quavered, and the guards shifted to keep him down.
“Stephen. It’s a bluff,” she said, still calm.
“Two,” Garrett said, the word short and clipped.
“May?” It was frantic with indecision.
“No, Stephen!”
“One.”
The word was as devoid of emotion as the ones before. It settled heavy upon my ears. Garrett flicked his eyes to the guards and nodded.
I stood frozen as the Misdev guard ran his knife across my mother’s neck with a silken sound. Her eyes widened. Red flowed, drenching her shoulder and side.
“Mother!” I shrieked, jerking into motion. Using nails and feet, I squirmed and twisted. I could hear my father’s shouts, and Garrett’s angry demand to hold him. The guard restraining me went to help them, and I ran to her, crumpled where the guard had dropped her.
“Mother!” I cried, falling to pull her head onto my lap. Her eyes were open, glazed.
“Tess,” she whispered, her eyes unseeing. “Don’t think—we didn’t love you.”
“Mother? Mother!” I looked down. There was so much blood between my fingers. I couldn’t stop it.
I couldn’t stop it!
The tension eased from her, and she went slack. I looked up in delirium. My father was under a pile of guards. I could hear him angrily sobbing my mother’s name over and over. Garrett stood over us.
“This can’t be real,” I whispered. “This can’t be happening.”
Garrett’s attention flicked down to me. He reached out, and before I knew what he was doing, he yanked me up from my mother. She slumped gracefully as if sleeping, her blood staining the moss between the flagstones. The white of my nightdress was crimson and warm. Garrett pushed me into the grip of one of his guards. “Her turn,” he said softly.
“May,” my father wept as the men pulled him to his feet. “May. You took my May.”
Garrett strode forward and slapped my father smartly across the face. “And I’ll take your gutter trull next if you don’t tell me where the Red Moon Princess is.”
A guard held me. Terrified, I looked at my father. His grief shone from him, beaten and overpowered.
He slumped as the hands holding me tightened. “No,” I whispered plaintively, too shocked to do more.
My mother was dead. She had been alive, and now she was dead. The grief and loss in my father’s eyes when he raised them to mine was like a blow to my middle. I struggled to find enough air.
I tried not to, but I cried out when the guard holding me put the knife, still red from my mother’s throat, against mine. He stank of sweat and fear, and the knife trembled against me.
Garrett’s smile broadened as my father hung unresisting. “She’s at the nunnery on Bird Island,” my father said, his voice cracking. “Damn you to hell. She’s in the mountains on a peak called Bird Island.
Leave Tess alone. Please… don’t hurt my daughter.”
Garrett leaned close, smug and confident. “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” my father shouted, beaten. “Yes. She’s there. I swear it. Oh God, you took my May. She’s gone.” His head bowed to hide his eyes, and he slumped.
Garrett made a satisfied noise and motioned the guard to take the knife from me.
I took a shuddering gasp of air. My father pulled his eyes up. They met mine from under his mussed hair falling about his face. My only warning was the tightening of his jaw.
Crying in rage, my father struck at the guards. I broke free of the grip on me at my father’s triumphant shout as he took another’s sword and drove it deep into its previous owner.
“Run, Tess!” he shouted, magnificent as he fought the Misdev guards in his nightclothes. The softness I’d always seen was gone. He swung and parried, swirled and danced in a pattern of movement and sound given purpose and grace by the grief in his heart. His shouts were thundering vengeance, his blows carried the might of desperation of a loss never to be paid. He stood over his fallen love and fought as if mad, thinking only to assuage the pain
“Stephen. It’s a bluff,” she said, still calm.
“Two,” Garrett said, the word short and clipped.
“May?” It was frantic with indecision.
“No, Stephen!”
“One.”
The word was as devoid of emotion as the ones before. It settled heavy upon my ears. Garrett flicked his eyes to the guards and nodded.
I stood frozen as the Misdev guard ran his knife across my mother’s neck with a silken sound. Her eyes widened. Red flowed, drenching her shoulder and side.
“Mother!” I shrieked, jerking into motion. Using nails and feet, I squirmed and twisted. I could hear my father’s shouts, and Garrett’s angry demand to hold him. The guard restraining me went to help them, and I ran to her, crumpled where the guard had dropped her.
“Mother!” I cried, falling to pull her head onto my lap. Her eyes were open, glazed.
“Tess,” she whispered, her eyes unseeing. “Don’t think—we didn’t love you.”
“Mother? Mother!” I looked down. There was so much blood between my fingers. I couldn’t stop it.
I couldn’t stop it!
The tension eased from her, and she went slack. I looked up in delirium. My father was under a pile of guards. I could hear him angrily sobbing my mother’s name over and over. Garrett stood over us.
“This can’t be real,” I whispered. “This can’t be happening.”
Garrett’s attention flicked down to me. He reached out, and before I knew what he was doing, he yanked me up from my mother. She slumped gracefully as if sleeping, her blood staining the moss between the flagstones. The white of my nightdress was crimson and warm. Garrett pushed me into the grip of one of his guards. “Her turn,” he said softly.
“May,” my father wept as the men pulled him to his feet. “May. You took my May.”
Garrett strode forward and slapped my father smartly across the face. “And I’ll take your gutter trull next if you don’t tell me where the Red Moon Princess is.”
A guard held me. Terrified, I looked at my father. His grief shone from him, beaten and overpowered.
He slumped as the hands holding me tightened. “No,” I whispered plaintively, too shocked to do more.
My mother was dead. She had been alive, and now she was dead. The grief and loss in my father’s eyes when he raised them to mine was like a blow to my middle. I struggled to find enough air.
I tried not to, but I cried out when the guard holding me put the knife, still red from my mother’s throat, against mine. He stank of sweat and fear, and the knife trembled against me.
Garrett’s smile broadened as my father hung unresisting. “She’s at the nunnery on Bird Island,” my father said, his voice cracking. “Damn you to hell. She’s in the mountains on a peak called Bird Island.
Leave Tess alone. Please… don’t hurt my daughter.”
Garrett leaned close, smug and confident. “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” my father shouted, beaten. “Yes. She’s there. I swear it. Oh God, you took my May. She’s gone.” His head bowed to hide his eyes, and he slumped.
Garrett made a satisfied noise and motioned the guard to take the knife from me.
I took a shuddering gasp of air. My father pulled his eyes up. They met mine from under his mussed hair falling about his face. My only warning was the tightening of his jaw.
Crying in rage, my father struck at the guards. I broke free of the grip on me at my father’s triumphant shout as he took another’s sword and drove it deep into its previous owner.
“Run, Tess!” he shouted, magnificent as he fought the Misdev guards in his nightclothes. The softness I’d always seen was gone. He swung and parried, swirled and danced in a pattern of movement and sound given purpose and grace by the grief in his heart. His shouts were thundering vengeance, his blows carried the might of desperation of a loss never to be paid. He stood over his fallen love and fought as if mad, thinking only to assuage the pain
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