Marcellus stared at her. What kind of game is she playing? "In return for what?"
"For the Shama."
"Never." He felt heat surge against his chest. "You have hounded her long enough. Know this — I will never stop hunting you so long as you pursue her. I will destroy all of you if that is what it takes."
"Alaric does not fear Reavers." Her tone was playfully casual. "He slays them. He has done so before. Not even you can stand before Mothros, the sword that is the bane of your kind."
Marcellus folded his arms. "I do not see Alaric here. If he would face me, let him come."
A sneer curled her lip. "You do not see the bigger picture, so focused on the tiny circle you exist in. You see nothing beyond your arrogance and rage. Should you march against us, you will lose. Your armies will shatter; their broken bodies will be your legacy. Your kingdom is already weak. And you know the larger threat that is coming."
Valdemar Basilis. War. Marcellus unconsciously fingered the thin scar on his cheek. He envisioned the barbaric hordes as they crashed down the Dragonspine like a monstrous wave, burning and killing as they advanced.
Serona smiled. "You know what I speak of. Leodia is brittle, vulnerable to attack. Yet you are willing to ignore that to pursue your paltry vendetta. How noble."
"You ask me for something I cannot give."
"You're not being objective, Marcellus. You mean to tell me that one life is worth more than thousands more? The Shama need not be harmed in this exchange. It is the staff we want. She is simply the bearer. Should she agree to surrender it, she will be free to go as well."
"So you can heal yourselves. Become immortal again."
"No one is truly immortal. Let us say that we will be in our original state again."
"Ageless. Powerful. Unstoppable."
"Grateful." Serona laid a hand on his chest. Despite the heavy layers of fur, he felt the warmth as though she touched his naked skin. Her eyes gazed into his. "You would find us to be powerful allies. In a world so tumultuous, our aid would quite advantageous, I assure you."
His head felt muddled as her words made an unlikely type of sense. Is it possible she speaks the truth?
Her eyes practically glowed, never leaving his face. "You and I are linked; you must see that. Do you not feel my presence? Our people could be linked similarly. Apart we are vulnerable but united we are invincible. Trust my words, Marcellus. There is no better way than this."
"No." His mind cleared at the word. She was focusing Coercion, he realized. The manipulation was expertly gentle, intertwining with her reasoning to persuade him more strongly. She had not expected the rebuttal. Her eyes widened slightly before she quickly masked her surprise.
Marcellus went on. "I will never betray Nyori. Never. If you gambled on that notion, then you have come this far for nothing."
Serona stared at him for a long moment before drawing her hand away and taking a step back. The wind pelted them with wet snow that melted the moment it touched her, soaking her silks and streaming down her ceremonial armor.
"Nyori." She spat the word. "You say her name with such passion, Marcellus. Do you love the Shama? Has she somehow sown roses in the graveyard of your heart?"
Marcellus turned his face, damning himself for a fool. You should never have spoken her name. "The Shama is under my vow of protection. You will not come near her. Tell your king that there will be no terms so long as they involve surrendering her."
Serona's laughter mocked him. "So it is true. What a quandary for your resolve. A slave cannot toil for two mistresses, Marcellus. When it all is on the line, will you serve Leilavin, or will your feelings for the Shama rule you? I cannot wait to find out."
Marcellus felt the storm surge inside of him. The winds seemed to respond, whirling snow around as though he stood in the center of a tempest. "You would ask me of love? I loved my wife and daughter. Their deaths I lay at your feet."
Her gaze was uncaring, containing neither mockery nor guilt. "I did not kill your family, Marcellus. That was the work of rebels in the Sects."
"One and the same. Your people, your work. I have lost all I held dear. What makes you think I would ever forget that?"
"You think you are the only one who has known love?" Serona stared defiantly at him. "You do not know it as I do. I too love, Marcellus. The bond of the solestra is beyond anything you can feel with your paltry human emotions. Have you ever become one in the truest sense of the word, Marcellus? Known a person absolutely, as well as you do yourself? Immersed so completely, mind and body that you don't know where you end and the other begins?"
Marcellus could not respond. He read the emotion on her face; the side of her he did not imagine existed. Her lips parted, her eyes practically glistened as she recalled the experience.
"I love Alaric with a passion you could never understand. He has been as good as dead for so long, lost in his obsession with changing the fate of our people. Only now has he returned, come to life again. What would you do for that chance, Marcellus? What would you do to have your wife and daughter back in your arms?"
"Anything." The word was but a hoarse whisper, but it seemed to hang in the air between them, suspended by the bitter winds.
Serona's gaze was resolute. "Then you know I would do no less for the one I love. I would kill your precious Nyori a thousand times over if it pleased Alaric. You should consider it fortunate he wants her alive. Think of the lives you can save if you would but push your pride aside and see with vision unclouded by emotion."
"I cannot." The words spilled out, raw in their rage. "What your people have done cannot be forgiven. I have heard your terms. Now hear mine. There will be no more attempts to capture Nyori. The akhkharu hidden in our kingdoms must remove themselves at once. Alaric Aelfvalder and all under him have until Spring to surrender themselves to my mercy. Those who do so will be spared. Those who do not will be destroyed."
Her smile was bitter. "Such a tempting offer. I told Alaric you would be too irrational to accept his generosity. But even I underestimated the audacity of your foolishness."
"Fly back to your master." Marcellus' head throbbed as though the Reaver pounded heavy fists against the walls of his mind. "I have suffered you long enough, and the Reaver yearns for your destruction. I cannot hold it back forever."
"You won't have to." Serona's scorn was colder than the snow that fell around them as she strode away. "You will experience your doom soon enough. You and all those foolish enough to join you will regret the day you spurned this offer."
She stepped into the gloom of the trees. Shadows draped her, rippling as though made liquid. When she vanished, Marcellus fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around his heaving chest. She had no idea the struggle it was to restrain the Reaver, stop it from overwhelming him and destroying her. Its presence had swelled within the entire time, seeking to wrest control away. He had been able to contain it, but not by much. He shivered, but for once it wasn't from the cold.
He didn't have much time left.
Chapter 49: Valdemar
The Dragonists at the tent entrance stood even stiffer as Valdemar emerged from his tent into the frosty night air. He shifted his eyes toward the darkness of the woods a few yards away. Almost indiscernible was a shadow among shadows, a tall shape with pale lights glowing from where the eyes should have been if the shape were a man. The whisper hissed for his ears alone.
"Our Mistress awaits."
Valdemar turned to his guards. "Come."