Willing to Endure: A Dark Fantasy (The Shedim Rebellion Book 3) by Fitzpatrick Burke

Author:Fitzpatrick, Burke [Fitzpatrick, Burke]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9780991057252
Publisher: Blade Books LLC
Published: 2015-03-26T04:00:00+00:00

Marah watched Lahar’s heart beat again, and his gray color pinked. His eyes shot open. His ribs flexed as he took in a deep breath. He choked at the end of it and sputtered, but when he could breathe again, he eyeballed Marah. She struggled to see him with her better eye. She assumed she frightened him and patted his leg to offer comfort. He flinched instead.

Lahar glanced at Dura and Larz. “What did you do?”

Marah said, “I cannot take away the pain. The runes are killing you.”

“I’m dying?”

A voice whispered, He will live a little while longer. If he wants to.

“Your body fights to live. If you give up, so will it.”

Larz backed away and shared Lahar’s crazed look. “She is a prophet.”

Dura viciously told him never to say that again. Marah watched them with little interest. The voices had told her such things years ago, but Dura insisted they keep them secret. Marah’s attention stayed on Lahar. She wanted to make him feel better. He should feel better, but he hurt more instead.

Lahar asked, “Why?”

Marah said, “You are the King without a Crown.”

“I don’t want that title.”

“I must protect you so that one day you can protect me.”

“You don’t sound like a little girl.”

“All of my friends are old. Many are older than Dura.”

“All right, that’s enough.” Dura shooed Marah toward the door. “You’ve done quite enough. We will discuss this later.”

“Was I supposed to let him die?”

“I don’t know, child. Give me time to think.”

“She can lay on hands,” Larz said. “No one since Jethlah has been able to do that.”

“The temple must never learn of this.” Dura twisted between Marah and Larz, caught between lecturing them both. “You must keep these things secret. You must convince people that they are only runes.”

Marah asked, “But why?”

“Because the temple will use you against their enemies.”

Marah picked her way through the room and returned to the stairs.

The priests will raise you above all of Alivar’s children and all the kings and queens of the lands. They will force the twelve tribes of man to bow before you.

Marah listened to the voice as she climbed the stairs to her room. But why?

The high priestess wants to be the first female prophet. She will not enjoy it when you steal her glory. She will use your power to enrich herself.

But I will make her understand.

How? You don’t understand yourself.

Marah closed the door to the living quarters and opened a window to air out the smell of the inks. She hated the etchings. The odor lingered in the tower for days. It clung to everyone’s clothes and hair and required multiple baths to wash away. In her bedroom, she found a presence. She halted with one foot in the room, terrified for no reason at all. The light dimmed. She was not alone. The voices in her head stilled, and in the strange quietness, she could hear each beat of her heart.

She had no idea what the new thing was, but it was primal and raw.

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