A Court This Cruel and Lovely (Kingdom of Lies Book 1), page 2
What would Asinia say if I told her that unless I managed to get out of this village, it would be me on that platform one day, watching Tibris and Mama be slaughtered—their bodies dragged away as if they were nothing?
If she kept my secret, and the assessor found out, Asinia would die too.
We walked in silence for most of the way home. Finally, Asinia took a deep breath.
“That was some moment with you and Thol,” she said.
She was attempting to cheer me up. I could do the same for her. “It was just a smile. I lose the ability to speak around him.”
“You forget, you may be terrible at flirting, but it’s one of my best skills. And I know when a man is interested.”
“Don’t placate me. It’s even more depressing.”
She squeezed my arm. “I’m not. You’ll see.”
We took our usual route home from this side of the village, walking past the large, spacious, warm homes behind the thick metal gate separating them from the rest of the village. What must it be like to live in those homes? Not to have to watch every coin or huddle next to the fire in winter because the glass in the bedroom windows was broken?
“Prisca?”
“Sorry. Daydreaming. What will you do after the feast?”
“I’m helping my mother with some work.”
Asinia’s mother was a seamstress, and her daughter came by her talent naturally.
I glanced at Asinia. We had different dreams. I wanted nothing more than to be able to stay right here, while she longed for a life in the city. Regardless of how much magic Asinia received back when she finally came of age in two winters, she hoped the reputation of her work would spread, until the news reached someone in the city who would come and hire her.
It would happen. No one sewed or designed like Asinia.
Wherever I ended up, I’d find a way to let her know I was safe. Maybe, if she could forgive me, we’d even be able to exchange a letter or two. My chest ached at the thought of not seeing Asinia every day. Would she ever be able to forgive me for such dishonesty?
“You should come for dinner tomorrow night,” Asinia said.
I hid a wince. Asinia and her mother weren’t quite as poor as us, but they definitely didn’t have much food to spare either. And yet, they both kept trying to feed me.
“Asinia.”
“My mother loves you, Prisca. She knows how things have been since your father died.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Asinia raised her eyebrow in that way she did when she knew exactly what I was thinking. “Your mother would do the same for me.”
She waved and turned back toward the square. I continued along the dusty path and unlocked our front door.
“Mama?”
Our house was quiet.
Unnaturally quiet. Eerily quiet.
Sprinting into her room, I dropped to my knees next to her. Her eyes rolled, and she gasped for air.
My mother was in the midst of a vision.
CHAPTER TWO
“Feels like a trap,” Rythos muttered, shifting on his horse as the sun flickered over his dark skin. He ducked his head, barely missing a particularly low-hanging branch. Mountains towered to our east, their jagged, snowcapped peaks stabbing into the sky.
“Of course it’s a trap.” Marth scowled, pulling his cloak tighter around himself with a wary glance at the ruins of the city in front of us.
The Cursed City had once been the capital of Eprotha. Centuries ago, when humans invaded what was now known as the Barren Continent, they were unprepared for the retaliation they would face.
Now, the capital was Lesdryn—on the other side of the kingdom.
After so many days of travel, most of us could use a good fight. But we had little time to spare. Already, we’d had to ride hard from one of the smaller villages in the east for this meeting.
My skin felt too tight. This was, indeed, guaranteed to be a trap.
As usual, Cavis was quiet. His wife had just had their first child, and he was longing for home. But he hadn’t complained. Like all of us, he knew just how important the next few weeks would be.
“What about you, Cavis?” I asked. “Do you think the stone hags will actually behave honorably for once?”
Cavis sent me a wry smile. “Even men like us should be wary of the Cursed City. And the creatures who roam there.”
Few knew that the Cursed City was now inhabited. Fewer still came anywhere near this part of the kingdom. And yet, here we were, at what were once the gates to this ruined city.
“Come out, hags,” I ordered.
“Come innnn,” a voice called back.
I shook my head. Walk into a city of rubble, when the stone hags could wield that rubble to bury us alive? “We have a bargain. Break it and accept the consequences.”
I allowed a hint of my power free. Mostly because a hint was all that was left. Grinding my teeth, I held up a hand, my magic sparking in the sunlight. Soon. Soon, my power would be returned in full.
“You dareeee threaten usss?”
Rythos’s horse shifted under him. He jumped off and pulled his sword. “Don’t make us come in there.”
“They want us to come in there,” Marth muttered. “That’s the point.”
We didn’t have time for this. I let my power strike at the closest pile of rubble—one that had likely been a watchtower. From the shriek that pierced my ears, one of the stone hags had been using it to spy on us. I smiled. Hopefully that would reduce the time we spent in this place.
Several hags appeared from the rubble. All of them moved slowly, their gray skin wrinkled and dry as dust. The one in the center wore a crown of tourmaline.
I dismounted and waited for them to come to us. I’d always found power in silence. Rythos lazily swung his sword in his hand. I gave him a warning look, and his mouth curved in a feral smile. All these years, and I still didn’t know why he loathed the hags.
