The Offering (29 page)

“Here,” Sage said, coming up behind me and interrupting my thoughts. I looked at her, realizing I'd been wrong. This was the place where two queens had been produced.

She held out her hand, and in it was another vial of the red liquid the doctor had given to Xander. “He'll need this. It won't cure him,” she added, forcing me to meet her gaze. “For all the advantages we have over your country because of Sabara, Elena was far too dependent on conjurers and sorcery for herself. She was always looking for someone to fix her, which made her easy prey for tricksters. Her doctor isn't a true apothecary. She dabbles in the dark arts. The best she can do is mix a decent potion to keep him comfortable. He'll need better care when you return home.”

I nodded, and only then did she release the vial to me.

“Good.” She nodded too, seemingly convinced that she could trust that I would take care of him. “And in return we'll offer you our assistance. I can help you with fuels and communications. We have some of the best minds, and some of the most technologically advanced systems in the world.” She smiled. “Even though she didn't have a power of her own, my sister understood what it took for Astonia to be formidable.”

I wondered again at what had transpired between her and
Xander in the short time they'd been together. Their bond, whatever it was, was important enough that she was willing to barter valuable resources in exchange for his well-being. “You don't owe me for taking care of him,” I said. And then I stopped myself, smiling good-naturedly. “But I won't turn you down either.”

“No good queen would,” Sage answered with a small smile of her own, and then she turned away, giving me her back as she strode toward Xander.

epilogue

It was as if Eden herself had planned her own funeral.

The black sky had opened up, and it was raining torrents upon us as we assembled in the small cemetery, a place where guards and members of the household staff and family had been buried for as long as the palace had been standing. Huddled together, we converged around the freshly dug grave in the earth, beneath canopies and umbrellas as we tried our best to stay dry despite the gales that continued to push and pull at our makeshift shelters.

I clung to Angelina's small hand, as I had for almost every moment of every day since our return, afraid that she might suddenly change her mind and stop allowing me to do so. That she'd stop letting me touch her and hug her and kiss her. So far, however, she continued to permit such behaviors, and I continued to be grateful that she remembered what we'd been like before Sabara.

Angelina had known I was different the moment I'd crossed
the threshold of the palace entrance. That Sabara was gone, now and forever.

I'd nearly been knocked over by her enthusiastic greeting as she'd come barreling at me like a miniature gale force of her own, her gossamer blond hair tangled and twisted around her face. I'd caught her with equal fervor, throwing my arms around her and whispering promises to never let her go again.

Promises like the one I'd made before I'd left her, that I'd do everything in my power to return home. And like the one I'd broken, about bringing Eden home safely.

Yet, here we stood, sister and sister. Hand in hand.

Angelina had taken the news of Eden's death exactly as I'd expected she would, and her swollen eyes glittered even now, days later. I wondered how long it would be until she slept an entire night without waking from a nightmare, or when she'd be able to do so in her own room.

Until that time, I was more than happy to share my bed with her once more like when we lived in the city.

Despite the weather, everyone had come to say their farewells to Eden, and I stared out at a sea of mourning faces: my parents, Max, Brooklynn and Aron, Claude and Zafir, and two hundred other members of the palace guard and household.

Caspar and Xander were there too, standing side by side, the two men who'd known Eden best.

I was grateful that Xander was here at all, a testimony to my sister's power to heal.

By the time we'd returned home, I'd been convinced he was beyond saving at all. The fevers had ravaged him, becoming
so intense, so brutal, that even the apothecary's brews had no longer been able to ease his discomfort. He'd spent the last stretch of the journey thrashing and crying out incoherently, as he'd begged for death.

Max had vigilantly remained at Xander's side the entire trip, refusing to allow anyone else to relieve him, even when Max had become bone-weary from sleep deprivation. He would not abandon his brother.

But Angelina had been able to cure Xander. As simply as if it had been a scrape that needed only the most minor healing. And it had taken just a graze of her hands, so slight, almost unnoticeable as her fingers had deftly feathered the side of his jaw. A brush, really, and over that quickly.

Xander's fever had broken within seconds, and he'd been speaking—clearly, coherently, lucidly—within minutes. He'd known it too. That it had been Angelina.

If only she could have repaired his missing hand. But her abilities extended only so far.

“Thank you,” Xander had told Angelina, his silver eyes clear at long last as they'd settled on her blue ones.

She'd nodded then, because it was all she'd been able to manage. Her heart had still been too heavy with the weight of the loss of Eden.

I was still awed by my sister. I sensed that she was growing more powerful with each day, with each breath that she took. I wondered at the things Sage had told me about how Elena had been jealous of her sister's abilities, and how she'd put Sage in harm's way because of that. I couldn't imagine feeling envious of Angelina. I couldn't imagine faulting her,
or feeling anything other than what I did—sheer pride.

I wondered too how far Angelina's abilities might one day evolve. Already she could sense people's hearts, and whether they could or couldn't be trusted. Already she could heal. What else would she be capable of?

I thought about what those skills might mean were she to be queen, and how useful it would be to know if someone had a deceptive soul.

Maybe there would come a time when Angelina would be better suited to be queen than I.

But I knew something that Elena hadn't. That the measure of a true queen didn't lie in her magic. It had more to do with
who
she was, and what she was willing to give of herself, than it did with the powers she possessed.

