The Offering (28 page)

It felt strange to hear the silence inside my own head. To hear my thoughts, and my thoughts alone.

I blinked as I tried to assess the situation through bleary eyes.

It seemed I'd missed quite a lot while I'd been . . . indisposed.

Beside me Niko's wheezing drew my attention. I turned to see him lying facedown, his cheek resting on the tent floor as his glazed eyes watched but did not see me. He gasped and sputtered while his fingers clawed at the ground halfheartedly, as if he might have been making an effort at one time, but now it was only a reflex. Blood spread wide from a wound in the center of his back, and it was plain to anyone who looked—even
someone who'd been out cold for the duration—that it was he who'd been shot.

He made a few more attempts to breathe, and then it was over, his eyes going blank. His fingers going still.

In front of me Elena's body too was prone, and her skin was already turning an ashen shade that meant death had settled over her.

Which meant . . . Sabara . . .

She was gone too.

I wanted to rejoice, but before I had the chance to revel in those feelings, I saw Xander, and a different kind of joy coursed through me. Not one born of an enemy's demise, but one of true, unadulterated relief.

“Xander,” I breathed, trying to sit upright.

Brook was still shackled but was no longer being restrained, and she rushed forward, helping me up.

Xander stood above me, grinning. “You're alive.”

I took him in. His pale skin, the blood on his hand, the bandage where his other should have been. He'd never looked so good. “You, too.” I beamed.

And then he toppled over.

A girl shot forward then, rushing to Xander's side. I tried to place her face—the freckles, the soft brown hair. There was something eerily familiar about her.

And then I knew. She was Elena's sister. I'd met her once before, in Vannova.

“Sage,” I accused, glancing nervously to Brook. “She's . . . she—”

“Saved you,” Brook finished. “Saved all of us.”

Sage eased Xander's head down, gently, carefully. “He's sick,” she said over her shoulder, ignoring my misgivings and the fact that we were talking about her. “His fever's back.” She glanced to one of the soldiers who'd survived the massacre inside the tent. “Go. Fetch a doctor. And tell no one that my sister is dead. I still need to decide how to handle this.”

The soldier did as she instructed, and I wondered at how quickly the tides had turned. Unless I'd miscalculated, this girl was their queen now.

I thought of her sister, and how she'd conspired against me. I thought of Sabara, too, and how she'd only needed royal blood to make the transfer.

Sage had that blood.

I dropped my voice, not really caring if Sage overheard my question. “Are you sure she's not . . . that Sabara didn't . . .” I indicated the princess with a suspicious look, making it clear what I meant.

Brook shook her head, but it was Sage who answered. “Only my sister would be stupid enough to try something so reckless. She couldn't bear the fact that she was—different from all the others. Niko played upon her weakness. He knew exactly which nerves to strike. He knew how to play on her insecurities.”

“Different? How?” I asked, getting to my feet now. The inside of my throat was irritated and felt bruised.

A sly smile spread over Sage's lips, and I couldn't help noticing that she wasn't overly saddened by her sister's demise. “You didn't know? Sabara never shared my sister's deep dark secret with you?” She didn't wait for me to answer, but
her impish smile grew. “My sister was impotent. She was an anomaly in the royal bloodline. She may as well have been born a male, for all the power she was blessed with.”

I frowned, trying to absorb the meaning of her words. “Are you saying . . . that she didn't have any power at all?”

“That's exactly what I'm saying. And it killed her. She tried to hide the fact for years, teaching herself parlor tricks and dabbling in the black arts, hoping to fool people into believing she'd been gifted with sorcery. But after a while, when it became clear she could do nothing useful, she stopped trying. She envied me, and every other royal who had an ability. She felt like a freak.” Sage shrugged. “Which I suppose she was. What kind of queen has no power?” She stopped talking then and knelt low, pressing her cheek to Xander's, concern replacing her mischievous air. “He's burning up.” She looked to the remaining soldier in the tent, as if he might know something. “Where's that doctor?” she questioned.

When the tent flaps flew open, all eyes shot that way, but it wasn't the doctor coming to nurse Xander back to health.

It was Max.

My heart stopped, and everything inside me strained to be near him.

I didn't hesitate long enough to consider anything else, like whether he hated me for leaving in the middle of the night the way I had. All I knew was how badly I'd missed him, and how much I needed him. And that he was here. Now.

I crossed the space in one breath, and was in his arms in the next, practically throwing him off his feet as I hurled myself against him.

His scent was that of wet earth and pungent sulfur. It enveloped me, as did his arms.

His lips, however, tasted like home.

I got lost in that taste, wrapping myself around him in turn, and curling my fingers through the soft, damp hair at the base of his neck. His armor was rigid, but his body managed to find mine and fit itself against me. My entire body tingled, but in a whole new way. I suddenly wished we were all alone, away from here, so I could show him how badly I'd missed him.

When he drew away, it was just far enough so I could see the dirt and ash that covered his forehead and cheeks, and I was certain I'd been equally smudged by it.

“You look terrible,” I breathed, unable to keep a smile from my lips.

“And you,” he said, his mouth still so close to mine, “are the most beautiful sight I've ever seen.”

My heart hammered once at the sound of his words. And then once more when he lowered his head and kissed me again.

“Ahem,” I heard. And then again, but this time with a nudge to my side. “A-hem.” It was Brook, of course, waiting for us to notice her.

I sighed into Max's mouth as I reluctantly dragged myself from his embrace.

