beyond, taking in the families holding hands. The shopkeepers sweeping their sidewalks. The restaurateurs washing down patios and setting out chairs for the breakfast crowd. The market vendors shooing gulls away from their stands.
This—this was what she was fighting for. A life beyond the Curse. A life protected from tyrants like Renk, where men like Eros and Bell ruled fairly. She swept her attention over it all, forcing herself for a single horrifying moment to imagine what the city would look like once her father reigned.
Ash. Ash and rubble and the charred bones of this wondrous city would be all that remained if the Shadeling reached these shores. And he would. If she couldn’t convince the mortals and the Solis to follow her under one allied banner, the mortal continent would become a wasteland worse than the darkest recesses of the Netherworld.
Her mind rioted at the thought. She jerked her gaze away from the vibrant city and people, resolved to keep them safe no matter the cost. If giving up the foolish love she felt for Stolas meant saving them then her sacrifice was worth it.
It had to be.
27
Three days had passed since they left Luthaire with the promise of an alliance. True to his word, Archeron’s assaults had ceased, and their return found Shadoria nearly rebuilt from the previous attacks.
The peace after so many nights of horror felt wrong somehow. A trick meant to lull them into a false sense of security. But Haven tried to enjoy the infectious hope that spread over the island as she walked the streets, marveling at how resilient the people here were. It was midday and those already done working were gathered around their neighbor’s homes, helping erect fallen walls, patch roofs, and repair shattered doors. Some worked on the fountains in the town square, plastering the once stunning Seraphian statues and filling the pools with buckets of seawater.
The magick that made the fountains work was still present, and a few of the fountains were now up and running.
The aroma of yeasty bread and fish drew her gaze to the newly erected market, a maze of makeshift stalls cobbled together in the town square. Vendors smiled as she passed. If they worried about their mostly empty stalls, their ebullient faces didn’t show it.
“Goddess-Born,” a woman with a young girl on her hip called. “Come take a charm for luck.”
Word of Haven’s presence spread like wildfire through the market until her name filled the air. They begged her to bless their homes, cure their sick children, heal their husband’s wounds from fighting.
But it was their grateful prayers that sliced her open. Their calls of thanks.
Thanks.
If they only knew the truth . . .
She flicked a panicked look toward Bell where he bent over a row of shiny throwing daggers, inspecting the blades.
The air shriveled in her lungs. She couldn’t do this. Look them in the eye and pretend she didn’t know in another week their lives would be upended, their smiles replaced by the hollow-eyed look of people infected with never-ending fear.
Chest aching, she ducked into an alleyway where a few smaller vendors had set up shop, her head down. She focused on the uneven cobblestones as she worked to calm her mind. To breathe.
Bell quickly caught up with her. “They have fresh honey a few stalls down, Haven. Fresh. Honey.”
Any other time, that would have been enough to drag her back. Honey was the perfect food. It could be drizzled on biscuits and bread, added to bland gruel to sweeten it.
Runes, it even made Demelza’s coffee palatable, and that alone was worth its weight in gold.
But every second she looked into the people’s hopeful eyes broke open the scab inside her a little more. Their belief in her ability to keep them safe should have fueled her confidence.
Instead, it felt like a dark secret she was keeping.
She rested her weight against the stone wall on her left, grateful for the coolness that seeped into her arm and cheek. “This was a bad idea.”
Coming here was supposed to be a good thing.
“I thought seeing this place would cheer you up,” Bell said, and even though she kept her eyes trained on the city beyond the alleyway, she could tell he was frowning.
Fearing any second now the vendors would recognize her, she pushed off the wall and broke into a brisk stroll, Bell struggling to keep pace. “I did too,” she admitted. “I just . . . I wasn’t expecting them to be so grateful.