The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,128

so easy to kill you, Malich. Rest assured I will never beg you for anything ever again.” I pulled the bolt free and blood spurted from his neck before he thudded to the ground. Dead.

I stared at his crumpled body, the blood running slowly from his neck, trickling into lazy red rivers across the cobbled floor. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

His grin was gone.

It was then that a thunder of footsteps closed in from all sides. Six guards surrounded me—again ones I didn’t recognize. The Watch Captain stood among them. He was the member of the cabinet who oversaw the citadelle guards.

He looked down at Malich’s body with recognition and shook his head.

A nauseous wave rushed through me. “Not you too,” I said.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Captain, don’t do this,” I pleaded.

“Believe me, Princess, if I could reverse time, I would, but I’m in much too deep to turn back now.”

“It’s not too late! You could still save my brothers! You could—”

“Take her.”

I stepped forward and swung, the bolt still in my hand, but my knees gave way and I hit the floor.

Two guards scooped me up by my arms, and another pulled the bolt free. Blood spurted, and my head swam as they dragged me. I tried to keep track of where they were taking me, but all I saw were blurred shapes swirling in front of me. Stop the bleeding, Lia. But with their hands clamped on my arms, there was no chance of that. Instead I pleaded to their loyalties, trying to convince them that the Watch Captain was the vilest of traitors. Even my words seemed slurred, distant, and one of the guards repeatedly told me to shut up, but I didn’t stop. He finally cracked me in the jaw. The soft flesh on the inside of my cheek sliced into my teeth, and the salty tang of blood filled my mouth. The passageway faded in and out, and floor and ceiling spun into each other. But it was a word a guard muttered just before he threw me into a dark room, that slammed into me harder than his fist.

Jabavé.

There was a reason I hadn’t recognized the citadelle guards.

They were Vendan.

CHAPTER SIXTY

Just a little farther, Lia.

Hold on.

Hold on for me.

I smelled a river, glimpsed the weighty bowed pines of a forest, saw frosty breaths swirling the air above me, and heard the steady determined beat of boots crunching in snow.

I felt warm lips brushing mine.

Just a little farther.

For me.

My eyes drifted open—I wasn’t dead yet. The snowy world, the blinding whiteness, and the scent of pine vanished. Instead I was in a black windowless room, but I still felt the arms that had held me, the fingers that had brushed back strands of my hair, the chest that had been a warm wall against the cold, and I heard the voice that wouldn’t let me go.

Keep your eyes on me. The fiery blue that had demanded I stay.

I tried to focus, search the blackness. The cell was stuffy, the air as old as the walls themselves. It smelled of dirt and rot. I pulled my hand close to my stomach, pressing it tight to stop the bleeding, but the pressure sent a blinding stab through me.

I sucked in air, forcing my lungs to breathe.

I couldn’t accept that it was over.

That there would be no word sent to save my brothers.

That the traitors wouldn’t be exposed.

That the Komizar had won.

Seeing Malich dead was suddenly a very small victory. The satisfaction trickled away, like his blood across the floor. His death only gave me an ending—it didn’t give back what had been taken.

The path here was a blur and I wasn’t sure where I was, but it wasn’t the citadelle. Maybe one of the outbuildings? Why would they chance dragging me out in the open when the citadelle prison had been only steps away? I didn’t think they had taken me as far as Piers Camp, but I couldn’t be sure.

I tried to stand to search the room for something to use as a weapon, but my injured leg buckled under me, and my face slammed into the dirt floor. I lay there like a wounded animal. Do we understand each other at last? I choked back angy tears. No! I pushed with my one good hand, trying to get up. I’d thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, but I was wrong. I heard footsteps, muffled shouts, and squinted against the sudden bright light as the