In that, I had no way of knowing which of us—Angelina or me—would make the better queen. But for now none of that mattered. It was I who sat on the throne. And it was I who would continue to do so for as long as Ludania needed me.

Caspar drew my attention then when he cupped his hands to his mouth and blew. It was that same long and mournful whistle that I'd heard on the day Eden had first taken us to the work camp in the forest. When she had signaled to her brother high above in the trees and he'd answered her in kind.

Now, however, it sounded like a dirge. Desolate. A final send-off to Eden.

I blinked, my fingers tightening over Angelina's as I heard her whisper beside me, “I wish I could have saved her.”

“I'm leaving,” Xander announced when Angelina and I came into the main hall and found him waiting. He had a look about him that told me not to argue, not that I would have. And he didn't have to explain what he meant or where he was planning to go.

I knew. I think I'd known for some time now, ever since Eden's funeral, almost two weeks before.

He'd tried to resume his duties since his return, but it hadn't been enough, and he'd been growing more restless and impatient with each passing day. He did as I asked, of course, helping to relocate Caspar and the children Caspar had been in charge of. Trying to keep them as close together as possible so they could still maintain contact with one another. To find them homes and get them enrolled in schools. There were a lot fewer of them now, after the fighting, but there were still more than a hundred to house.

It had been a time-consuming task, and one that Xander had taken on with the same attention and care he'd given any undertaking I'd ever asked of him.

More so, maybe, because this was Eden's brother he'd been charged with finding a home for.

Caspar had balked at the notion of needing guardians and an education, but ultimately he'd acquiesced, if only to serve as a role model for the others. To lead by example.

Now, as Xander stood before me with that same recognizable restlessness in his eyes that I'd noticed for weeks, I turned to Angelina. “Go with Zafir, will you? If I'm not mistaken, it's past time for his afternoon snack.”

Zafir glared at me over Angelina's head, but she nodded eagerly, reaching for his calloused hand. Her fingers were
small and pale as they curled around his larger, darker ones, and she tugged him insistently, leading him in the direction of the kitchens.

He'd been a good protector for Angelina while I'd been away, and he would continue to be in his permanent role as her royal guard. He scowled over the duty, and liked to pretend he didn't want to be in charge of a child, but I knew Zafir, much the same way Angelina knew who was loyal and who was not, and Zafir was all bluster in his complaints. He no more wanted to be transferred from his role than I wanted to have Sabara dwelling inside me once more.

Zafir, I was beginning to suspect, enjoyed his
snack breaks
.

When they were out of earshot, I turned my attention back to Xander. His arm had healed—faster, likely, because of Angelina—and the place where his hand had once been now ended in a puckered stump. The skin was pink and was peeling where there had been scabs, but he no longer needed the bandages that had once festered and oozed.

He reached down and lifted a leather satchel, balancing it in the crook of his elbow.

“Are you certain?” I asked, not sure what more I could say, and wishing I could talk him out of going at all.

He met my gaze, and I saw the answer in his eyes, the reason for his restlessness. “I am. I think I decided before we even left the encampment,” he replied. “I miss her.”

Blinking, even though I understood, I nodded. “Does Max know you're going?”

Xander looked past my shoulder, smiling at someone behind me. “I already told him.”

I felt Max's hand on my shoulder then, squeezing it reassuringly. “I told him you'd cry,” he accused, but there was no admonishment. His voice was soft and filled with tenderness.

I nudged him with my elbow. “I'm not crying,” I lied, blinking harder.

Max's lips grazed the sensitive skin of my ear, sending a shiver everywhere over my body. Now, however, he could no longer see my reaction to his touch. It was mine and mine alone.

The glow had vanished, along with Sabara.

Max kissed my cheek, too, and that was when I felt it. The moisture on my cheek, making it clear that just because I no longer shone didn't mean he couldn't read me. “Of course you're not.”

Xander watched us, a wistful smile finding his lips. “I'll miss you. Both of you,” he said. “But it'll be easier now. The new communication ports will make it easy to stay in contact.” His eyes crinkled. “No more waiting days for envoys to deliver messages. What a strange new world.”

I didn't mention that the last time I'd received a message from Astonia, it had been a box that had contained his hand. And I didn't tell him I'd be happy to never see another messenger in my lifetime.

“A wonderful new world,” I breathed.

It was Sage who had made it all possible, sending teams of her own engineers and technicians to help us install a complex system and the necessary power sources to keep it running. I couldn't believe how quickly it had been connected, but the tests, up to this point, had far exceeded my wildest dreams.

Of course, I suspected she'd had ulterior motives for outfitting us with such elaborate equipment so soon after our return, and she and Xander had used it far more than anyone else in the palace.

Now, however, they would no longer need such sophisticated technology to converse. Xander would be making a new home for himself in Astonia.

“We'll miss you, too,” Max said, and I felt the weight of his arm tightening around my waist as he watched his brother turn to leave.

“Wait!” I called out, stopping Xander before he could go. “You should be here for this.”

My heart fluttered, and I was suddenly grateful for the fact that my emotions were no longer visible. If they had been, Max would have seen a million fireworks bursting beneath my skin, revealing my nerves as I slipped my hand into my pocket. My fingers moved over the linked metal of the chain, and my mind raced over the scenario I'd replayed in my head a hundred times already.

And then I glanced up and met Max's steely gaze, and everything inside me went still. Every explosion went silent, every beat of my pulse settled.