"Mara, the Lady Sera is here."

I come awake with a start. My sleep is easily disrupted lately. Every so often there is some sort of noise as the First House tests the defenses of War and the Recondites. I have been sleeping fitfully. The gnawing hunger in my belly doesn't help. My concentration is wavering. It's become hard to focus on anything more than cuddling Poppy and sleeping.

Belen is standing in front of me, looking haggard.

"Belen? How did you find us?" I ask, stupidly.

He cracks an exhausted grin. "You're Nateos' daughter, Mara. You decided to hide in a mausoleum." His smile fades, "it's a good hiding spot, this place. Secure." A shadow dances across his face.

I look away from his bright green cat-eyes. He misses Thelios, too. My stomach rumbles. I prick my own tongue with the tiny fangs that spring out at even the thought of my male.

"Have you heard anything from him, Belen?" I ask softly.

I look back at him just in time to see his forehead pinch together in a glower. "Lady Sera said she has news. She wants to talk to us, just you and me."

I carefully stand on sore legs with Belen's help, making sure that Poppy is tucked under the blankets securely with Tafia. I kiss my daughter's soft cheek, blinking back tears. She has shadows under her eyes. I can see them even when she's asleep.

I follow Belen, making sure to nudge Alnue awake as we leave so that he knows to follow us. Momo wakes up, too, and the two gargoyles stick close to us as we leave the mausoleum.

Sera is juggling a baby, the tiny thing fussing, a warning that a cry is imminent. Standing next to her is a female wearing a saffron sash. I have a feeling that it isn't a disguise. This female is a prostitute. The unknown female is glaring at the Fourth House female, a moue of disgust twisting her features.

"Esa, why don't you slip back to bed, love?" Belen says to the prostitute softly.

I smile. He loves her. Then my smile falls. Love, that bitch.

Esa says nothing in response, but the sideways look she tosses Belen's way speaks volumes.

"Sera," I say coolly. Both females turn to me. Esa's eyes widen on me, while Sera has a hard time meeting my gaze.

"You're her," Esa whispers.

"I told you I knew her. Saved her life, too," Belen brags jokingly, trying to break the tension. Esa smacks him gently with the back of her hand without ever taking her eyes from me.

"Hello, Lady Grief, I'm Esa," she bows her head slightly.

"Hello Esa, it's nice to meet you," I say. I'm tired. Too tired for polite pleasantries in the middle of a war, but Esa is important to Belen so I make the effort.

"I know you have so many things to do," Esa begins to say. I smile weakly. I have sleep to do, actually. "But, I wanted to thank you for the gold. It is helping... you have no idea how much it is helping."

Her thanks startles me out of my starving, exhausted fog. Belen gave her some of the money? I look at him and he explains, "some of the females Esa... ah... knows... can buy out their debt."

I feel a genuine smile cross my face. "That's good," I say.

"We can be free from the Houses, with that money. We may be some of the only Acera left," Esa muses sadly. "A bunch of whores and orphans." She slides a knowing glance at the baby in Sera's arms.

"Whose baby is that, Sera?" I ask the quiet female.

"My cousin's," she says abruptly.

I take a step back from her. She can't mean... Anthea, can she?

Sera sees my expression and lets out a sarcastic laugh, "yes, Anthea decided that this baby was nothing to her. An inconvenience." Sera juggles the baby a little faster. "Because, Thelios is there... or Thane... or some male. He doesn't know you, Mara. Whatever happened, or whoever he was, he doesn't remember you. He doesn't seem to know that you exist."

She takes a deep breath as I stand there, stock still. "I'm sorry. I didn't know... She begged me, Mara. She told me that she just wanted to talk to her husband, to tell him about his children. For weeks she begged and begged and finally I told her to stop because he was marrying you. She planned everything. She knew you would be there that day."

Sera lets out a sob. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, down both of our cheeks. "I was there, visiting my mama, when the soldiers went to war. I was stuck at the First House when mama decided we needed to show our support," she spits, "for my cousin. I had to pretend to be happy for her while she looked your male in the eyes and told him that he was Thane and then..." Sera inhales, "she showed him the children. He knew she wasn't his... or Thane's... or whoever." Sera kisses the baby's downy head. "She told me... Mara... she told me to get rid of the baby. She wouldn't let her daughter be a reminder to her husband of her infidelity."

I rub my hand over my heart. The baby... Anthea's daughter... is crying now, her legs drawing up to her chest and kicking out.

"I left the House because I had to dispose of the baby. I came here as soon as I could escape. Where's Tafia? Is she with you?"

I shake my head. "Tafia was in the cemetery for days, Sera," I tell her woodenly, still trying to wrap my head around everything she just shared with me. "She was starving and so cold. I bathed her in the pool," I murmur. "She wants to be a warrior."

"Why don't we find some food and warm tea?" Esa takes me gently by the shoulders with one arm and links her other arm through Sera's. "Then we can talk, slowly. And... maybe feed the baby?"

