34 PRISCA
Asinia had asked us to wait, but we couldn’t wait much longer. Lorian gave me a look as Regner’s army continued to advance. Soon, we would—
Madinia grabbed my arm, and I jolted. The side of her neck and armor were covered in blood. “We have one chance!” she screamed, shaking me viciously enough that Lorian turned to give her a feral snarl.
“Asinia is going for the mirror,” Madinia said, ignoring him. I pushed away the confusion and disbelief. Asinia had asked me to trust her. She must have some kind of plan.
“Anyone between Asinia and the mirror is dead. Get our people out. Now.”
Lorian must have heard us, because he shouted the order at Marth, who carried it down the line.
This was it. Our one chance. We had to strike now.
I dug into the pouch around my waist for my trowth stone and handed it to her.
Madinia took it, turning away to repeat the order.
And Demos began roaring Asinia’s name. Where was she? Where—
Sprinting from the right, her silver armor stark against all the black, Asinia ran toward Regner’s front lines.
Demos was fighting his way toward her, brutally cutting down anyone who stepped into his path. Rythos and Marth jumped into place, guarding Tor.
Asinia hurtled down the edge of Regner’s lines, barely avoiding the human soldiers fleeing into the mountains. One of them struck out at her, and she ducked, rolled, and came back up on her feet.
A path had cleared between Demos and Asinia. His eyes were wild. It seemed as if the stress of the war, the horror of this battle, had broken something in Asinia.
And my brother…his screams…the agony in his voice burrowed deep into my chest.
“Madinia—” My voice cracked.
“No, Prisca. You have to trust her.”
And I knew. A hole opened up inside my chest as the realization slammed into me. Asinia was doing something she couldn’t take back.
Memories flashed before my eyes.
The first time Asinia asked her mother if I could stay for dinner, because she knew we had little food left.
The mixture of hope and fury in Asinia’s eyes when she realized I’d come for her in Regner’s dungeon.
The strained tension between her and Demos, slowly transforming into something deep, something precious.
And the way she’d thinned her lips just weeks ago, referring to herself as a liability.
Telean’s voice sounded in my head. “She was my best friend. We were supposed to have centuries.”
No. Please no.
I approached from the east. The human soldiers fleeing into the mountains paid me little attention as I worked my way parallel to Regner’s mirror.
The orb heated in my hand, as if it knew what I was about to do. And it truly hit me then. I was going to die. And I would also likely kill thousands of human soldiers— some of whom had been forced to fight this war. Perhaps that was the irony of using this weapon—and why no one without a pure heart could survive—because anyone who truly had a pure heart would never contemplate doing such a thing.
Somehow, using the weapon was all instinct. I knew what I had to do. And so I focused on Regner standing behind his lines, his expression a twisted mask of hate.
Blind terror rampaged through my body. I didn’t want to die. The orb cooled slightly, and I forced myself to focus on the battle in front of me. And I pictured the world after Regner was dead.
A better world. A happy world. A world where our people could be free.
Perhaps…perhaps it didn’t matter much after all if I wouldn’t be here to see it—not if it meant my friends would live.
My fear disappeared. And it was as if I was standing above my body, watching my own actions.
Someone ran with me. One of Conreth’s fae. He sliced his way through anyone who attempted to get close. And strangely, it was Lorian’s words that circled through my mind as I sprinted toward Regner.
“I think that has to be the worst part about dying. Leaving the people you love and regretting.”
My only regret was that I wouldn’t get more time. But I could never regret losing my life to save theirs. And suddenly, the thought that I’d wanted glory or notoriety during this war… It was silly now. All I really wanted was to know they would all survive. I didn’t need prestige.
And then I was turning, and the orb was heating once more—this time becoming so hot that it was as if it could sense my resolve.
I looked at the fae who’d guarded me this long.
“Run.”
He didn’t argue. He simply turned and sprinted away.
“I don’t think it’s the memories of your life that you see when you die. I think it’s the people you’ll miss the most. The people who made your life worth living. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, you see the one person you would defy the fates and stay for—if you could.”
Lorian was right. Because even though I was doing this for Pris and everyone else, it was Demos’s face that flashed in front of my eyes and stayed as I clenched my teeth and forced my hands to hold tight as my palms began burning, until my eyes watered and my lungs ached with a suppressed sob.
And then I heard him. The roar Demos unleashed echoed across the battlefield. “Asinia!”
