Page 118 of This Dark Descent
Footsteps echoed on the landing and Reid burst into the room, three constables on his tail.
“There he is.” Reid pointed at Loic.
One of the Anthir stepped forward. “Loic Adair, you’re under arrest for the murder of High Lord Eradas Kelbra.”
Loic’s nostrils flared. “No.” He backed away as the guards advanced on him. “No! I am head of House Adair. You can’t just arrest me. You can’t—”
“Damien is my heir.” Galan’s voice cut smoothly across his son’s.
A crazed look sparked in Loic’s eyes. He dropped the head, going for a revolver at his hip, but Ari seized hold of him. He writhed in her verillion-enhanced grasp, but the constables rushed forward, cuffing his hands behind his back. If they had anything to say about the girl who restrained a man twice her size, they kept it to themselves.
Damien turned away as the constables dragged Loic outside. Unlike the smug satisfaction evident on Reid’s face, Damien almost looked pained. Loic and he might have been at odds, but he was still his brother. Still family. It must have cut deep to see him fall like this.
A painful silence lingered in the constables’ wake. In it, Damien’s gazeslid to Shira, who hadn’t moved from her spot at the desk. They shared a brief look, then Mr. Eross held something out to Damien. A new house ring, nearly identical to the old one, save for one small difference: the loop of gold around the central stone, denoting the truth for all who saw it.
He was head of House Adair.
CHAPTER 45
MIKIRA
AFTER GETTING HERinjuries tended to, Mikira spent nearly an hour looking for Rezek among the post-race celebration to no avail. Eventually, she tried the manor, but she’d barely reached the door when a Kelbra guard stepped in front of her.
“No one is allowed in at this time,” he said.
“I have business with Lord Kelbra,” she said. “My father—”
“I don’t care about your father, little girl. Lord Kelbra will not be disturbed right now.”
She stood there, seeking the words to make him understand and knowing that nothing she said would help. The race was done, the bargain set. Her father would be safe until tomorrow evening, when she could corner Rezek at the closing ball.
Mikira took Atara home.
Though she’d never really considered who the horse belonged to, Ari had made it clear that Atara belonged with Mikira, and Atara had made her choice on the matter even clearer. She gave the horse every apple she could find when they got there, before letting her out in what had once been Iri’s paddock. The long grass swayed in her wake, and for a while Mikira just leaned on the fence and watched her run, thinking of another horse.
The images of Iri’s death were imprinted in her mind, and there wasa part of her that couldn’t look at Atara without seeing them. The mare had only been protecting her, and she was unaware of how deeply she’d wounded Mikira in the process. She didn’t blame the golem. Or at least, she didn’t want to, but the knot in her stomach grew tighter each time she looked at her, until she couldn’t bear it any longer.
If only she could undo the past.
Reid was true to his word, and someone arrived shortly after her return with Iri’s body. She had only to direct them where to bury it and wait alongside them until they’d finished, leaving her alone at the edge of a grave. There she remained until she couldn’t any longer, and then she turned for the house, some parts of her weighing heavily, others lighter than they’d been in years. The invitation to the party at the Adair pub sat folded in her pocket, but she had been away from her family long enough.
She found Nelda and Ailene curled up with Wolf on the couch. Ailene was asleep, Nelda buried in a book. She looked up when Mikira entered, then did a double take.
“Kira!” She flung the book aside, leaping to her feet.
Mikira caught her, holding tight even as her injured forearm complained.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Nelda’s voice choked, and she squeezed Mikira tighter.
“Kira?”
They pulled apart, both facing a slowly waking Ailene. Her eyes found the bandages on Mikira’s forearm and shoulder, and she sat up abruptly. “You’re hurt—”
“I’m fine.” She twisted her wrist to prove it. “How are you feeling?”
Ailene stared at her uncomprehendingly. “Kira. The race?”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “I hope you two are ready to be famous, because you’re looking at the youngest person to ever win the Illinir.”
