spider's web, her greedy eyes inspecting my every move. She was waiting for me to make one misstep, so she could snare me in her sticky trap.

“How could you think things would be simple?” I retorted. “You've declared war on Ludania.” Just saying the words aloud made my skin blaze.

“Oh, that.” Her dismissive tone was infuriating, fanning the flames of my disgust for her even more. “I tried to warn you, Your Majesty. I tried to send you a message so we could settle this without bloodshed.”

My teeth clenched as I recalled the package I'd received, as if Xander's bloodshed hadn't counted. “And I came!” I shrieked, unable to remain calm in the face of her callousness. “I did what you wanted, and you still attacked my country.”

“Yes, well, that was an unfortunate turn of events. I'd hoped to wait, so you and Xander might be . . . reunited. But plans changed.”

I wasn't sure what that meant, but hearing Xander's name, and hearing the indifference in her voice, made me weak. I tried not to choke when I asked, “So, he's no longer . . . He's not . . . here?”

“I'm afraid not.”

“All he wanted,” I started, “was accord, and you . . . you . . .” I couldn't finish, and I had to turn my cheek to keep from falling apart completely.

Niko swam into my line of sight then, where he stood off to my side. He watched me as eagerly as Elena had, and suddenly I felt like I was caught between two equally deadly predators.

Elena sighed. It was exaggerated, and less than sincere. “The incident with Xander was unfortunate, I admit as much. We tried to reason with him, but he was obstinate. He refused to play nice.”

Play nice
. I tried to imagine how they'd presented the situation to him. Surely they hadn't told him everything. Not about what they'd planned to do once they'd lured me to Astonia.

Or maybe they had. Xander would never have allowed Sabara to sit on another throne. She was the reason he'd turned his back on his family in the first place. Why he'd started a rebellion that had divided his country in two.

She was the reason Max hadn't grown up with his older brother to depend on.

Xander would never forgive Sabara for any of those things, let alone put her back in power.

“What about you, Charlaina?” she asked, using my given name now, as if we were old friends. “Will you play nice?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to still my trembling hands. Beneath my skin I could feel the electric pulse of a thousand flares erupting as I tried to quell my rage.

From deeper within I heard the throaty laughter of Sabara ringing up through my ears.

We're not so different, you and I
, she urged, and as much as I hated her for saying it, I wasn't sure she was entirely wrong.
You're
exactly
like me. I think that's what frightens you most, doesn't it, Charlaina? That you'll become me. I know what you're thinking even before you do. Go ahead and try,
she offered
. It'll only make you weaker.

I knew she was right, but Elena was dangerous. She had to be stopped. I might not be willing to give Sabara to Elena, but I could certainly use Sabara against her.

It was worth the risk.

I reached down—deep, deep down—digging for that power that I'd employed before.

I felt the surge first in my fingertips—the tingling. That was how I knew it was working. I was drawing Sabara's own ability from her and would use it for myself. Her energy coursed through me, electrifying my entire body. Making me feel strong. Complete.

Exhilarated.

Lifting my hand until it was raised in front of me, I glanced sideways and caught a glimpse of Niko. He recognized the gesture. He knew exactly what I was about to do.

“Sabara,”
he wailed in that archaic language the two of them shared.
“Layla, don't do it. Don't let her do this!”

I felt a thrill of satisfaction course through me when I saw that it was working. When I saw Elena, the cords of her neck straining as her airway narrowed. Her eyes flew wide and her hands shot up to her collarbone.

I'd seen this before. I'd watched people suffer and claw at their own throats, trying to find a way to breathe. Trying to save themselves.

It was no use.

But Sabara wasn't to be counted out. She'd heard Niko's pleas, and she reacted to them. I felt her responding to the need she heard in his voice, yet I was ready for her this time.

You can't stop us
, she jeered.

Sabara came at me then, with everything she had. White-hot rage erupted within me, scorching everything in its path. She was stronger than I'd ever felt her before, more determined to win this battle. To take me down. I could sense her resolve, and her deepest desire. She intended to regain her power.

But I was determined too.

I fought her just as hard as she fought me. I planted my feet and clenched my fists, focusing solely on her now. In front of me Elena sputtered and gasped as she was momentarily forgotten while I battled another opponent.