Sera looks down at the little female wailing in her arms. "She's so hungry. Anthea wanted me to kill her daughter. I couldn't do it, Mara," she tells me as Belen and Esa take us into the barracks.

I shiver in apprehension. My father wants me to fight for Thelios and I will, but this foe is truly evil. To kill your own child to hide your duplicity... what foul influence is Anthea under?

---

"Who is guarding their gates?" I ask.

My brother's wife, I finally learned her name is Anthea, comes to stand next to me on the balcony that overlooks the entire city below. My eyes remain fixed on the warriors wearing silver and blue far below, at the black iron gates of War. Figures move, faster than most eyes can see, darting along walls of solid stone thicker than most males are tall.

"Recondites," my little brother, Nisjahn, spits with derision. "Faithless mongrels. Most of them are half-bred mistakes."

I try to hide my smirk. I am a half-bred mistake. Well, without my wings you can't tell that I am not a purebred Tasuri, like my brother Thane.

My back twinges. Sometimes I forget that they aren't there; forget that if I launch myself off of this balcony then I'll plummet like a stone to the gardens below.

"Recondites?" I ask, bemused. I've never heard of them. Warriors named for obscurity must be fascinating.

"They are supposed to serve all the gods, but are entranced with Death's little whore," he says.

Anthea hushes him.

They think I can't see the intimacy between them. They must think that I'm an idiot. Maybe Thane is, but I can see how they deliberately won't look at each other, how careful they are to avoid touching.

I don't care if Anthea and Nisjahn fuck themselves silly, I'm much more interested in Nateos' "little whore."

"Nateos has a female priestess?" I ask.

"Yes," Nisjahn says with great reluctance. There is more to the story. I can hear the omission in his voice, see it in his stature. Dumb little male.

I let my fangs show when I smile in anticipatory glee. Pitting myself against Nateos and these Recondites sounds fun, but a priestess of death? Now, that is something unheard of even in the pits of the Underworld. How utterly intriguing. How is it possible that Natoes gained a daughter and I knew nothing about it?

I turn my attention back to the battles below. For now, we are testing the defenses of these Recondites. But soon... soon I will be well enough to break free from my gilded cage and join the warriors. I laugh out loud, startling Anthea and Nisjahn. A fight to the death... against Death.

---

"The villages, far south along the river, where the mother's Acera fled to," Belen says to us, quietly. "There's been some talk about leaving-"

"They are all Acera villages," Sera says in a hushed whisper. Tears prick her eyes. "Shifters aren't welcome. Only the mother's Acera went."

I pick at the cloth on the table. Isn't that ironic? Shifters aren't welcome in the fertile valley to the southeast, but the Acera aren't welcome here... not anymore, at least.

"They're not the same," Belen says. "Those Acera, they are pureblood Acera, not a shifter among them." His gaze shifts to me, "it's why Acera used to be welcomed here. The ones born to shifters are family. Who are those villagers in the south? My nan says that they are different, not welcoming to anyone new."

"The bodies... they all flowed to the south," I say softly. It disrupts the argument before it can start. "The signs of war may have already reached those villages. We have poisoned the lifeblood of the land itself."

Belen nods. "Most in War want to fight. They want to stay. I think everyone believes that this conflict will end and everything will go back to being the same."

He stands and walks over to the clay urn in the corner, skimming cool water from the top and bringing it back to the table. "We are ready... as ready as we can be."

"If Thelios can't remember me," I say, "then... will he fight on their side?" I look at Sera.

"I think so," she whispers.

Belen rubs his jaw and wraps an arm around Esa. "We need to consider evacuating the city. Go somewhere else and allow the Tasuri purebloods to have their empty city."

"They will follow us, eventually," Esa says softly. "Their arrogance will push them to conquer us, wherever we go."

"We need something more," I say softly.

Go to the Forgotten daughter

"The Forgotten tombs?" I say out loud, a little astonished.

"The desert?" Belen asks, even more shocked than I am. "What is in the desert?"

"I-I don't-"

The baby starts to fuss, moving on Sera's shoulder. She frowns, then pulls out a small piece of parchment from her bodice. "I nearly forgot this, Mara." She hands me the paper.

I start to open it, curious.

"Anthea kept this close to her. I stole it before she- before everything."

I unfold it to read the words on the page. It is written in a masculine hand, one I vaguely recognize. I think, perhaps, this is Thane's writing. It's just a bunch of jumbled sentences with little continuity. I can only speculate on what it means.

A pure soul taken. Her spirit can not rest

Through her pain a new life comes.

What shall the father give to his child? Pure soul for pure soul.

Your will be the price to end the curse

Your lifesblood will cleanse the curse and restore what was taken from the First House.

I trace the words with my fingertips, mulling over them. Their meaning escapes me, but it must be important if Anthea held onto it. If Thane wrote them, then what is all of this?