“It brought up a lot of memories.”His voice played through my mind. “Memories of being helpless when I lost the people I loved.”
I hated myself for doing this to him again.
But he would live. And it was enough.
And then I was the one screaming as the burning in my palms spread throughout my entire body.
Every living creature between me and the mirror disintegrated.
My vision turned white.
A bright white light shone around Asinia, directed straight at the mirror.
Anyone who had power left to use joined her, along with Lorian, Brevan, and Galon, who channeled the power from their amulets. Jamic swayed on his feet, while Tor continued to slice at Regner, providing a distraction.
My vision speckled, my mind struggling to comprehend what I was seeing.
Anyone who had been standing between Asinia and the mirror was…
Gone.
Regner’s soldiers ran for their lives.
Prisca was running too.
Lorian’s expression was agonized as he watched her, but he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t remove his power from the mirror.
Prisca’s face crumpled. And then she began screaming as if she were being gutted. Because her best friend—the friend she had sacrificed so much for…
Asinia slumped to the ground, her eyes open and empty, skin drained of color.
The mirror shattered.
Demos dropped to his knees at her side. “Sin.” His voice broke, and he rocked her, a howl leaving his throat.
Prisca wouldn’t stop screaming.
And then Tibris was there, tears rolling down his cheeks as he shook his head.
Grabbing Prisca’s shoulders, I shook her. Just footspans from the mirror, Regner stood, face purple, his eyes filled with fury as he roared at one of his generals.
“Now, Prisca.”
My voice was harsh, the words thick around the lump in my throat. Her bloodshot eyes found the wreckage of the mirror. And then they cut to me.
For the first time, I was truly afraid of the hybrid queen.
“You knew,” she hissed.
“Asinia chose,” I snapped. “And the longer you wait, the higher the chance that sacrifice is worth nothing. So, kill our enemy and end this war, Your Majesty.”
The look she gave me was chilling. But the grief had left her face. In its place was a kind of remote coldness. An expression that made goose bumps rise on my skin.
Clutching her hourglass, she froze time for Regner and only Regner.
No one spoke as Prisca crossed the space between them. I barely breathed.
Her face was drawn and pale, tears still drying on her cheeks. But her eyes were filled with icy wrath.
She released her hold on time just as she pulled her sword.
Regner’s eyes widened.
And Prisca buried that sword in his chest.
He choked, his expression uncomprehending. And slowly, his face began to change. His nose lengthened, his eyes turned a dusky blue, his cheeks slimmed. Those were the features he would have had if he hadn’t killed and replaced the boys he’d pretended were his own.
My eyes found Jamic. He stared uncomprehendingly at Regner. As if his mind couldn’t reconcile what he was seeing.
Regner dropped to the ground. Lifeless.
And just like that, the Eprothan king was dead.
Prisca turned and walked away, her eyes filled with anguish and despair.
Asinia still clutched the orb, even in death. Demos had curled up next to her, and he snarled at us as we approached.
When he looked at me, I shivered.
Daharak stepped up next to me. “I know when a man wants to kill someone, and I suggest you get on my ship sooner rather than later.”
I nodded. “Glad you’re alive.”
“You too. Sorry about your friend.”
This time, I didn’t deny that Asinia had been a friend. A deep, dark hole was opening up inside my chest.
Prisca sat next to Asinia and took her hand. Her face was as lifeless as Regner’s.
And then the orb began to glow once more.
“It’s heating up!” Tibris said.
Lorian snatched Prisca and hauled her away, ignoring her struggles. Herne grabbed Tibris, who cursed at him but allowed him to pull him several feet from Asinia’s body.
Demos didn’t move. His sister screamed for him, and he still didn’t move.
Daharak tensed. “Purehearted,” she laughed, but it was bitter. “Perhaps the gods are the ones who decide such things.”
What did she—
The light flared, until several people cried out. I slammed my eyes closed.
And when I opened them again, Demos was holding Asinia’s body and rocking once more.
Only this time, she was holding him back. Her eyes slid open, and I caught sight of something more within them.
And then it was gone. “Please tell me Regner is dead,” she said.
Prisca was immediately by her side. “You’re in so much trouble.”
She threw her arms around Asinia, and both of them burst into tears.
Daharak sucked a breath between her teeth, and I followed her gaze. She wasn’t looking at Prisca and Asinia. No, she was staring down the beach at where Regner’s generals were gathering near his body.