Marissa stood over the sleeping Sabina, a pinch of regret tugging at her abdomen. The mongrel pup watched her with solemnity but didn’t growl or yip to give away her presence. She held Taryn’s journal in her hand. An elaborate scrawl written in a language Marissa wasn’t familiar with covered several pages. She tapped the book against her thigh, debating. No, she couldn’t take it. That would alarm Taryn. It was probably nothing more than love sonnets written to Rhoane, and Marissa had no need of reading those.
She carefully replaced the book where she’d found it and returned to Sabina. She ran a hand lightly over the princess’s sleeping form. This time, Kaida growled a warning that sounded much stronger than her size. Not wanting to try Kaida’s patience, Marissa placed a light kiss on Sabina’s lips and left the tent.
She kept to the shadows to avoid any unwanted attention. As she rounded the corner to her tent, a hand clamped over her mouth, and she was whisked into absolute blackness. Her scream fell in silent air. A moment later, she was standing on the far side of the lake, staring up at the steely gaze of Valterys. She twisted from his grip and looked around wildly.
“Blood and ashes, what are you doing here?”
“Protecting our future. Something you should be doing but, since you are too preoccupied with satisfying your lustful cravings, have woefully overlooked.”
Marissa could see the tents from where they stood, could see soldiers patrolling the perimeter. If she could see them, they could see her. “We should move this discussion to the trees.”
Valterys barked a laugh. “They can neither hear nor see us, my darling.” He stroked a finger from her temple to her chin. “While you were visiting my son, I’ve been spending time with your lady-in-waiting.”
“Celia? Why?”
“Are you aware of her plans to use the Summerlands girl to bring Kaldaar out of exile?”
Marissa was agog. Celia? Her Celia? “Impossible. He was banished to the world of nonexistence. There is no return.”
“False. She’s somehow learned how to do it and is very close to carrying out her plans.” He wrapped an errant curl around his fingertip. “Our lord is most vexed to hear his brother might gain his freedom while he simmers in his prison.”
A tremble started in her heart and made its way to the tips of her toes. “She wouldn’t. Couldn’t.”
“Oh, but she would and she has. She’s working with a pathetic twit, but someone else is helping her. I can’t tell who, but they are skilled in the Black Arts. A Master would be my guess.”
“But why her? Why now?” Marissa glanced back to the encampment. “Is this because of Taryn?”
“She plays into this somehow, but I’m not sure exactly. From what I’ve learned, Celia’s Master has been grooming her for some time. Several seasons is my guess. The timing of the Eirielle’s return can’t be a coincidence.”
“For several seasons? I would’ve known.”
“That’s the tricky thing with the Black Arts. You never know until it’s too late. Celia was lured by the promise of everlasting love.”
Marissa scoffed. “You’re jesting. Love? She’s jeopardizing everything for something as trivial as love?”
Valterys’s eyes softened, his breathing deepened. “For some, love is the only thing that matters. For Celia, it’s worth destroying Aelinae.”
“What do you need me to do?” Marissa fumed. She’d given Celia plenty of love, but it wasn’t enough, apparently.
“Stop her. Prevent her from carrying out the ceremony. If the vessel is filled, Kaldaar will return and all our plans will be for naught.”
“What’s this vessel?”
“That, my darling, is for you to discover. Even Celia doesn’t know for sure.” He looked to where several lights bobbed by the shoreline. “You should be in your tent or they might sound the alarm.” He wrapped her in his embrace, and once again the darkness folded around them.
Sound returned, and she stood in the center of her tent, alone.
Celia wasn’t in her cot, a fact that irritated her. The girl was out of control.
The tent flap opened, and Celia rushed in, out of breath, her hair in disarray. Upon seeing Marissa, she knelt before her mistress, kissing her fingertips.
“Where have you been?”
“I went for a swim in the lake.”
Marissa eyed her dry hair, the slight blush to her skin. “You are lying to me, my dove.”
A frenzied madness lurked in Celia’s eyes. Her cloak slipped to the ground, revealing her trembling, naked body.
“You were with him, weren’t you? Your mysterious lover?” Marissa ran her hand along Celia’s full breasts.
“I can’t help it, my lady. When he calls, I feel compelled to join him. I’ve tried to stay away, but I can’t. I’m weak.”
Marissa knew all too well the pull of Dark Shanti, its intoxication. “What does he tell you when you are together?”
“He tells me I’m beautiful.”
Marissa let her fingers trail down the curve of Celia’s belly to the apex of her legs. “And what do you tell him when you are alone?”
A shudder passed through the girl. Pleasure? Panic?
“I tell him what he means to me. How he makes me feel.”
“Is that all?”
Celia’s gaze darted around the room, an uneasy dance that ended with her eyes rolling up until only the whites could be seen. She collapsed in a heap.
Marissa leapt back, glancing from left to right for the source of Celia’s ailment. She spread her arms wide, fingers outstretched. “Morn dracthmas kuldirath benyous, soulvalkas teramir.”
A hiss issued from the unconscious girl, and a moment later, the tent filled with blackened smoke. Marissa stared down the face that billowed in the haze. Its unrecognizable features shifted and expanded, its gaping mouth elongating, moving quickly over her until it consumed her and everything went black.