Why are there two different ways to end 'the curse?' Your will, then your lifesblood.

"May I see?" Belen holds out his hand. I give him the parchment and he reads it quietly.

"Do you think it's about you and Thelios?" he asks me.

I shrug. "I'm not sure. I think Thane wrote it down. So maybe it's about him?"

I re-fold the paper. I am sick of prophecies and cryptic messages.

Go to the Forgotten

Open the tomb of the worst betrayer

I sigh softly, "speaking of cryptic messages..."

Arim the First's tomb

Daughter

"I knew that," I mumble, feeling chastened, ignoring the looks cast my way by the other's at the table.

The Forgotten tombs... I stand up. "Excuse me. I have to study."

---

I hold my breath. This is stupid. Every part of my being knows that this is a terrible, awful idea.

Months ago when Thane opened the Forgotten tomb, no less than eight strong, stalwart male warriors died. This tomb is Arim of the First, and his soul, his undead spirit, will be so much stronger.

God of Death or not, my father had a terrible, awful idea.

I can feel him rolling his eyes at me. And I thought I was the child.

What makes this so much worse is that we are here, alone.

It is just us; Postites Antin, Farso, and Santos, Patriarch Salbin, who was called away from the temple for this, and me. No Recondites to battle for us. Belen and the others are too busy with defending War and the shifters within the district. A few of them helped us escape the city on wings, then returned to the endless battle. I'm still not sure how we will return to the city. If we survive this.

Momo sneezes. Oh, yes, and the gargoyles are here. Not that they are much help. Alnue and Harku are armed with vials of sacred pool water, but Mishu and Mushu have brought rocks. And Momo, I sigh internally, Momo has a sock... without rocks, I checked. It smells horrifying, but I assume a rotting corpse is worse, so I'm not sure what good it will do.

Tafia and Sera are with Poppy and the baby. Postite Banio is with them. They came as far as one of the watchtowers at the entrance to the valley. I can't risk any of their souls in this place of damned souls. They are all innocent and this is no place for anyone but us. Only the undead and the god's servants belong in the sands of the immortal dead.

Nothing and no one to protect us but our faith in my father and the flask of my own blood that I am clenching so tightly my knuckles are turning white.

Sera gave me the clue. A pure soul. Thelios, my heart clenches in the now-familiar pain, told me that I was a pure soul. Another scroll that Alnue rescued from the temple library said that the damned were afraid of pure blood. I really hope that's true.

We approach the tomb of Arim of the First with wariness in our steps. The sand, meticulously combed away from the door after the tomb was sealed, has been blown back by the wind. "Fortuitous," Patriarch Salbin mutters. Or not.

Alnue spits, ears perked and alert. Harku is quivering with fear, but bravely standing next to me.

Even with the easy access to the door, it must take hours to get it open, typically. What Thane and his warriors didn't know is that the acid in my father's sacred pool melts away the mortar holding the door slab in place.

Postites Farso and Santos are careful as they pour the liquid over the seams. They are wearing thick leather gloves, and I can see smoke rising from the small droplets of pool water that hit the material.

"Careful," Patriarch Salbin warns them. The door shifts, ready to be moved, creaking in place.

Momo creeps in next to me, nudging Harku aside. His sock is held at the ready.

I wish I could dredge up some laughter at their antics, but I'm so hungry. I suck my lips into my mouth to keep the whimper of fear inside. I want my Thelios back. I need him back. Hunger strikes, deep and thick, making my tongue swell and my fangs ache. I am weak from hunger. I will be joining my father, sooner rather than later, if I can't drink my male's blood soon. "Open the door," I whisper. I hold the vial in both hands, fearful of dropping it.

The door slab is pulled away. The postites strain, faces red with effort in the sunlight gleaming off of the sands. Finally, the slab stops moving, stuck most of the way open, but still covering part of the doorway. I peer into the darkness of the tomb and see white cloth everywhere. A piece flutters out of the door, blown by the wind across the sand.

I inhale in shock, tentatively taking a step forward even as the Postites step backward. The cloth of the burial shroud that Arim of the First was wrapped in has been shredded like a wild animal got to it. In the doorway, I grip the vial tighter. I'm ready. I can do this. According to my father, Arim of the First must be dealt with. Then maybe I can work out how to free Thelios from Anthea's grasp.

I can hear something in the tomb. Soft breathing. Oh, gods, I'm driving myself crazy. I don't hear breathing. It's just my mind playing tricks on me.

I take a step inside, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. I ready myself for the horror of the Forgotten corpse. I can do this.

The vial slips from my fingers, hitting the floor with a crash.

A gloved hand reaches down and picks it up. It didn't break, miraculously. A laugh of pure hysteria bubbles up.

He twist the top off and raises it to his lips. He drinks my blood and sighs softly. "Thank you, Princess." Smiling, he steps towards me, grey eyes shining warmly at me. "You are even more beautiful than I remember, my Lady."

"Thane," I whisper.