Chapter 37
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the morning light streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows that line both the eastern and western sides of the throne room.
No matter the time of day, the sun always shines on the King of Corinth.
A bullshit line fed to us in school by priests. Propaganda at its finest. The sun’s only purpose in this room is to illuminate the throne, painting the monarch to mimic the glowing appearance of a god.
My chained hands slip in blood as I try to press up. My head is heavy and clouded. All I want to do is lay back down and sleep. The throbbing in my head is so loud it almost sounds like my name.
Ivy, Ivy, Ivy.
“For fuck’s sake. IVY!”
The voice snaps me into consciousness and I force myself to turn toward it. Hair is matted over one of my eyes, and when I lift my hand to unstick it, I find a large gash at my hairline. A rivulet of scarlet decorates the white stone floor as it drips from my fingers.
“IVY!”
The voice draws my attention to a golden cage secured to the floor. Three bodies lay motionless in the square prison. Only their backs face me, each wearing black, rather than any color that could signify their identity.
“Ivy! Thank the gods! I thought you were dead.” The governor of Topaz stands at the edge of the cell grasping the bars in his hands. Silas’ blonde beard is stained red from the blood that streams from the wide cut that spans the length of his cheekbone.
“Wh...what…happened?” Words stick like honey in my mouth as I try to force them out.
“We were ambushed. They knew we were coming.” Silas waits for me to continue with my questioning but I can’t. My brain is foggy, barely able to form coherent thoughts. One name cuts through the haze, bouncing off the bony edges of my skull: Cal.
“Where?” I ask, the rest of the question not needing to be said aloud.
“They took the non-wielders to the dungeons and forced the rest of the aevus in here.”
Mustering all the strength left in my mind and body, I force myself to my feet and lunge towards the cell.
The heavy metal chain pulls taut in a dull snap, sending me tumbling back to the ground.
I follow the links with my eyes, from the iron manacles around my wrists to the large bolt that secures it to the stone floor.
I reach out for my magic, desperately calling for vines to snap the chain or shadowy decay to eat away at the metal, but nothing answers. Power hovers in my peripheral, visible but just out of reach. It dances around the corners of my vision but never comes close enough for me to grasp it.
“Marks personally took Murphy.”
Silas’ words only increase the urgency at which I call for my power. Over and over I silently scream for it, begging any god who will listen to grant me access. Physically, I am no match for Marks or the army of soldiers on his side. My only hope is my magic.
Without it, I am nothing. Without it, Death will take me slowly and painfully. Without it, Death will take Cal too.
“Our magic is gone, Ivy.” I snap my focus to the governor again as tears fill my eyes. “They forced a tonic down our throats.”
“No. No! NO!”
My voice echoes through the room as I scream, each word more forceful than the last, as if my defiance alone could wake me from this nightmare.
I yank at the chain and claw at the iron cuffs on my wrists, desperate to free myself.
I look inward, hopelessly searching for the slightest sign of my power.
“It didn’t have to be like this, Ivy.”
My barely contained panic increases at the sound of his voice. The cold, icy voice that belongs to none other than Lord General Marks. Time stills again, stretching thin as soulless gold eyes lock onto mine.
“If only you’d stayed in Emerald like a good little girl. But don’t worry, I will send your body back to your home … or what’s left of it, at least.”
“My home or my body?” I ask.
“Both.”
Marks tosses two ivory-handled blades across the throne room, the rune-carved alloy clanking against the stone floor as they bounce beyond reach. The air between us grows thick and cold as he laughs, causing my lungs to contract at the loss of oxygen.
Anger courses through me at his patronizing tone.
He couldn't stop at villainizing me; no, he had to ransack my region, destroy my home, and kill my people. All as revenge for my mother’s deal with Nobus.
With death a certainty, he thinks I will lay down and go quietly.
He thinks I will submit, but he’s underestimated me for the last time.
I try once more to call to my magic, squeezing my fists and eyes over and over to no avail.
“You have no power. I made sure of that. Not today, and not any day in your miserable life.”
Marks flexes his magic again, forcing me to my knees as I claw at my throat for air. He kneels in front me, grabbing my chin to force my eyes to his.
