Lies of Murk by Eva Chase
6
Corwin
“You and your companions can make use of these rooms for as long as you need them,” I say to the man I’ve just ushered into one of the larger guest apartments in the palace of Heart’s Cadence. My gaze slides past him to the cursed woman—his mate—hunched on the bed, and my stomach clenches with the knowledge that they will only need the space here until she passes.
At the moment, I’m starkly aware of the horror of losing one’s mate. At least I can take some small measure of hope from the fact that based on the message Talia managed to convey to Whitt, she’s nowhere near death. That still doesn’t get us any closer to retrieving her from the wretched Murk that wrenched her away from me.
And with her gone, anyone the curse touches among my people have no hope at all.
A punch of tangled anger and grief hits me in the chest. I set my jaw and steady myself as well as I can. My guests are watching me.
“Let me know if there’s anything we can do to make you more comfortable,” I say. “My staff will be ready to see to your requests or summon me if necessary.”
“Thank you, arch-lord,” the man says with a dip of his head and a tight smile, and I feel I can finally step away from them.
It’s unlikely they’ll be the last to require my hospitality. Since Talia’s disappearance three days ago, they’re already the second travelers to arrive seeking her cure. My colleagues and I explained the situation in as calm a way as we could and sent the larger entourage of folk-flock who’d joined the curse victims back home. Terisse has taken the other victim and her family into her palace.
Being helpless to do anything to hold back the curse on my own only multiplies my anguish. And I can imagine how torn up Talia would be to think of the people who may die in her absence. The Murk have dealt us a harder blow than they may even realize.
Or maybe this is exactly why they’ve stolen my mate—to strike out at us in ways not just personal but with consequences for our entire realm and the summer realm besides. It’s by far the most immense gambit they’ve ever pulled off.
How were they able to sneak past so many sentries to reach Talia? To bewitch the Seelie woman before that and force her to draw Talia away from the celebration to the forest where she was more vulnerable? It’s beyond anything we’ve ever seen or heard of the Murk before, and that leaves uneasiness twisted all through my gut.
I’ve only made it partway down the hall from the guest quarters when one of my staff hurries over to me. My heart sinks with the thought that yet another curse victim has arrived, but what he actually says doesn’t make me feel much better.
“Arch-Lord Laoni is waiting in the terrace room, my lord,” he says. “She wishes to speak to you.”
I grit my teeth and set off to see what my most hostile colleague wants now.
It doesn’t surprise me to discover that Laoni hasn’t even bothered to sit down. She’s standing between the scattered chairs, gazing out the tall windows that look over the terrace and the sweeping landscape beyond. As if to remind me that she doesn’t jump to my bidding, she stays there for a moment after I’ve entered the room before deigning to turn to face me.
“Corwin,” she says, studying my face. “You look frazzled.”
Her tone gives the observation an implied criticism, as if I should be totally at peace even with my soul-twined mate in the hands of our greatest enemies. I bite back the cutting remark that leaps onto my tongue, pulling together the appearance of professionalism. “I’d imagine that’s not surprising, considering the circumstances. It hasn’t affected my duties.”
Her eyes narrow, and I suppose she’s thinking about my mother—about how completely she fell apart when she lost her own soul-twined mate with my father’s death. The other arch-lords have always questioned my fitness for the position based on their fears about my familial “instability.” Even after Talia cured Laoni and kept her curse secret as Laoni wished, she’s still out to pick at me every way she can.
“What progress have you made toward finding your mate?” she demands, as if the only reason we haven’t retrieved Talia yet is some failing on my part.
“I have sentries and soldiers, including three of my coterie members, scouring every inch of the realm for any trace of Murk presence,” I say tightly. “Arch-Lord Sylas is doing the same on the summer side.”
“And yet they’ve turned up nothing.”
No doubt she’s only concerned because of what fate she’ll meet if we don’t rescue Talia within the next few weeks, before the curse returns to her. I fold my arms over my chest. “If you wish to see faster proceedings, you’re welcome to add more of your own flock to the search.”
Laoni’s chin comes up. “I’ve sent several on that quest already. I can’t leave my domain completely undefended if the filthy rats decide to strike out in some other way.”
“Well, I’m doing everything I can,” I say, my patience fraying too much for me to keep the irritation out of my voice. “It is my soul-twined mate they have, and I won’t rest until she’s back by my side. If you have a suggestion that might actually help, by all means, share it. Otherwise, as far as I can tell you’re only here to harass me.”
Laoni’s expression twitches, and her gaze hardens. A flash of shame rushes through me. I’ve worked so hard on keeping a controlled front, especially with my colleagues. My fears for Talia are unraveling me.