“The bargain has changed,” the queen hissed. “We will require more gold.”
Galon jumped off his horse next to me, offense flashing over his face. Once agreed upon, deals were never to be broken. Behind us, Marth and Cavis guarded our backs, although I knew both men well enough to know they were hoping for a fight.
“And you believe we will comply with your demands?”
The queen smiled, a grotesque display of crumbling stone teeth. “I believe I know why you need this little ingredient.” She held up a vial containing the specific moss we required. “And if I am correct, you will need secrecy. Because if the king learned of your plans, all of you would burnnnn.”
I watched the queen until she dropped her gaze. She immediately lifted it, but it was too late. We both knew who was more dominant.
I smiled. “And you believe you are safe here in this cursed land that was once a city? You believe Sabium wouldn’t send his guards here—with all of the magic at their disposal—to turn this stone to dust?”
She studied my face. One of her sisters murmured in the queen’s ear. I kept my expression blank, despite the restlessness that itched at the base of my spine. This was the weakest part of our plan. Without the hags’ cooperation, and the moss in the queen’s hand, my revenge would stay forever out of reach.
“We will agree to the original deal,” the queen said finally.
“Then why waste our time?” Rythos muttered. The hag ignored him, and he mounted his horse, his sword still in his hand as he approached her.
Marth went with him. Rythos held out his hand for the moss. Marth offered the coins. All of us waited in tense silence. One wrong move, and there would be bodies on the ground. I didn’t particularly mind if I had to wiggle that vial free of the stone hag’s cold, dead hand. In truth, a part of me ached for the fight. The queen met my eyes and gestured to her underling. The moss hit Rythos’s hand, the coins were snatched from Marth’s palm, and it was done.
The hags sneered, drifting back into their stone city. The first part of our plan was complete. Grim determination simmered through me. If I could, I would wage war right this second. But the next step would take even longer.
Above our heads, a falcon swooped. My brother had insisted on training the independent bird to send his messages. Hopefully, the tiny piece of parchment it would be carrying contained good news and we could move on to the next stage of our plan.
The bird landed on Marth’s shoulder, its claws tangling in his blond hair, and he winced, untying the message.
“Our contact says we need to meet him at the Gromalian border.”
The antithesis of good news. I went still. “That’s the opposite direction. It means going past the city.”
Marth sighed. “I know. According to your brother, his contact says he can’t risk traveling into Eprotha right now. Security is too tight.”
“This will cost us at least two days of travel.” If we took too long on the road, we would cut into our time in the city—and our search for what had been taken from us. That search would need to be carefully executed. Methodical. And yet, without the other vial, we wouldn’t get anywhere near the castle.
We needed to risk it.
I forced myself to take a deep breath. My revenge was so close, all my plans falling into place. If this was the worst calamity we faced over the coming weeks, I would gladly welcome it.
Marth handed me the other note in his hand.
Unfolding the parchment, I scanned it.
Dear L,
My sources tell me you will be forced to travel back to the border in order to find the package. I can practically hear you grinding your teeth, but it must be done. As long as you travel quickly, you will still be able to make your meeting.
Riniana has been asking after you. Shall I tell her you’re thinking of her?
Your older, extremely patient brother,
C
Shaking my head, I took the quill Marth handed me and scrawled my reply.
Dear C,
I suppose you think the situation with Riniana is amusing. We can’t all be happily married and sickeningly in love. Nor would most of us want to be.
We’ll travel to the package. Although I suggest next time you organize a meeting like this one, you consider just who we’re dealing with.
Your younger, much more handsome brother,
L
“We leave now,” I said. “Nothing else must delay us.”
We would need to ride all night without stopping to make up for the time we would lose. Because we were heading back in the same direction we’d come. My teeth clenched at the wasted hours.
Marth nodded. Rythos slitted his eyes at the stone behind us. “Better traveling through the forest than anywhere near this place.”
Hands trembling, I reached for a pillow and shoved it beneath Mama’s head. There was nothing we could do when the visions took her, only keep her safe.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, my stomach twisting. “We shouldn’t have left you alone.”
Long moments later, my mother went limp. I stroked her gray hair back from her face, the same way she did for me when I was sick or upset.
“Prisca?” Her voice was groggy, her movements slow, as if she were half asleep. I closed my eyes for a brief moment. I still wondered if one day she would become lost in a vision and I’d never see that spark of recognition again.
“I’m here, Mama. Do you want me to help you into bed?”
“A few hours of sleep. Just a few.”
“Okay.” I kept my voice low and soothing.
Only the gods knew why they’d given my mother visions that came randomly, usually about people she didn’t know. She’d once told me her power had been useful when she was younger, ensuring some of the wealthiest people in the kingdom came to her for advice on their marriage contracts and business dealings. But little by little, the helpful visions disappeared. Now, she was often left like this, shuddering on the floor in the aftermath of a vision she either couldn’t—or wouldn’t—understand.
Mama’s eyes closed as soon as she lay down, and I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting by the window, picturing Lina, alone and terrified in the back of a barred carriage. I would never forget that excited, hopeful grin she’d flashed. My eyes flooded.
