The water wasn’t the murky brown of dirt, but rather a deep shade of rust.
Blood.
Killian’s blood.
Her breathing accelerated, turning into fast little gasps, the room swimming in and out of focus. She crouched down, pressing her hands to the floor for balance, shivering violently, her skin like ice.
“He’s alive,” she whispered. “You’re alive. And both of you are set to the purposes for which you were destined.”
But the truth did nothing to drive away the cold.
5TERIANA
“This is going to take forever,” Servius muttered, wiping sweat from his brow, his brown eyes uncharacteristically shadowed. Whether it was from lack of sleep or other concerns, Teriana didn’t know. “We’ll need some sort of containers. Half these chests have gone to rot.”
No sooner had the words exited his lips, the bottom of the chest he was holding fell out, spilling coins everywhere. All of them gold and stamped with the scorpion of House Rowenes. “That’s odd,” she muttered.
Servius scooped up a handful, examining them with a practiced eye. “This is the most solid clink I’ve come across. Looks pure, too. Where’s it from?”
“Mudamora, on the Northern Continent.” She rubbed her thumb over a coin. The largest gold mines on Reath were on the Rowenes lands, which were near the border of Mudamora and Anukastre. “But they don’t trade with Arinoquia, so it’s odd to find so much of their coinage here.”
And all of it freshly minted, bearing no signs of wear. Which suggested an expensive purchase, and one only a High Lord—or even the King himself—could afford. Shrugging, she tossed it back in the pile and set to work.
It was dusty, laborious work, but there was also something soothing about it. This was what she’d trained most of her life to do—not to sail a ship, but to be a merchant who knew wares well enough to come out ahead in every bargain. If not for the circumstances, Teriana thought her mother would be proud.
At the thought of her mother, Teriana’s chest constricted painfully. Was Lydia’s father keeping her safe? She’d always believed Senator Valerius a kind and honorable individual, but she’d thought the same about Lydia. And she could not have been more wrong on that front. Part of her wondered if she’d ever have the opportunity to see Lydia again. What she would say to her, if given the chance. If Lydia even cared how much hurt she’d caused.
“Is there any news from my crew?” she asked Servius. “Do you know if they are well?”
The Quincense was apparently anchored next to a tiny island off the coast, with men from the Thirty-Seventh, as well as some from the Cel navy, keeping her crew under guard. Before she’d dispatched Bait north, he and Magnius had been running messages back and forth, but now she had no contact with them at all other than what the Cel deigned to tell her.
“Nothing new,” Servius answered. “But we’ll be sending supplies and some of the injured to join that outpost soon enough. I hear anything of note, I’ll let you know.”
She twisted a braid around one finger, grimacing at the state her hair was in without her aunt Yedda to put in fresh braids. She looked fuzzy and unkempt, but her appearance hadn’t been a priority. What would her aunt say if she knew of all the things Teriana had done? If she learned about Teriana and Marcus? Would she, or any of the rest of the crew, understand?
Was it right to ask them to?
They worked through the day, only pausing when Servius’s stomach let out a ferocious growl. “I’m starving,” he declared to the legionnaires standing guard. “One of you boys get some grub for us. Buy it from a civilian—I’m sick of the slop we’re serving in camp.” He tossed one of them a coin. “Enough for all here, plus three. I’ve a mighty hunger.”
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Teriana glanced at the ledger she was holding, adding the totals in her head. Already the amount was staggering, and it didn’t even include the bricks of precious metals that were piling high in a building near the forge.
When the food arrived, Servius called a halt to the work, leaning against a moldering tapestry, his feet resting on bolts of silk that were marked with dark stains that looked suspiciously like blood. He was easily one of the largest men she’d ever met who wasn’t an actual giant, his tunic sleeves stretched around biceps thicker than her thighs. That, more than the hue of his brown skin, spoke to his Atlian heritage, the island province known to breed people of impressive stature. That, in combination with what was undeniably an attractive face, made Servius tremendously popular with Arinoquian women.
“So,” he said. “You going to tell me what happened on your way back from Galinha? What we know is mostly what was ascertained from what was left behind, if you get my meaning.”
Bodies. Of the young men who’d been watching over her, including Quintus and Miki. Tears pricked in her eyes, knowing they’d died protecting her. “We received Marcus’s message recalling us to camp. Set out the next morning. We were about halfway back when Quintus noticed something was off.” She shook her head, trying to wipe away the remembered fear rising in her chest. “Was too quiet. And then next thing I knew, arrows were flying.”
Her chin trembled, and she took a mouthful of food to hide it, though her appetite was long gone. “Quintus got
