Dark Skies by Danielle L. Jensen Page 0,184
Malahi alive, but not even a healer can bring back the dead. Especially when one doesn’t even have a corpse to work with.”
Lydia pressed a hand to her stomach, her core hollowing despite everything the other girl had done to her. “Malahi is dead? How?”
“Rufina attacked us on the road and took her. Killian no doubt would’ve been able to fight her off, but he wasn’t with Malahi like he was supposed to have been. He was busy chasing after you.”
Guilt flooded Lydia’s veins, along with fear.
Reaching up, Hacken caught hold of Lydia’s face, his fingers snagging in her hair. And though she knew that she should fight him off, that she was strong and capable, her entire body froze.
“This is your fault as much as his,” he hissed. “Malahi is dead because of you. Don’t think for a heartbeat that there won’t be consequences.”
Another draft struck Lydia, and Hacken dropped his hand from her face, turning. A rail-thin man stepped inside and Lydia’s stomach plummeted as she recognized him from the day she’d brought Gwen to Hegeria’s temple.
“This is her, Grand Master,” Hacken said to the healer. “The girl who saved my brother’s life.”
“Thank you, High Lord. You’ve done us a great service in finding her for us.”
“I serve the Six,” Hacken said, but the look he cast Lydia before he left the tent was vicious in its triumph.
“We meet again,” the Grand Master said, his eyes full of recognition.
Lydia found herself barely able to breathe, much less answer. This was the moment she’d been trying to avoid almost from the moment she’d arrived on the Dark Shores. And despite everything she’d done—everything Killian had done—here she stood. Like fate, unavoidable and unchangeable.
“I long suspected Lord Calorian had you hidden away. We heard the rumors that Hegeria herself walked the sewers at night healing the orphan children with a god-marked swordsman standing guard at her side. And stories, I find, always have some basis in truth.”
“If you knew, why didn’t you come for me?” The question slipped out from between her teeth.
The healer smoothed his white robes, which were spotted with blood. “Always, we are accused of hunting down those with Hegeria marks. Of stealing them away. But that is rarely the truth of it, because most often, the Marked come to us.”
Lydia’s skin prickled.
“Our goddess is not random in her choices—she knows who are suited to dedicating their life to the well-being of others, and it is those she marks.” He eyed her for a long moment. “When I heard you were using your gift—likely because you couldn’t help yourself—I knew it would only be a matter of time until you accepted your destiny and came to us willingly.”
“Except I didn’t come to you.” Her voice was shaky. “High Lord Calorian turned me in.”
“True. But even if he hadn’t, I think you would have arrived on our doorstep, one way or another. It’s where you are needed. Where you are wanted. Where you belong. You knew that the moment you stepped through the temple doors that day.”
A shiver stole along her spine, his words the answer to the question that had haunted her since she’d spoken to Bait on the beach. Still she said, “And what if I don’t agree? What if I resist? What if I run?”
Quindor sighed. “Don’t make me resort to threats, Lydia.” Gesturing outwards, he said, “Lord Calorian won a great victory today, and the King intends to reward him. To put him in command of Mudamora’s armies and to give him the opportunity to use his mark as Tremon intended. But if Serrick were to learn that Lord Calorian had been knowingly harboring you? Breaking his most sacrosanct law? Things might go in a different direction.”
“And who is to say it won’t go in that direction even if I do go with you?”
Shaking his head, Quindor replied, “I cannot predict the future, but rest assured that Lord Calorian’s downfall will not come by way of me. We might have won the battle today, but the war is not over. Mudamora had need of its Marked.”
It wasn’t over. Rufina was alive, her kingdom still a threat, and on the Southern Continent another shadow lurked.
This is where I’m meant to be.
As if hearing the words inside her head, Quindor straightened. “We ride for Mudaire immediately. The blight continues its spread, and the city is infested with those who’ve been infected. We must find a way to stop it, and I want you to be a part of that. I need your help in our war against the Seventh.”
This is what I’m meant to do.
She allowed him to take her arm, and they stepped outside, where another pair of healers waited, along with a handful of soldiers. “Ready the horses,” Quindor ordered.
They were leaving now.
“May I say good-bye?” she asked, her chest aching.
“Best not,” Quindor said under his breath. “I doubt he’ll take this well.”
Men led horses toward them, and Lydia allowed one of them to boost her into the saddle. Instead of handing her the reins, he gave them to another mounted soldier as though she couldn’t be trusted to follow.
“Quickly now,” Quindor ordered. “We must be away.”
“Lydia!”
Her name echoed through the camp and, taking a deep breath, she turned.
Killian was striding toward them, sword in hand, and she knew that he’d fight to free her. That he might succeed. And that in doing so, he’d lose everything. That they both might lose everything. So she shook her head.
He froze.
“I choose this,” she whispered to him, and the wind blew, seeming to catch her voice. “Don’t try to stop me.”
He lowered his sword and gave a faint, almost imperceptible nod.
She twisted back around, eyes on the snow and the mud. “Ride,” she said, digging her heels into her horse’s sides. Quindor gave her a long look, then nodded, and the group picked up the pace.
The long road stretched out ahead of them, and as her horse broke into a gallop, Lydia allowed the sob she’d been holding in to tear out of her chest, the tears to flood down her cheeks.
She cried for all that she’d gained. All that she’d lost. And all that would never be.
But not once did she look back.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Seeing Lydia’s and Killian’s story to bookshelves has been a long, long journey. There are scenes in this novel that I first envisioned and wrote back in 2007, and while the story itself has undergone considerable change, some of my favorite parts have been with me for over a decade.
Endless thanks must go to my parents, Carol and Steve, and to my brother, Nick, who have all read countless versions of this novel and remained enthusiastic about the characters despite multiple name and personality changes. Thanks to Spencer for being supportive despite the challenges my career brings to our family and to our two daughters for putting up with a workaholic mother. To Pat for always being there to pick up my slack and to Steff and Kris for endless hours of driving into the city to entertain my children while I banged away at my keyboard.
I am eternally grateful to my agent extraordinaire, Tamar Rydzinski, for believing in this series and advocating so strongly for it. I’ve been on the higher maintenance side of things this year, and there are no words for how much I appreciate everything you’ve done and continue to do. Also thanks to Laura Dail and Samantha Fabien for your continued support!
To the team at Tor Teen, I am so grateful for all that you have done for this series and its characters. Special thanks to Melissa Frain for helping me make that rough mess full of endless NTD comments into the story it is now. Thanks to Devi Pillai, Saraciea Fennell, Isa Caban, and Elizabeth Vaziri. Thank you to the team at Macmillan Audio, most especially Thomas Mis for your enthusiasm and for involving me with the casting process.
Because I’ve been with this story for so long, I often struggled to see the forest through the trees, but I’ve had the good fortune to have several amazing early readers help me find my path. Huge thanks to Melissa, Shimrit, Eileen, and Amy, not only for helping me past my hurdles with this novel, but for your passion for Killian the Dark Shores world.
Biggest thanks of all to my loyal readers—those who’ve been with me for years and those who’ve only recently ventured into my worlds—thank you for your endless support and eagerness to read more of my words. Your reviews and blog posts and Instagram photos and fan art and cosplays featuring my stories are what keep me going through the tough times. I’ve so much love for you all and thank you for sticking with me on this journey.