She did not answer it, but she did say, "Here is something we haven't told you. It's not just the Auldek who cannot bear young. The same is true of the People. We live and die, but we do not continue ourselves. That's another curse you Akarans arranged for us."
Mor's eyes cut toward Skylene, but then snapped back. "You've learned enough for just now. I have a task for you. Accomplish it, and we will hold nothing back from you."
Dariel was still facing the enormity of the revelation Mor had just made. It explained so much, and seemed awful in a way that he could not take in all at once. He wanted to. It felt important to do so, but Mor had asked him a question. She likely thought he was hesitating because he was considering the answer. In truth, he did not need to consider it at all. He had been waiting, listening, hiding long enough.
Dariel said, "Tell me."
C HAPTER
Corinn had never run so fast in her life. She had never felt more frustrated and frantic, filled with an awful urgency that made her want to burst out of her skin and fly. She held the skirt of her gown in both hands, pulled high so that her legs were free to move. Marah crowded her on all sides. They would have preferred to have held still in a defensive circle around her, a human wall with halberds and swords jutting out like the spines of a porcupine. It took all the queen's effort to keep them in motion. She propelled them against their will by shoving them forward and spewing curses and threats at them. Aaden was in danger. Aaden might be dead.
She had stepped out of the secret room into an office strewn with bodies, blood, and organs-both human and Numrek. Though Sire Dagon begged her not to go, she strode away. She had to find Aaden. Hopeful one second; near tears the next; boiling with white-hot anger just after, when interrupted by scenes of violence, people confused, stunned, getting in her way. She hated when they got in her way! Standing about stupid-faced, gaping. Nobles or peasants, old or young: it did not matter. They worked their jaws in meaningless chatter. She had never hated them more. Several times she roared at them, and each time they peeled away before her, like sheep before a wolf, terrified. If they prevented her from reaching Aaden in time, she would kill them.
Coming off a ramp and up a short flight of steps, she trod on the hem of her gown and fell against the men in front of her. Arms pulled her back up. Hands touched her with an intimacy that would have doomed the owner of them an hour ago. One guard whispered respectfully that perhaps they should turn back, get her to safety in the upper palace. His voice trembled and she recognized him as one of her Marah, alive after the battle with her Numrek guards in her offices. "We'll keep you safe there, Your Majesty, until-"
In answer she reached for his waist and pulled free the slim dagger sheathed there. "Are you a coward?" she asked. Judging by the way the man's face froze, he must have thought she was about to slit his throat. She let him think so for a second, and then sawed at the skirts of her gown. The razor-sharp blade ribboned the light layers of fabric. She tore it all free by the fistful. She moved so viciously that she cut the flesh of her thigh. She did not notice until a few seconds afterward, when the warmth of her blood filled the gash and overflowed.
By the time she reached the tunnel that led into the Carmelia, dashed through it, and came out in the open air midway up the stadium's ranks, she was as sweaty, bloodstained, and panting as if she had been at the butchery of battle herself. She froze as the view rose up before her, her eyes searching for her son even as she saw Mena and Melio and clusters of Marah soldiers, all fighting a few Numrek. There were many dead Marah already, and three of the Numrek lay as broken corpses on the field. The remaining three were bellowing whirlwinds. Their curved swords scorched the air around them, long hair flying as they wrenched their heads around from one foe to another.
Where was Aaden? She didn't see Aaden. He had to be here. He had to be-and then she spotted a child's small form lying facedown on the grass. Her breath left her in one long ahhh. He was so tiny. Like a doll.
Oh, Aaden.
As she said his name in her head she knew it was not right. The name did not fit the body. It was not Aaden. The figure was a little longer of limb than Aaden. Dark haired while Aaden was fair. It was Devlyn.
She shouted, "Find the prince! Find him, now!" The command came from something tapped into the urgency of life, something far greater than she.
As the guards dashed down the stairs and ran to either side, calling for the prince, searching for him among the rows of seats, Corinn turned her gaze to the ongoing battle. Her sister was there, tiny beside the Numrek she faced-Greduc, who had so often walked behind her. Greduc, who had once held his arm out, Aaden dangling from it, standing as tall and still as a tree, grinning as the boy's legs kicked in the air. Corinn pressed her palm to her chest, realizing she was frightened now from all the moments Greduc had had her and Aaden in his power. At any time he could have killed them both.
I am a fool! she thought.
Two Marah worked with Mena, making a triangle around Greduc, but he always turned to keep the princess before him. Mena held a curved Numrek sword in a two-handed grip. Mena never knew her limits, Corinn thought, and then was appalled. What a vile thought, tainted as it was by an adolescent desire to see her sister punished for the arrogance. She had to get control of her thoughts. Defeat him, Mena. Kill him, my sister! Make him die and die and die!
Mena yelled something at Greduc that Corinn could not hear. The Numrek responded, and whatever he said caused Mena to hesitate. Her sword drooped slightly. One of her hands rose, sketching her confusion with a motion of her upturned palm. The Numrek jerked his chin upward and spat. That ended the intermission.
The attackers drew closer to the Numrek, who roared into motion, battling the Marah but always driving toward Mena. She somehow managed to parry, duck, slip to the side. She stumbled then righted herself and swung the heavy blade around, nearly taking off Greduc's head-except that he managed to block and, stepping back, twirled into a surprise attack that caught the Marah behind him and took his arm off at the shoulder.
Corinn pitched forward and vomited. Strong hands grasped her, steadying her. What was wrong with her? Her mind was so scattered, cluttered, random. Aaden! Where was Aaden? She scanned the bleachers. Her guards were racing through them, bending to check under seats, dashing along other rows. They were looking, but she knew that if he was in the stadium she would feel him. Perhaps Mena had hidden him. Yes, that was it. Hidden him someplace safe. Corinn stepped forward, thinking she would descend toward the chaos and-
"No, Your Majesty," a voice behind her said.
Delivegu strode the last few steps to reach her, behind him several more Marah, all of whom rushed past her to join the fight. Rhrenna followed them as well, carrying her dagger. "You shouldn't even be this close," Delivegu said. "If one of them sees you, he may charge. Come. Draw back with me so that you can't be seen."
"I cannot find Aaden," Corinn said. "He was here."
Delivegu set his hand on her shoulder and scanned the stadium, his face grave. He looked at Corinn, took her other shoulder in hand. "We'll find him. He's not here."
Exactly, she thought. He's not here! Now that seemed a good thing. Aaden was somewhere else, which had to be better than being here.
"He's probably safe."
Exactly, Corinn echoed. He's probably safe.
Rhrenna stood beside her now. "The palace is secure," she said. "Balneaves Sharratt is checking the records to determine how many Numrek were on the island. There's fighting still in the lower town, as some of them were trying to flee the island. They won't get off. And General Andeson is already committed to sail for the Teh Coast, to blockade the-"