“I thought turning your people against you would be the hard part, but you did that on your own. All I had to do was plant the seed and Poison Ivy grew herself. It was so easy to make you their villain and ensure you stayed powerless.”
The golden doors of the throne room burst open, but Marks pays the intrusion no heed. He leans closer, his breath hot on my ear as I try to pull away from him.
“Your mother took me for a fool. She thought I wouldn’t piece her little bargains together, that I wouldn’t know you weren’t half-human. She thought I’d hurt you, but I’m not the one who came here with the intent to murder, am I? I know who you really are, Ivy Fellows, but do you know who I am?”
Iron clanks behind him, the gray form of soldiers visible just over his shoulders.
“That will be all,” Marks commands before releasing me and rising. He takes a single, deliberate step out of my line of sight, never taking his predatory eyes off of me.
A bloodied, beaten body lies chained to the floor across from me. A crimson trail paints the alabaster floor from the doors to his unconscious form. Something inside of me snaps, cracks in half at the sight of Cal.
I stand and lunge again, not learning my lesson from the first time. As the chain snaps taut and my knees slam into the stone floor, a deep and guttural scream breaks free from my throat.
“I’ve tried for years to get him to wield his full potential, you know.
I’ve tortured him again and again, but no amount of pain could force it to the surface.
So imagine my delight when I received word from Lieutenant Williams that the captain here had blackmailed him into being your little bodyguard.
I had high hopes that proximity to you would naturally grant him access to the true depths of his powers, but,” Marks clicks his tongue irreverently, “I guess I’ll just have to force it out of him some other way. ”
Cal stirs slightly, his body twitching in the still expanding red pool. There’s so much blood, more blood than should be possible for him to still be alive. I attempt to locate my magic again, searching for even a sliver of my power. But it’s as if I’m digging in the sand with no end in sight.
I call and call, but nothing answers.
“Oh good, you’re awake.” Marks taunts.
Planting his foot on Cal’s shoulder, he pushes down, causing the captain’s back to hit the floor in a wet thud. Blood splashes up around him as his head smacks the stone. Deep gashes cut into his tanned chest, only tatters remaining of his black shirt.
The iron manacles cut into my flesh as I try and fail to slip my wrists from their hold.
Please, please, I beg to any god who will listen. Give me my magic back.
The gods don’t answer.
Marks finds his favorite element first, constricting the air in the throne room until everyone but him is gasping for oxygen again. I crawl my way across the floor, inching as far as the chain will stretch before I collapse.
“Ivy.” Cal’s voice is strained, the single word excruciating.
Marks tightens his hold on the captain’s air, his body twitching again as he struggles to breathe. The predator squats before his prey, forcing Cal’s eyes away from me. A low, menacing growl rumbles through the chamber, an animalistic sound coming forth from the depths of Cal’s broken body.
“Show me your true power and this will all be over, nephew.”
Time slows again at the familial title that falls from the Lord General’s lips. A single drop of blood leaks from the mouth of the sea beast tattoo, hovering just above the floor as it slides off Cal’s chest.
Arcasia! I call out to the goddess, begging the one who sacrificed everything for him to help me save him now. Help me save him, Goddess of Protection. Help me save your son.
A single spark of magic flickers somewhere deep within me, illuminating the compound that makes up the plant-based poison in my system. The seed of power buries itself in the bonds and starts to leisurely unravel the tonic.
It works slowly—too fucking slowly. I need more time. I need to give it the life only my element is capable of—and I pray I won’t be too late.
Focus on life.
In a heady rush, time returns to its normal speed.
Flames burst forth in a circle around the base of the Amethyst Throne.
The crown sits on the plush purple seat, each of its six jewels sparkling in the firelight.
With a flick of Marks’ eyes, the flames begin marching in a line across the stone floor from the throne to the bolt securing my chains in place.
I tunnel down, but the ember of power inside me is still too small to answer my call. Scurrying backwards, I pull the chain as far away from the bolt as possible. Once the flames reach the iron, I will have only minutes before the heat travels up the links to the cuffs around my wrists.
The sea beast on my skin twists in a slow, sluggish move. The beginning of the end.