Daindreth's Sorceress by Elisabeth Wheatley

Author:Elisabeth Wheatley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elisabeth Wheatley
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Vesha

Vesha woke up slumped on a settee in her sister’s rooms. Odette’s voice spoke from the corner, too low for Vesha to make out the words at first.

The empress’s head still throbbed, but her throat no longer felt scorched and scratchy. Her feet ached. Her delicate ladies’ shoes hadn’t been meant for the abuse of the Dread Marches, but when she looked down, she wore a clean blue dress and signs of the long trek had been scrubbed away.

Her hair was neatly braided and though the many cuts and scratches on her hands were still there, the blood was gone. In some places, hints of dirt were still wedged in the wounds, but Odette had probably done her best.

“They’re not going to kill us,” Odette said confidently.

“How can you be sure?” Zeyna’s question dissolved into a whimper. “The servants have fled, Serapio is one of them, and my sister lies senseless.”

“If they wanted us dead, we would be.” Odette had a sound head on her shoulders, it seemed.

Zeyna let off a horrified shriek that muffled into a groan.

Vesha smeared a hand over her face, forcing herself upright. Sunlight filtered through the window of the dressing room, though it was dim and overcast. Dark trails of smoke drifted over the sky. She couldn’t hear the screams anymore, but a sick feeling told her that was because there was no one left to scream. “What have I done?”

A sharp pain shot through her right temple, radiating out from the god-eye and through her skull. She winced as the thought flitted away.

Fresh determination and focus came over her. She needed to keep her mind on what was in front of her. She needed to stay on task—keeping the empire together.

“Odette?” Vesha stood, leaning on the armrest of the couch for support.

The handmaiden stood before Zeyna, comforting the panicked woman. “My lady!” Odette jumped. “You’re awake.”

“Yes.” Vesha inhaled, squaring her shoulders. She looked to her sister. “Have you found your children yet?”

“No,” Zeyna moaned, a heaviness coming over her as she lowered her head.

“Hmm.” Vesha turned her attention back to Odette, the only other useful person here. “Where is Caa Iss? I need to speak with him.”

Odette shook her head. “I don’t know, my lady. We haven’t seen anyone else.”

Vesha glanced around the room. She snatched up an overdress from one of the couches—Zeyna always had left her clothes lying everywhere. Vesha threw it on impatiently, flinging her braid over one shoulder.

“My lady, let me help—”

Vesha brushed Odette aside and stormed from the room, tying the sash of the overdress herself. “Caa Iss!” Vesha shouted to the empty halls of the mansion. “Show yourself!”

Odette and Zeyna followed her into the hall, huddling around her like nervous ducklings.

“Your Majesty,” Zeyna whispered, shoulders hunched, glancing left and right. “I don’t think we should—”

“Now!” Vesha snarled into the mansion, her voice rippling through the air like the crackle before lightning strikes.

Odette and Zeyna cowered back, the countess hiding behind the handmaiden.

“My dear empress,” Caa Iss crooned from the shadows.

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