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she shouted, disentangling herself and trying to get the heavy oars into their locks.

But the water was reversing, the boat picking up speed as the waves flung themselves toward the cliffs.

“Madoria, you might give us some assistance, you waterlogged sea hag!” Dareena screamed, wrenching an oar from Lydia’s grip and shoving it into a lock.

Lydia got the other one in, but it was too late. They were too close, the waves too strong. She braced herself for the impact.

Then the water abruptly fell still, the waves flattening, foam floating on the glassy surface. The boat slid forward on its own momentum, striking the rocks, but the thick wood held strong.

“Ha ha!” Dareena crowed, flipping her middle finger at the watching blighters. Then she grasped the oars and leaned into them, rowing the boat out to sea.

“What happened?” Lydia demanded, staring at the still water. “How is this possible?”

“The ship that’s waiting for us,” the High Lady said, breathing hard, “is not Mudamorian. It’s Maarin. And one of Madoria’s marked is aboard.”

 49KILLIAN

It was a wild gallop back through the mountains, but Killian was only half-aware of the Anuk pursuing him, his mind all for Lydia. She was in danger, he knew it.

And thanks to Ria’s meddling, he was on the wrong side of the kingdom to help Lydia.

Please keep her safe, he prayed to the Six. I don’t care what you do to me, just don’t let her be harmed.

It was only as he, Sonia, and Finn galloped out the eastern end of the canyon that the pool of dread in his guts abated. Yet as it did, the void it left behind filled with a new fear. What if his mark wasn’t telling him Lydia was safe. What if her life was no longer in danger because she’d lost it?

What if she’s dead?

“Ride hard to camp!” he shouted at Sonia. “Tell them to ready for an imminent attack from the Anuk and tell them why it’s coming.”

“Where are you going?”

“To Rotahn.” Digging his heels into Seahawk’s sides, he drove the exhausted horse in the direction of the Rowenes stronghold.

“Ria!”

Servants leapt out of his way as he stormed through the palace, hunting for the lady of House Rowenes.

And answers.

“Where is she?” he demanded, catching hold of the arm of one of the Rowenes guards. “Where is Ria?”

“A-abed, my lord,” the man stuttered.

“Take me to her.”

“But—”

“Now!” He shouted the word in the man’s face, not caring that the guard wasn’t the source of his wrath. It was because of Ria that he wasn’t in Mudaire. Which meant anything that had happened to Lydia would be on her hands.

The guard led him through the palace, stopping beside a door. “Her chambers, my lord,” he blurted out, then bolted.

Killian twisted the handle, finding it locked. But rather than demanding she open the door, he stepped back a few paces and then threw his weight against it. Wood splintered, and it exploded inward, slamming against the wall as a scream of surprise filled the air.

As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, they latched on Ria sitting upright in her bed, silken bedsheets clutched to her chest.

“What is the meaning of this?” she shrieked at him.

He was across the room in four strides, his finger leveled at her. “Do you have any idea of what you’ve done?”

“Nothing that deserves such abuse from you, my lord,” she retorted. “So I’d ask that you remove yourself from my chambers and work on formulating an apology.”

“You deserve this and worse, Ria!” His vision was tinged with red. “You lied to me. Told me that the Anuk were taking advantage of the war with Derin to attack Rowenes lands, but that wasn’t it at all. You provoked them by sending your men to attack their villages in my name. To slaughter children in my name!” He screamed the words, because the alternative was to tear the room apart.

She stared silently at him, then lifted a shoulder. “We’ve always raided one another. It is nothing new or of note.”

“Of note?” He stared at her, feeling a tremor run through him. “You’ve started a gods-damned war when Mudamora can least afford it, Ria. People are going to die because of your actions.”

“I’ve started a war?” One of her eyebrows rose. “More like you’ve started a war, Killian. Everyone knows that you’ve met the Anuk raiders with unprecedented violence. That you’ve shown them none of the mercy my men cautioned you to use.”

“Because I thought—”

She interrupted her with a sharp laugh. “Protest all you like. As far as anyone knows, the only element in Mudamora’s relationship with Anukastre that has changed is you.”

“Bullshit. And when the King hears that you risked his gold and his people…” He trailed off, watching the smile rise to her lips. “He’s behind this.”

Ria clapped her hands together. “Very good. He sent instructions ahead that I was to do whatever it took to keep you in Rotahn. And that if I could discredit you in some capacity, so much the better.”

“Why?” Killian felt sick to his stomach.

“Isn’t it obvious? You sided with Malahi against him. Made him look the fool at Alder’s Ford. And he already hated you. Hated all of your kind.”

“My kind?”

“The Marked.” Rising, she drew on a dressing gown. “My uncle is a man who craves power and control, and if you think that he doesn’t resent the Marked for being raised above him by the Six, then you are truly an idiot. Why do you think he’s worked so tirelessly to reduce you all to little more than slaves to the kingdom?”

Belting the gown with steady fingers, she added, “Most of the Marked submitted, but not you. Except with your victory over Rufina’s armies at the Ford, he knew he’d lose the favor of the people if he executed you for your treason. Better to wait until you fell from grace. Again. As to why I agreed to help him, well…” She shrugged. “With Malahi dead, my uncle is in need of an

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