his bastard child, not born from the womb of his chosen Morakkari but from the womb of a warrior’s wife. He’d murdered in secret, wanting to hide his shame—but Kakkari had known and the white-haired sorceress had channeled her rage, her power.
The Vorakkar of Rath Dulia, seated on the opposite end of the table, pointed out, “She is a vekkiri. Not Dakkari.”
“If she was born on our land, then the breath of our god and goddess is within her,” the Dothikkar argued. I stilled, cutting him a sharp glare he did not see. His words made a hypocrite of him. For decades, he’d argued that the vekkiri’s plight was not his responsibility because they were not Dakkari.
But if the breath of Kakkari and Drukkar were within them, then they were our own and their struggles were ours to bear. And he had left them to famine and disease…and the Ghertun.
Even still, if the Dothikkar believed this vekkiri kalles was a sorceress, channeling the power of Kakkari…there was no telling what he would do with her.
“How many humans are under the Dead Mountain?” Rath Kitala asked, frowning. “We have heard no reports of a settlement falling to the Ghertun for over two years.”
“Not many,” she hedged. “I do not know how long we have been there. Since before the cold season. Perhaps longer.”
“You went underground with them?” Rath Kitala rasped. The Ghertun always retreated underneath their mountain when the frost came. They couldn’t survive the harsh temperatures above ground.
Her eyes came to him before they dropped away, before they flitted to me. Her shoulders shuddered, a long shiver racking her body, though she had heavy furs draped over her shoulders. Did I make her afraid too?
Of course.
She didn’t reply. There were too many questions lingering in the air, the tension in the throne room tight. The rest of the Vorakkars remained silent.
“I am to bring back a token of your acceptance of the terms, Dothikkar. Lozza wishes to have a heartstone of Kakkari. Or…or else…”
Vienne trailed off, flinching when the Dothikkar’s glare cut her to the bone.
“Take her back to the dungeons. Get her out of my sight!” the Dothikkar bellowed, waving his hand. The guard immediately clasped her arm, tugging her from the throne room, her white hair stark against the black furs around her shoulders.
A heartstone…
Vok.
Chapter Five
My body was beginning to waken from its frightened stupor.
I was sitting on the stone in the dark dungeon, gripping the fur cloak around my shoulders like it would be pulled away from me. It didn’t help that I was completely naked underneath it, my shift dress discarded.
I was sore. I was exhausted. I wasn’t hungry—though I hadn’t eaten anything in two days—only thirsty. And even with the furs, I was cold, shivering.
Had it been hours already since I’d delivered the message to the Dothikkar? Had night fallen?
The door to the dungeons echoed as it opened, but I paid it no mind. It had opened and closed countless times in the past few hours. Guards changing posts, perhaps. I huddled deeper into the cloak.
Long moments passed but then I felt a prickling on my neck. When I lifted my head, I froze.
Glowing red eyes peered down at me from the other side of the bars. I would’ve cried out in surprise had my throat not locked up, had my tongue not swelled in the cavern of my mouth.
It was him.
The Vorakkar.
With a quick flip of his fingers, I heard metal scraping and the door of my cell swung open.
“Come,” he said, his voice nothing but a growl. I was rooted in place, staring up at him. I wanted to stay in the dungeon. I didn’t want to move again.
Slowly, I rose on shaking legs. My lips felt dry. My tongue felt like it was coated in sand.
“Wh-where are you taking me?”
He didn’t reply—only watched me with his eerie gaze—and I swallowed, wondering if this was when I would die. Had I failed my family? Maman, Viola, Maxen, Eli? Would they remain under the Dead Mountain until they passed from this life?
My eyes were blissfully dry for once. I didn’t want him to see me cry. Not again.
Given no other choice, I stepped from the cell. My left leg twinged, muscles and tendons giving out from underneath me. Before I hit the hard ground, the Vorakkar caught me in his arms and, before I knew it, swung me up until he carried me against his broad chest.