Constantine (Daughter of War #1)

Chapter 26: Trust Issues

Has the scholar gone mad? Then I check myself—from the determinedly-set jaw, to the mask of strength over endless grief in the eyes, she isn't lying, and is trying to convince me so.

"Diomedes," I expel the word quietly, almost as though it's some sort of sacred name, to be spoken of with utmost reverence and solemnity. "And how exactly, did this curse come by?"

The Quinnian takes in a shuddering breath; she closes her eyes, hiding whatever surge of emotions currently overtaking her being. She starts to grow restless—her hands clasp and unclasp themselves, and she gets up to pace about the room like a caged beast. I observe all this with a relaxed vigilance, carefully noting her every movement. I'm still wary of what happened earlier, wanting to make sure that a lack of control over emotions isn't a trigger for the curse.

"He killed my family." Her words come out abruptly, a lightning bolt cracking through the sky. "I don't know why, but he killed my family."

"How?" When the word spills out of my mouth, I question if I'm being too straightforward with my questions. I allow some of the sternness in my face to melt away as compensation.

"I am of mixed ethnicity—my father was Ravürkian, my mother was Perinian. Since Ravürk and Perinus have an extensive history of being constantly at war with each other, my parents were rejected by society." Her lips curve upwards with a certain fondness that could only be produced when reminiscing past events. Despite the side-track in the main topic, I listen patiently. "We lived near the borders between the two countries, where many others like us reside. It was a simple, but peaceful and idyllic life. I only ever saw Gilbert once before, when I was teenager taken to see the towns and cities in Perinus as exposure to the world."

She pauses for a bit, swallowing her nervousness. "It was in the middle of the night," she says softly. "The attack came swift and sudden—ghosts attacked our village. There were no more than three of them, yet they managed to kill everyone. Everyone. All fifty or so villagers." Sobs start to choke her voice, heaving her shoulders with controlled violence. She blinks her eyes rapidly, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

"Except for you," I interject gently. "Why?"

She shrugs, barely managing a brave smile. "I was left alive simply because I was the last one standing. Once the ghosts were done with my village, they came to me while I was cowering in a corner. Then in unison, they—they said..." Allura trails off, focusing on the scenery beyond the window, searching for some solace in the calmness. "'Let this be known as the return of the Master of the Dead. Go, take your life, spread the news, for he has risen from the realm of the spirits, and is finally ready to finish what he had never been able to before.'"

The scholar's voice is unwavering, so sure of her version of the truth. However, doubt creases my brows together. "How are you sure that it was Diomedes?"

The scholar's eyes snap towards me, burning with the fury of Honus the dragon. Perhaps I shouldn't have been that straightforward. "You weren't there, Constantine," she says coldly. "If you ever heard that voice"—a non-existent chill makes her shudder—"you'd have no doubt that it was the Master of the Dead. At all."

'Ah' is all I can manage without offending the Quinnian anymore. A new question takes shape in my mind. I say it slowly, lest it comes out as intrusive. "And how did you get that...mark?"

"This?" Allura unfolds the sleeves once more, exposing the mark in its full hideousness. The darkness does little to hide the fact that something monstrous has manifested itself beneath the scholar's skin—the shadows cast over it enhance the gruesomeness. "It was a little 'gift' from those three ghosts. They said that it was a reminder of their everlasting presence, that they'll always be watching over me, no matter how far I try to run."