The Broken Pieces(20)
“Why the veil?” he asked her on an impulse.
Valessa lowered her eyes to the ground.
“I’d rather no one look upon my face.”
Darius lifted an eyebrow.
“You’re a woman of a thousand faces. If you don’t want someone looking upon yours, then why not take the guise of another?”
She shook her head.
“You’re such a fool sometimes, Darius. I have no desire to be anyone else. I want to be myself. I want to be whoever I was when you killed me.”
“The way I remember it, you flung yourself upon my blade.”
“And who put the blade against my neck?” she countered.
The memory was still vivid, and Darius felt ashamed of it. He’d been ready to butcher Valessa, all because he’d seen her as a threat. Jerico had been furious at him for it, and rightly so.
“Fair enough,” he said. “I won’t ask any more about the veil.”
They sat quietly for a moment. Sighing, Valessa waved a hand over her face, banishing the veil. Her skin was pale, her eyes a vibrant blue, like gems dug from the deepest caves of Dezrel. She might have the ability to resemble anyone, but she wore her true face, and she was beautiful.
“Lilah can still kill me,” she said. If she was bothered by his staring, she did not show it. “I put my life in your hands. Don’t let me down. I cannot enter the Abyss as I am.”
“Easy enough solution,” Darius said. “Don’t go to the Abyss.”
She smirked at him.
“You would have me be a coward and a traitor, like you? Because I cannot live up to Karak’s standards, you’d have me abandon them completely for a god with none whatsoever?”
Darius shrugged.
“Just an idea.”
They both went silent as Brute joined them, a half-full mug of alcohol in hand.
“You two ready for the fun?” he asked, settling down in the grass.
“Not as ready as you are, apparently,” Darius said, grinning.
“Well that’s what this is for,” Brute said, handing the mug over as the nearby camp stirred with commotion. “Drink it up, but save me that cup. It’s my favorite. We’re marching out, so get your sword, and, milady, get your…well, whatever is you’ll be killing people with.”
The older man gave them a salute, then left to join the rest. Darius stared at the mug with a frown.
“What?” Valessa asked.
“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to drink this anymore. I’d need to ask Jerico.”
Valessa stood, and her blue eyes flared with something dangerous.
“I’d give everything in the world to taste that horrible shit burning down my throat,” she told him. “Drink it, now, or I’ll have you leave here without a tongue to taste anything again.”
“Well then,” Darius said. “Bottoms up.”
That crucial matter taken care of, they moved to the front of the army, crossing the two miles toward the Blood Tower under the cover of night. When they were several hundred yards out, just beyond any hint of light from the numerous torches, Daniel called for them to stop, then summoned Darius and Valessa.
“Now is the time,” Daniel said, addressing only Darius and not Valessa. “Are you sure she can open the gates for us?”
“I’m sure she can,” Valessa said, glaring. “So long as the lioness doesn’t eat me first.”
“A hundred and fifty men will weep for your passing,” Daniel said as Valessa ran toward the tower. “If it’s before the gates open,” he added.
Darius drew his sword, its light shining across the water of the river flowing beside them.
“What will it take for you to trust her?” he asked.
“What will it take?” Daniel pointed to the tower. “Let’s have that in my control. That’d be a start.”
“So be it then,” Darius said. He waited until the shadow in the distance that was Valessa reached the walls of the castle, then counted another minute before lifting his blade high, letting all there see its light. “To the gates,” he cried. “To the tower. Some pussycat thinks it’s hers, and it’s time we take it back!”
7
Valessa ran without weapons toward the outer wall of the Blood Tower. For a moment she’d thought to bring her dagger when they left Willshire. Darius had locked it away in his tent, telling her it was for her own good. Truth be told, she didn’t want it. The thing glowed with a red power that strangely made her uncomfortable now. The thought of Karak’s presence shouldn’t do this to her, she knew. Her failure was growing, her betrayal all the more terrible. And now she fought at the side of a paladin of Ashhur.