had taken her. He had expected anything but this calm self-possession. But of course he should have known. She was a Corpse again, schooled to carry herself as one without fear, no matter how acutely she felt it…
“It’s true then,” he said. “Saric took you.”
Nothing.
“How?”
She rose from her chair.
“Once again you invade my chambers, Rom Sebastian. History repeats itself, after all.”
She folded her hands, placing her left hand over her right. There was no mistaking the heavy ring of office on her finger. Sovereign.
He’d come expecting nothing less, but seeing it so vividly confirmed…
Nine years flashed before his eyes. The lives of Avra. Of his mother. His father. The old first Keeper he had met.
Every memory now at her mercy.
He strode to her, half-expecting her to take a startled step back. But she didn’t. Instead, she allowed him to drop to one knee and take her hand.
Rom had been so distracted by the sight of her alive that he’d pushed aside the scents in the room, but now so close to her they registered again, demanding to be noted.
Dark Blood. Heavy as tar in his nostrils.
He looked up at her eyes. Black.
For a moment he froze. Now he saw the black sprawl of vein up her cheek.
Her gaze held no fear. She seemed to be taking him in, as though his sudden proximity had ignited strange fascination. Memory, perhaps-a tumult of emotions passing through those eyes like a confused mosaic.
“Feyn,” Rom said, pushing down his panic. “We’ll find a way to fix this. Where’s Saric now?”
Her gaze flicked to his left, over his shoulder. Rom spun around, expecting to see Saric himself. Instead he found himself staring at Jonathan and Roland. Their hoods were off, their scarves pulled down from their faces.
“Who is this?” Feyn said. But something in her tone told him she already knew.
Rom stepped to the side.
“This is Jonathan. The boy you gave your life for.” He fell silent as the two considered one another in the dimly lit chamber.
“Jonathan…,” Feyn said faintly.
“Yes.”
She glanced at Rom and then walked past him, stopping just short of Jonathan who continued to take her in without a word.
“I remember you,” she said. “The boy on the horse. Coming to take the seat I gave up. And now here we are. What are we to do? Two Sovereigns. But only one now.” Her gaze left his eyes to trail over his braids. She reached out, took several of them between her fingers, thumb brushing over them thoughtfully. They were all tied with black cords for skill in the games and adorned with feathers-gifts from children.
“I remember you as well,” he said softly.
“They said you were crippled.”
“I was. But my leg healed.”
“It’s his blood,” Rom said. “Like the blood you tasted once, but much more. We’ve all taken it. We see differently now. We feel emotion, but we sense in ways that we never did before. There are many of us now. We call ourselves Mortals.”
“Indeed?”
“You died for me,” Jonathan said. “I owe my life to you.”
Feyn was silent. A tear slid out the corner of her eye. Jonathan lifted his hand, as though to touch it, but before he could she had dropped his braid and brushed it quickly away.
She turned to Roland.
“And who is this?”
“This is Roland.”
“A Nomad,” she said in a musing voice, seeming to take in not only his appearance but his very stature. She tilted her head. “Not just a Nomad, but a prince, I think. And so the stories are true. You still exist.”
“Indeed we do,” Roland said, inclining his head. He showed her respect, but Rom knew he would not bow before Order-or any other Corpse, for that matter. Only another Mortal would have noticed the barely perceptible way that he stiffened when she stepped toward him. The way his nostrils flared slightly at the smell of Dark Blood. And it was strong. Strong, but different from that of the Dark Blood that Roland had brought back to camp.
“I take it you’ve taken the office of your ring,” Roland said. “Before the senate?”
“Yes.”
He glanced at Rom. “We must hurry.”
Rom pushed aside the questions flooding his mind and nodded.
“Feyn… you remember why you gave your life for the boy?”
She looked at him, eyes dark, expressionless. “I remember.”
“Then you know how critical it is that he rule this world…”
He waited for her answer, breath stilled.
She gave none. But that was good enough for now.
“He must bring the world back to life from this office, either as Sovereign or through you.” He flipped his hand. “We can figure it all out later. For now we act on what we know, which is this: Saric wants to rule. How he managed to stay alive and find you, we don’t know, but he can only have one purpose. Surely you know his intentions.”
He couldn’t tell if she was at a loss or just allowing him to make his plea.
He continued, picking his words carefully. “Nine years ago as Sovereign, he changed the laws of succession. You do realize that if you were to die now,
She hesitated and then offered a single, shallow nod.
“At any moment he could reach out and kill you and rise to power.”
“Saric will not kill me,” she said.
“And what would stop him?”
“Love.”
“Love? Evil knows no love!”
“Then I am evil?” she asked with a raised brow. It was a soft-spoken challenge, not a question.
“No. But we can’t take any chances. You must remember Jonathan’s destiny to rule and save the world!”
She shifted her gaze to the boy who seemed to return her rapt interest.
“Is that how you feel?” she asked him.
“My blood brings life,” he said. “Not death. You died for me once… I don’t want you to die again.”
They faced off like two lost souls meeting for the first time. Two unsure Sovereigns at a critical crossing. Jonathan was only being crafty, he thought. Feyn…
The Sovereign was critically confused.
“How did Saric bring you back to life?” Rom asked.
“With his blood,” she said. “Isn’t that how you showed me life once? Through blood?”
“His?” How was it possible? “Saric’s?”
“This surprises you?”
“You’re saying blood from his
“From his veins,” she said.
The revelation felt like a blow.
Roland moved closer, glancing at the door. “We don’t have time.”
Rom held up his hand. “There can be no comparison between whatever alchemy Saric has conjured up and Jonathan’s blood. Surely you know that.”
No response.
