Page 136 of The Stolen Throne
I always thought she was silly for that kind of faith in me.
Horus lays Vida gently on the ground, then whispers a final, well-used prayer over her, asking the goddesses to look kindly on her soul.
Omma waits for him to finish, at least, before stating what I’d already realized. “Vida knew all of our plans.”
Her words yank me unforgivably into what happens next. I don’t have the luxury of mourning. Because she’s right. After staying behind to take care of everyone while we went to Tyndra, the Vanished voted Vida to be the representative for those from Wildernyss. She’s been in on all the discussions since we got back.
Hells.
Memories pile up, the poison of suspicion leaking into each one. Vida has to be how Eidolon knew where we’d be when we went to Trysolde. I told Omma, who brought the information back to the zariph and the Vanished…and Vida.
Did her spying start before that? The soldiers who came to the Shadowood and killed so many of the Vanished—was she their source of information?
I’m staring at her face, her dark silvery hair spread out over the sand, and suddenly I don’t know it at all. Don’t know her at all. And I never did. I was lulled into some sense of friendship because I craved it, and maybe she could see that. Took advantage.
I don’t want to believe that about her. I want to believe she was my friend.
“It’s likely the king is aware of our plans now, too,” Omma points out. Her eyes are still hard and cold. She always was one to point out the ugly facts.
Horus pushes to his feet. “We should assume Eidolon knows that we’re going after the amulets, but he can’t have heard about the burning lands yet. The zariphate has been on the move too much. She hasn’t had time to get that message to him.”
I shake my head. With ghosts of Eidolon wandering around… “We can’t be sure of that.”
“Which is why we need to leave now,” Omma says. “The time for debate is over.”
“I can fly you there,” Bene says.
Me in midair with nothing but a fall to my death if I slip off? Hells no to that. I’m in a desert full of sand. I’ll make a portal.
What I don’t say is now—thanks to Vida—I’m questioning the Devourer’s motives, too. He didn’t stop Vida’s attack. Is that because he wants his goddess released? Eidolon would do that for him. Or try to.
Doubts pummel me. What if Eidolon is waiting in the burning lands for me? What if it’s a trap? Should I tell Reven?
No. Definitely not. He’ll either stop us or insist on going, too, and Reven with his tenuous control in a land of death and souls would be a disaster. Especially with goddess-knows how many of Eidolon’s ghosts wandering around in there.
“I’ll go with you,” Horus says.
“No, you will not,” Omma says with all the authority of a former false queen. She hefts Tabra against her side, which tells me how much she’s holding my sister up. “We are going with Meren.”
Tabra’s eyes snap wide open. We haven’t had a chance to talk to her about Omma’s idea. “Me?”
Oh good, maybe she won’t want to go. I glance at Omma, hopeful. “We could leave her with Horus.”
Tabra’s face suddenly takes on a mulish cast, chin jutting out. Is that what I look like when I get stubborn? “What if it’s not just royal bloodlines but only the sovereign who is allowed to enter?”
There goes that hope. She’s still as frail as a new bamboo reed. It’s even more shocking when she’s up and walking because it makes me wonder how her bones aren’t snapping under the strain of staying upright.
“I can be helpful, too, Meren. Not just some burden to be dragged around.”
Hells.
“So I’m going.”
This is happening.
I twitch my signet ring, taking in each of them. “What about everyone else?”
“We’ll continue to move the camp. And I’ll keep the peace as best I can,” Horus assures me, but there’s no hiding his grimace at the last part. There will be no peace once Reven and Cain find out what I’ve done. They’ll probably make Vos freeze me in a brick of ice the second they find me.