She hadn’t even known she still had her power. So she hadn’t known to run. I scrubbed the wetness from my face.
“Prisca?”
Mama was lying in bed. Thankfully, some of the color had returned to her cheeks.
“Help me up, darling.”
I obeyed, helping her sit. My mother was losing weight. I needed to make sure she ate more at dinner tonight.
“That was a bad one,” I said quietly.
Her glazed eyes sharpened, and she nodded, reaching her hand up to cup my cheek.
“I love you so much. And everything I did was to keep you safe.”
My heart tripped at the way she looked at me. It was as if she was already in mourning.
“I know, Mama. Believe me, I know. Now let’s get you settled before Tibris comes home and fusses.”
She smiled. “He does so love to fuss.”
I helped her clean the sweat from her face, settled her at the table with a cup of tea, and heated some of the soup she’d made yesterday.
“I love you so much,” Mama murmured. “I just need you to know that.”
Whatever she’d seen in that vision had obviously shaken her. It wasn’t like her to be this emotional. “I love you too. Hey, what’s this? It’s going to be okay.”
A solitary tear trickled down her cheek, and I reached out with my other hand, wiping it away. She caught my hand in hers.
“You know you can’t stay here, Prisca.”
My chest hollowed out. For her to talk so openly about it…
I had obviously featured in her vision.
“What did you see, Mama?”
Silence.
I took a deep breath. “I know the plan was always for me to leave, but I have an idea.”
Mama just shook her head. “Whatever you’re thinking, it won’t work.”
The dismissiveness in her tone pricked at my temper. I couldn’t just give up and flee. If I ran, I would have to keep running for the rest of my life. How could I resign myself to such a fate?
I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t.
I would snatch at whatever hope I found, no matter how small that slice of hope was.
Kreilor had access to the oceartus stones. I could follow him to see where the entrance was. I’d pay attention to how he got in and steal a stone myself.
I sucked in a deep breath, and my words came out in a rush. “What if I could just store my magic in the stone temporarily? Until the Gifting? The assessor would see I had no magic, and I could—”
“Your magic doesn’t work like that.”
I stiffened. My magic didn’t work at all. Except at the worst possible moments. But this time would be different. It had to be.
Mama studied my face, amusement warring with weariness in her eyes. “You have your father’s stubborn nature. It will help you in this life—when it’s not making that life so much harder than it needs to be.”
Grief made my throat tight. I still sometimes woke up thinking I’d heard Papa’s voice. “It’s all going to be okay. You’ll see.”
She just nodded. But her expression was still forlorn.
When Tibris returned, Mama was sipping the soup I’d warmed for her.
“How was the feast?” I asked.
He gave me a faint smile. “Fine. Natan insisted on playing King’s Web.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course he did.
The game was based on myth. According to the old stories, the king’s great-great-grandfather was so sneaky, so sly, he slipped his people into foreign courts when they were children. Those children were unknowingly spelled and called “sleeping spiders.” When they were awakened, they were called to supply information or assassinate the old king’s enemies. I was still learning how to keep my face carefully blank, but last time we’d played King’s Web, I’d almost won.
I studied Tibris as he pressed a kiss to Mama’s forehead and took a seat at the table. The crease between his brows told me he was angry. And the paper clutched in his hand told me why.
Ever since Tibris’s friend Vicer had passed his Testing—with enough magic to be plucked from our village and sent to the city to apply for work, my brother had been even quieter than usual.
The letters he sent and received from Vicer were written in the same code we’d created as children. Back then, Vicer and Tibris had included me in all their plans, and I’d been privy to every secret note and hushed word. I’d trailed after them—usually with Asinia at my side—and Tibris had tolerated us with the put-upon sighs perfected by older brothers everywhere.
But these letters were different. For reasons he wouldn’t explain, Tibris refused to allow me to read them. Of course, the more secretive he was, the more curious I became. If Vicer was in trouble, I wanted to help.
I watched Tibris frown down at the letter in his hand. Now, he would likely brood for days. “I’ll go bathe.” He wandered out.
I attempted to get some answers from my mother one last time. “Mama…is there something I need to know?”
Water sounded from the other room. Tibris was filling his bath with cold water.
Mama would tell me if the king’s assessor was going to come looking for me. So what had she seen? Why was she so shaken?
Her eyes filled, and she shook her head mutely.
Seers had rules in place. Because sometimes, to tell someone their future was to bring about a fate that was much, much worse. Dread flowed into my gut and stayed there.
“I’m tired,” Mama said.
“Let me help you to bed.”
“I can do it. Good night, darling.”
I made my way back into the main room, which also served as Tibris’s bedroom. From the splashing coming from the bathing room, I knew he was still busy. But he’d left the letter from Vicer on the small, rickety table near his bed.
I shouldn’t. We weren’t children anymore. Tibris deserved his privacy. And yet…clearly, something was seriously wrong. It was my duty as his sister to help him—even if he didn’t particularly want that help.