“I’ll leave you to your work, then,” Laoni says stiffly, and marches off to the terrace to fly to her own domain.
After she’s soared off, I remain in the room for several minutes, gripping the back of one of the armchairs. My pulse thuds in a heavy rhythm. With every beat, the emptiness where my connection to Talia should be reverberates through me, digging the pain of her absence deeper.
I can’t let my distress shatter me completely. I’ll have no chance of fighting for Talia then, and I’ll fail my flock and all the other people I rule over as well. But how can I center myself when such a huge piece of my soul is missing?
My gaze rises to the ceiling. There is someone in this palace who has an idea of what I’m experiencing. I don’t know if she’ll be at all coherent, but maybe talking to her will help me sort through the turmoil inside me at least a little.
I move through the halls swiftly, not wanting to be interrupted while I’m so unsettled. As I climb up the staircase that leads to my mother’s quarters, I consider casting the usual calming spell to soothe her nerves before I enter. But perhaps she deserves the respect of being faced in her genuine state, with all the anguish she’s dealing with that I rarely see these days.
I wish there was a better way to keep her from harming herself without locking her up. But the memories of the horrific scenes that resulted from her past attempts at ending her life, always in vain but not without gore and bloodshed, make the thought of offering her the freedom she deserves impossible.
“Mother, it’s me,” I call through the locked door. “I’m coming in.”
When I open it, I find her crouched near the stairs that lead up to her bedroom. She takes a leap forward as if to spring for the open entrance, but I close the door and quickly lock it.
Mother’s shoulders slump. She darts over to the table she’s upended yet again and then hunches there, swaying slightly.
“Hello, Mother,” I say quietly, my heart wrenching all over again. I can’t imagine being reduced to the near-feral state she’s in, but I can understand the agony she’s gone through better than I ever could before.
I walk across the room and sit on the floor against the built-in shelves, across from her current refuge. She mutters under her breath and then adds in a voice that’s almost a whimper, “Let me out. Let me end it.”
I swallow hard. “You know you can’t, no matter where you go or what you do. The Heart won’t let you destroy the life it’s given you.”
Her chest heaves with a strangled sob. She drops her head into her hands.
“You feel like that life has already been destroyed, don’t you?” I murmur. “Part of your soul ripped away from you. I—I may have to face the same thing.”
Mother twitches, and then lifts her gaze to take me in. “Your mate…”
“You might remember Talia? She’s come to see you before. She… The Murk have taken her. They’ve interrupted our soul-twined bond somehow. I can’t sense her at all.”
Another surge of emotion rolls over me with the admission, even though it isn’t new. I bring my hand to my mouth as if I’m in danger of sobbing myself.
Coming here might have been misguided. Am I only making myself feel worse?
But before I can decide to leave, Mother eases forward. Haltingly, she crosses the room until she’s squatting right in front of me. Her head cocks as if she’s trying to make out who I am.
Then she reaches and, for the first time since her grief overwhelmed everything else, takes my hand.
“My son,” she says in a small, thin voice.
I squeeze her fingers, a bittersweet ache forming in my chest at the gesture. “I’ll—I’ll make it through. I have to. But I just wanted to see you. You’re the only one I know who’s been through it and won’t judge me for my pain.”
She stares at me for a long moment. Something clears in her eyes, just briefly. “If I could have shielded you from the horror of it,” she says, and lapses back into silence.
“I know you couldn’t have, any more than I could have protected you. I still can’t really help you, as much as I’d like to. But… you’re not alone.”
Mother sways back and forth as if to some imaginary song and then swipes her forearm past her reddened eyes. “I am, but I’m not. I—” She focuses in on me again, gripping my hand. “It’s the deepest pain for the deepest bond. But for all the pain, I wouldn’t have given it up. We are lucky to have ever been so blessed—to have gotten what time we had—” She inhales raggedly and drops her head again, a tremor running through her. “If I could only follow that bond to its end…”
“I know,” I say, my own voice raw, but something inside me has steadied.
Disturbed as she is, there’s truth in what she said. I’m lucky to have been twined so closely with a woman like Talia for as even as short a time as I was. I need to focus on that and not the loss of it—on what I’ll still have, when we defeat the Murk, not on anticipating an even greater loss.
“Thank you,” I say. “For hearing me. For your words. Is there anything I can bring you—”
The wildness is already returning to her eyes. She flings her arm toward the door. “To go out—to find a blade or a cliff—”
My throat constricts. “It won’t work. But maybe, if we can finally end this curse, you’ll find at least as much peace as you just gave me.”