I refused to give in. I could do this. I was certain I could.

I felt Sabara's Essence everywhere, all at once. She threatened and taunted me, her words tumbling over one another and coiling together until it sounded as if there were a hundred of her trapped inside my head.

You're too weak.

You can't beat me.

Surrender.

I will kill you. . . .

It was those last words that I recognized as the truth—the most honest thing she'd ever said to me. It was the reason I could never unleash her.

Sabara
would
kill me.

But that instant of clarity also made me hesitate. And in that
moment Sabara saw her opportunity and reclaimed her ability.

I never had a chance.

I felt her energy—the power I'd borrowed from her—slipping away as she withdrew it, taking it back from me. My fingers no longer itched and tingled. Electricity no longer coursed in my veins. I wasn't just weak; I was debilitated by the transition.

I could no sooner kill Elena by simply waving my hand at her than she could me.

It took me too long to admit my defeat and lower my hand. The ground beneath me felt unstable, as did my confidence, and my shoulders were suddenly heavy.

When I slid my gaze over to Niko, I saw him wearing his triumph in a sly, knowing grin that I longed to smash from his arrogant face.

Elena staggered to her feet, and I realized I'd never even seen her fall. She inhaled, trying to recoup her composure as she glanced at Niko. “Will I . . . When I . . .” She had a difficult time finding the right words. And then she glared condescendingly in my direction. “Will I be able to do what she just did?”

Niko's grin widened and took on a different quality when he directed it at her. I recognized that look. He'd flashed it at me before too. He was making her feel special—as if he cared about her above all else. “All that and more, my sweet,” he crooned. He swept her hand into his and lifted it to his lips. “All that and much, much more.”

The ecstasy that flooded her face was almost painful to look upon. Her cheeks flushed, and tears glistened in her eyes. Niko was dealing in vanity.

“He's lying.” My voice was shaky as I faced her, wondering
why I bothered. I had no intention of letting her take Sabara from me.

Elena just laughed, a trilling sound that implied she had no cares in the world. “He told me you'd say that,” she retorted. “He said you'd try to keep her for yourself, that you wouldn't want to give up your shot at eternity.”

“There is no eternity!” I shouted back at her. “You won't survive the transfer. She'll kill you.”

Automatically she massaged her throat, and I wondered if she even realized she was doing it. “You survived. You think I'm not as strong as you? Stronger, even?” She said it like the notion was preposterous, and she laughed some more, looking around at the soldiers who surrounded her. They laughed too. And then she closed the distance between us and grabbed my arm. “I'm ten times the queen you are, Vendor.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Only ten?” I shot back.

She slapped my face. Hard.

My head snapped to the side, and I saw Niko watching us, an amused expression on his face.

“Let's do this,” she told him. “I'm tired of waiting.”

My chest constricted as I realized her intent. Elena meant to try to make the transfer now.

What if it wasn't up to me at all? What if she said the words and I wasn't able to stop Sabara from leaving—the way I hadn't been able to stop her from taking her power away from me?

“You can't! You can't, Elena! I wasn't lying. She'll destroy you! Sabara will take you over and you'll disappear.” I shouted until my voice was hoarse, but Elena was under Niko's spell now.

He'd said all the right things. He'd convinced her she would live forever.

“Take me,” she said boldly, ignoring my cautions. Her voice rang out, practiced and strong and resolute, not a single quiver, or doubt, to be heard. “Take me instead.”

My eyes widened as I waited to see what would transpire next. And then it happened.

I felt her, Sabara, uncoiling from the very pit of me. She was preparing to make the move from one body to another. Liberating me as she disentangled her soul—her Essence—from mine.

Darkness and hatred and everything vile about her released me, and I felt the swell of those things that had been staved off in me for so long returning in a rush: virtue and joy and warmth. Things I'd had to fight to feel because Sabara had smothered them at every turn.

But I couldn't have those things. As much as I wanted them, I couldn't let my temptation to be whole again—to be me and only me—sway my decision to keep Sabara caged. I had to hold on to her because I was the only one who could.

And I did. With all my might.

It wasn't nearly as hard as I'd expected it to be, to bottle her back inside me. I simply repeated those very same words silently inside my own head,
Take me instead. Take me instead. Take me instead
.