The Rabbit and the Raven: Book Two in the Solas Beir Trilogy (39 page)

Lucia narrowed her
dark eyes and raised her hand. A bright blue orb formed on her palm. “Do
not
tempt me,” she warned. “I am in no mood for your insolence.”

Malden glared at her and scuttled away.
Later, sweetness,
he thought.
You can’t protect him forever.

Lucia watched Malden run off in the direction of the palace’s entrance, vanishing as he rounded the corner. The little wretch had grown bold. Perhaps she should have brought him to his knees to remind him of his place. She thought about calling him back and then reconsidered. The Eastern Oracle was conducting a meeting. If she could hear voices coming from inside the courtroom, those within would be able to hear Malden’s squeals of agony. It wouldn’t do to cause a scene. Not here.

Lucia covered her head with her veil and nodded to the guards to open the doors. She quietly slipped inside the Eastern Oracle’s court, and the guards discreetly closed the doors behind her. The Eastern Oracle sat on his throne, and Tierney stood beside him, just in front of the dais. They had a visitor.

The sea hag’s long, black-and-white banded tail wound in lazy curves around the room; the paddled tip nearly reached the door. Lucia noted a raw wound near the end of the tail—red, swollen stripes, like something had recently sunk white-hot claws into the lamia’s scaly flesh, burning it, branding it.

Lucia had seen that kind of wound before. If she was right about the source of the injury, that wound was never going to heal. The sea hag would be forever marked. Lucia stepped carefully around the lamia’s tail and walked the perimeter of the ornate rug to stand silently under the arches on one side of the room.

“I have done all that you asked of me,” the lamia purred, her serpentine tail twitching like a cat’s.

Although the sea hag addressed both men, her eyes were only on Tierney. Lucia did not like the familiarity with which she spoke—apparently this was not the first conversation between Tierney and the witch. While Tierney looked perfectly at ease and a small satisfied smile played on his lips, the Eastern Oracle’s face was twisted in a mask of diplomacy that failed to cloak an expression of self-righteous horror and indignity in having dealings with a hag.

The old woman had slitted, serpentine eyes and a flattened reptilian nose. Squatty, toadlike arms sprouted from her sides, and the warty amphibian skin of her face and upper body resembled the inside of a rotting gourd, a contrast to the smooth scales on her reptilian tail.

Banded tail or no, no one would mistake such a creature for a siren. The lamia was one of the first horrors to come from the sea, a chimera born of covetous hunger, an ancient thing that had never been beautiful. This sea hag had long ago abandoned her siren kin’s compulsive urge to feed, and had instead become the scheming creature standing before Tierney now.

The witch likely hoped to elevate her own status by doing tasks her superiors thought beneath them. Lucia was uncertain as to the specifics of those tasks, but she knew they must be vile for the sea hag to have the privilege of being called to court.

“The Sower is ready, my lords. All I have seen will come to pass,” the sea hag crooned. “The false Solas Beir will fall, Ardal’s true firstborn will take the throne, and the world will be as you wish.”

“Well done, Meridoris,” Tierney said, favoring the witch with a warm smile. “You will be handsomely rewarded when we succeed. In the meantime, however, a small gift to express our gratitude.” He snapped his fingers and one of the guards brought forward a courtesan. It was the girl from the market.

Lucia was not surprised to see the girl wearing the uniform of a courtesan, but she
was
surprised Tierney would give her to a bottom-dwelling creature like the sea hag. Tierney had told Lucia it was imperative that the girl be captured, and she’d assumed it was because he did not want critical intelligence falling into the hands of the Solas Beir. But he neglected to mention this part. Lucia thought about what Jonathon Reyes said, and wondered what else Tierney had failed to tell her.

The young courtesan seemed dazed, unaware of her surroundings. Had they drugged her to make her more compliant? Lucia wondered if the child had any idea what fate had in store for her.

The sea hag’s eyes flashed hungrily, but she made no move to feed. She bowed slightly at her waist. “Thank you, my lord. I look forward to our future dealings. I shall eagerly await your word.” Then Meridoris took the girl by the hand and led her out of the room.

A guard followed, walking behind the lamia’s paddled tail as it coiled around the room and slithered through the exit. He closed the door once the witch was gone.

“You can relax now, Oracle,” Tierney chuckled.

Lucia turned to see the Eastern Oracle let out a sigh of relief. “That was quite unpleasant. I shall be in my chambers if I am needed for further business.” He rose from his throne, gathering the folds of his scarlet robe as he descended from the dais.

“I doubt there will be further unpleasantness requiring your attention today, Your Honor,” Tierney smiled, crossing his arms.

“Good,” the Eastern Oracle replied, scowling.
Clearly he did not share Tierney’s lighthearted view of the situation. Adjusting his red square cap, the oracle marched to the door leading to his chambers, and an entourage of aides followed in his wake.

One of the aides, a nervous, fidgety little man, seemed on the verge of coming unglued. In his hurry to vacate the room, he dropped his clerk’s cap. A tall, muscled Kruorumbra
e guard picked it up and held it out to him. The aide recoiled as if the guard might devour him, and then took the cap, muttered his thanks, and skittered away after his colleagues, hastily pulling the chamber door shut behind him.

Tierney grinned, watching all of this with great amusement. “He’s not the most gracious of hosts, but the entertainment is worth the price of admission.” He turned to Lucia. “Don’t you think so, love?”

Lucia removed her veil and stepped out of the shadows to join him in front of the throne. “He does surround himself with amusing little people,” she smirked.

Tierney laughed and vaulted up the dais steps to settle lazily into the Eastern Oracle’s throne, irreverently throwing one of his legs over an armrest. “And how are things with our young Lightbearer?”