I hadn't realized that the tent had swelled with bodies, and that we were now standing before a crowd of faces, all watching us expectantly. Behind Max I saw Claude, as well as Aron, and I saw the way Aron looked at Brook, much the same way Max looked at me. But he stayed where he was, and reminded
me of one of her soldiers as he stood amid them. Beside them all was Caspar, looking far, far too much like his sister.

I smiled sadly at him, grateful he'd survived the explosion.

Outside, the sounds of battle had died down. They'd not stopped completely but had faded now. I could still hear minor skirmishes coming from beyond the tent walls—shouting mostly. But there was no more gunfire, and there were no more bombs or cannons or grenades.

“What's happened out there?” I asked Max, who was busy surveying the interior of the tent, taking in the bodies that littered the floor—the two masked soldiers, Queen Elena, Niko.

He took a step back when his gaze landed on Xander, lying unconscious. “What's happened in here?” He glanced curiously at Sage, who scowled back at him suspiciously.

“He needs a doctor,” she repeated. And as if on cue, a thin woman shoved her way through, wearing what could only be described as an animal pelt—a wolf or a coyote—drawn up over her head, so that her enormous green and yellow eyes peered out from beneath its upper jaw.

She said nothing but went immediately to Sage and dropped down beside her. They whispered between themselves, and I stepped closer, straining to hear what they were saying. The woman shot me a warning look, cautioning me with only those too-big eyes to stay back. And I did as she indicated.

She reached into her pocket then, and pulled out a pouch, dumping a handful of what appeared to be crushed powder into her palm. Then she proceeded to sprinkle it into Xander's mouth.

She uncorked a small flask and chased the powder with a translucent red liquid.

Xander came up choking and coughing and spitting, but alert.

From the look on Max's face, he was as relieved as I was. I slipped my hand into his and let our fingers intertwine. “So, is it over?” I asked. “The war?”

Max looked down at me and sighed. I could read the regret on his face. “Just this battle, Charlie.” He looked to Caspar then, and I wondered if Max knew that Caspar was Eden's brother. “With the help of Caspar here, we were able to overtake the camp. But the war's not over yet. Elena's soldiers have done a lot of damage, and have covered a lot of ground. I don't know how long it'll be before we can stop them.”

“
My
forces, you mean.”

Max looked at Sage again, as if considering her for the first time.

Sage didn't seem to care what Max or anyone else had to say in the matter. She stood up and brushed the ash from her pants. “I guess it's time for me to start spreading the word,” she announced, “so I can fix this mess my sister started.” She turned to the one soldier from Elena's army who still remained in the tent. “You. Fetch the general.” He started to obey, pushing past those who had been his enemies just minutes earlier, but she stopped him. “And for crying out loud, take off that stupid mask.”

It took several hours to sort everything out.

And several more before we were ready to leave the encampment.

Sage was as good as her word, and by the time we were saying our farewells, she'd already sent messengers to every general under her command, recalling her forces and withdrawing them from Ludanian soil.

That had been the easy part. It was devastating to make our way back out onto the battle-ravaged land. To see the damage that had been done, and the people who'd lost their lives. All for nothing. For a queen's selfish pride.

My fingers closed around the sapphire pendant in my pocket, hardly blemished after what it had been through. Max had returned it to me, recounting the horrors he'd witnessed when he'd watched Elena's soldiers burn Deirdre's village to the ground.

Brooklynn had lost too many of her soldiers as well, as had Sage. And I watched as Caspar bent down time and again to wipe mud away from the faces of children, making mental notes of those who'd died.

We all lost someone,
I thought achingly, and then I was forced to tell Xander and Caspar about Eden. I had to tell them about my decision
not
to release Sabara's Essence, and how Elena had executed Eden for it. It was like reliving the moment all over again.

Caspar sobbed openly, tears cutting a path down his mud- and ash-streaked face.

Xander, on the other hand, remained stoic, almost to the point of appearing heartless. If it weren't for the way he clung to Sage—who seemed never to leave his side—I might have wondered if he'd even heard me.

But I saw the way his fingers sought hers when I told them.
The way he clutched her like a lifeline, as if he might topple over if she weren't there to hold him up.

It made me think her support went deeper than just the fact that she'd saved him from the dungeons of her sister's palace and kept him alive while they'd been on the run.

My suspicions were confirmed when it was time to leave and I had to watch them saying good-bye to each other.

I felt like a voyeur, inadvertently seeing the way she whispered softly to him, privately. And the way he glanced around, making certain they couldn't be overheard, before responding. I turned away and busied myself with other matters. Whatever their relationship was, I had no business prying.

“Are we ready?” I asked Aron when I saw him securing a pack on one of the horses we'd be taking until we reached the train.

It had been so long since I'd seen Aron, since I'd sent him to 11South to set up the new communications hub. That seemed like another lifetime ago, and Aron looked older. Aged by the weeks—and the events—that had passed.

I felt it too.

He gave me a fatigued look and said, “Brook's making sure everything's set with Eden's body . . .” He paused when his voice became thick. He turned his attention back to his work, avoiding my eyes. “As soon as she's done, I think we can go.”

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Part of me couldn't wait to get away from this place, from all the death and the reminders of all we'd sacrificed. Couldn't wait to leave it all behind and try to forget.

But another part of me . . .

A part I was still trying to reconcile felt like this was a place of great closure for me, and for Ludania.

It was the site where a queen had been born, once and truly.

Where I'd finally been freed of Sabara's tyrannical reign at long, long last, allowing me to be myself. To rule without her constant misgivings and disruptions.