Page 83 of The Shrouded Queen
The king had said there was nothing about me worth loving. He was right. Loving me had gotten Jasim uselessly killed. At least his death in the temple would have meant something, a bridge to Shaya, but this… there was no meaning in this. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It wasn’ttrue, it couldn’t be.
I longed for my rage. But whatever Anwar had done had left me with nothing more than heavy, suffocating fear and crushing sorrow.
THIRTY-THREESAMIRA
After a whole day abed, the pain in my legs had entirely vanished. Which was good for me, since it took that long for Bain to poke his head into my cabin. My heart hit my feet at the sight of his sharp face.
“Rade wants to see you,” he growled.
“Where’s Keir?”
“Taking a break. Let’s go.”
I followed Bain out of the cabin, body tense.
Rade was waiting for me by the longhouse’s cedar doors, speaking to a large man with thick wrinkles roping across his forehead.
Suddenly, Bain grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop. Before I could panic, he said, “Hedin was a traitor.”
My eyebrows rose.Hedin?Of all the things I expected him to say to me, it wasn’t this. “The man Rade was going to make Second? Why would Rade choose a traitor—”
“Rade didn’t know. Still doesn’t. No one did, except the Seven. We kept it a secret. We needed time to plan the best way to punish him, to make sure the death fit the crime. The fight cut our planning short. Velka thought you deserved to know.” He rolled his eyes before his lips curled up into a nasty grin and he leaned in even closer, grip tightening until I winced. “That is what we do to traitors. Hedin’s death was quick. Most traitors don’t get that lucky. Remember that.”
My heart nearly beat out of my chest. But I thought of how I’d stood my ground against Keir, how he’d backed down, how I’d made the decision to start fighting back. I adopted that same bravado now as I tipped my chin in the air and demanded, “Let go, Bain.”
For a moment, his Shifter eyes flashed and he looked like he was going to refuse. I held his gaze for several nerve-racking moments before he slowly peeled his fingers off my arm. With more courage than I felt, I turned my back on him and strode forward, ordering my legs to carry me the last few feet to Rade.
The king turned to me with a friendly smile, oblivious to the silent war I’d just won or the nervous sweat on my forehead. “Amunet,” he greeted me. “Thank you, Bain.”
His Fourth dipped his head and ambled off. But not before shooting me one more dark look that sent my stomach into a tailspin. I might have won just now, but it didn’t mean much. A snapped neck was Bain goingeasy. If he found out who I was and what I was doing here…
“Come on,” Rade said. “There’s something I want to show you.”
I swallowed down my fear and forced myself to keep my chin high as I followed Rade out of Frostguard. We didn’t speak much along the way. I didn’t know if Rade could tell something was wrong with me or if he simply liked the silence.
Kaldfolk—Shifters, specifically—had been birthed during the Time of Night, the height of Shaya’s power, the most frightening chapter in the War of the Ancients. Half animal, half man, they’d torn through mortals like they were nothing. It wasn’t until after Shaya was locked away, his power significantly diminished, that they’d developed consciousness. That they’d become more man than beast. That didn’t mean their wild, animalistic side was gone, though. I’d seen its strength with my own two eyes when they had invaded Khada Palace. Bain could be one bad day away from snapping my neck, with or without Rade’s say-so. Or rather, torturing me andthensnapping my neck. If I was lucky. Which I never was.
“Here we are,” Rade said.
My eyes widened, and the air fled my lungs.
An enormous brass circle, large enough for a small assembly of people to stand in, was nestled into the earth, a bright emerald at its center. It almost looked like a compass, except there were far more than four directions carved into it, with those symbols I’d glimpsed during my time with the Seer. The markings curled all the way around the circle, a crisp border of black lines against the gleaming brass.
“What is this?” I asked.
“We’re not sure,” Rade replied, stepping into the ring, nodding that it was all right for me to follow. “We think it must be a remnant of the War of the Ancients. Look, do you see that?” He pointed to the emerald at the center.
I nodded, gaping. “That’s Ketet’s eye.” The emerald jewel was bracketed by thick black lines meant to resemble eyelashes, a common symbol to represent the goddess’s remaining eye. The lashes stretched up and drew together to form an arrow, which was aimed at one of the various indecipherable marks.
“So we unoriginally call this place the Eye of Ketet.” Rade smiled crookedly.
Hesitantly, I stepped over the circle’s border.
A hush fell. The hush of a sacred place. It wasn’t cold within the compass. And it wasn’t hot. It was comfortable. My panic and fear dissipated along with the chill.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Rade said, smile stretching.
“Yes.” I almost thought if I looked over my shoulder, I’d find the Seven Monarchs standing there. The circle carried the serenity I always found in prayer, calm and tranquil.