Lucia wondered what the oracle would think of Tierney abusing his precious throne, but kept her tongue. When delivering bad news to Tierney, it was prudent to proceed with caution. She frowned. “Artan still lives. He annihilated the Daughters.”

Tierney raised an eyebrow. “
All
of them?”

Lucia nodded. “All but the traitor. But not before the Daughters took care of the c’aislingaer.”

Tierney’s eyes grew alarmingly dark and Lucia took a step back. Tierney studied her for a moment and then swung his leg down, shifting to sit up straight on the throne, gripping the ends of the armrests in his hands.

Lucia felt her heart beat faster in a mixture of fear and awe. He looked much more at home on the seat of power than the self-important oracle.

“Well, at least that task is finished. Pity the Lightbearer survived, but perhaps we will have the advantage now that our dear little Rabbit has left us,” Tierney said, his eyes burning into Lucia’s. “Was he very broken by the loss?”

“Quite,” Lucia confirmed.

Tierney smiled and rose from his perch. “Excellent. Most excellent,” he said, stepping down from the dais and taking Lucia’s hands in his.

So he
’s pleased by the loss of the cai aislingstraid
.
That’s good,
Lucia reassured herself. “I brought you a present,” she said, feeling more confident as she stared at her fingers intertwined in his.

Tierney’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, really? Do tell.”

Lucia smiled. “The Solas Beir’s confidant. He sits in the dungeon as we speak.”

“Hmm. That could be useful in getting our young friend to agree to our terms,” Tierney murmured.

“Yes—I have a feeling the Solas Beir will surrender to you very soon.” Lucia hesitated, unsure if she should continue. She looked into his eyes. He seemed pleased with her news. Perhaps he would forgive the boldness of her next question. “Tierney, what the witch said about the Sower…please, you cannot be serious about using him.”

Tierney looked surprised by her question. “I am deadly serious about it.”

“But once he begins, we will not be able to contain him. He could destroy everything. He could be your undoing,” Lucia insisted.

Tierney narrowed his eyes. “I
can
control him.”

“But he is an abomination—he should not even exist. We both know that.”

“And
that
was Ardal’s mistake,” Tierney replied. “But his error shall render our victory. I shall wield the Sower like a sword. He will change everything.” He smiled and stroked her cheek. “Besides, dear heart, every puppet needs a master.”

“Yes, but which are you?” Lucia asked. Immediately she regretted it. She cla
mped her hand over her mouth, as if she could take the words back.

Tierney’s eyes grew dark again. He studied her as if he were weighing a decision. “Dearest Lucia
…you have so little faith.” Eyes locked on hers, he took her hand from her mouth and turned it over, pressing her palm gently to his lips before letting her go.

Then he turned and opened the doors to the balcony that overlooked the Eastern Sea. He walked out into the evening air and placed his hands on the balcony railing. Silent, he stared down at the sea below.

Taken aback by his display of tenderness, Lucia watched him for a moment before following him outside. The sun had set and the first stars were glittering in the sky.

She placed her hand on his arm. “Tierney, I am so sorry. I spoke out of turn.”

He turned and smiled sadly. He pulled her to him, cupping her chin. “Lucia, my love, don’t you know that everything I did, I did for us? To change this world to be as it
should
be? To bring you to your rightful place as queen so we could finally be together?”

“I do know that,” she whispered.

He searched her eyes. “It was always you and me.” He paused, staring at the stars. “But look, now you’ve gone and shattered our dream. You’ve broken my heart.”

She shook her head. “No. No, I…”

He nodded. “Oh, but you did. You said the child was hidden from you. You said you could not find him, and that’s why I was forced to wait in the Wasteland.”

“I…I can explain,” Lucia
stammered.

“No need.” Tierney’s smile was sad, bittersweet. “I see everything quite clearly now. It was all lies. The Lightbearer was not hidden from you. He was hidden
by
you. And as time grew short and Calder grew strong, he found out about your little lies, didn’t he? He did not betray me.
You
did.”

From the inky shadows on the far side of the balcony, Malden emerged, a patronizing smile etched on his face.

So the little wretch has been flapping his jaws
, Lucia thought. She was furious. “Dog. Filthy, traitorous dog!”

Malden chuckled as he stalked boldly forward. “Filthy, yes.
Oh, yes.
Traitorous, no. Not to
him
.”

“Lucia,” Tierney whispered.

She turned to him, pleading. “Tierney, please—”

Tierney cupped her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly. “I did love you,” he said.

Then he tossed her off the balcony.

Riding on Cael’s back, Marisol spotted Erela in the sky. “She found something,” Marisol told him.

Erela was flying back to them in a hurry.
Not as fast as she
could
fly though,
Marisol thought. Erela had been pretty speedy in coming to their assistance at the Eye of the Needle. She had been surprisingly patient of late, but still, it had to be killing her to have to slow down for the rest of them.

They were making better progress now that David had healed enough to travel as a lion, and Marisol was the one riding on Cael’s back. David still couldn’t fly, but whether that was because of the gaping wound healing in his abdomen or the one that remained in his heart, Marisol did not know. He wasn’t the same without Abby. He seemed broken, hollow.

They had been traveling for days across the never-ending desert, and after their conversation around last evening’s fire, David had kept running across the sand with them, but he had stopped speaking altogether.

The night prior,
sitting around their campfire, they had been talking about the Daughters of Mercy. Marisol felt terrible for even bringing the topic up, but something Jon had said played over and over in her mind, and it was driving her crazy. Had she known what David had seen, she never would have asked the question.

Jon had said he saw death in the face of the Daughters, but Marisol saw something different. She saw Malden’s face, and then her not-so-friendly neighborhood bogeyman really came after her. So was it a premonition? And if it was, did that mean Jon was going to die? Maybe it was already too late. Maybe he was already dead.