Behind the shadow of quiet sorrow, she could see love in his eyes.

“Yes. With all my heart and soul. Who I was, who I will be, is in your hands.”

“Tonight, Magda Searus, you are reborn a Confessor.” A tear ran down his cheek. “If I fail, may the good spirits take me, for I would not want to live in a world without you.”

She blinked in surprise at his words.

Glowing white light and inky black darkness rolled up the length of the blade in dizzying, undulating waves.

“Now you must trust me,” he said with finality.

Magda wet the roof of her mouth with her tongue. “I do, Merritt. I trust you with my life.”

And then, as he held her shoulders back against the tree, he pushed the sword straight through her heart.

Thunder without sound silently shook the world around her.

Oak leaves and pine needles rained down in the forest all around as dust rose in a rapidly expanding ring spreading away into the night.

Magda’s eyes went wide in shock at what he had just done.

She let out a last scream as she died.

Chapter 89

People had gathered in great numbers. They crowded around the towering, polished black marble columns to each side of the gallery leading toward the council chambers and gathered beside the statues of robed figures, leaning around the people in front of them, rising up on tiptoes, all trying to see.

The soft rumble of their collective voices echoed from the vaulted ceiling hung with a procession of long, red silk banners meant to represent the blood that had been shed in defense of the people of the Midlands. The carpet, with the names of battles woven along the edges, was also red, meant to be a reminder of the struggles fought and the lives laid down so that others might live.

This day was no less a battle for the survival of the Midlands, a battle for the survival of all innocent lives in peril. Before the day was done, there was a good chance that more blood would be shed in that seemingly endless battle for survival.

Magda wore a blank expression, showing no emotion as she strode in a measured pace past the gathered throngs.

The drone of voices and light laughter withered to whispers before falling silent as she passed, leaving a hush in her wake.

People gawked as she marched past them, stone-faced, her eyes fixed ahead, looking neither left nor right. None of the people staring could have imagined the charge of power seething somewhere deep inside her.