Chapter 55

Chapter

Fifty-Five

E nness and I made our way through the prison, stopping cell by cell.

Mostly abandoned by the guards, the prisoners had become a kind of family over the years. Enness knew every name and every crime, those I could trust and the dangerous few I was best to leave behind. Though I believed in his best intentions, I quietly used my Umbros magic to verify the honesty of each person’s promise that I could trust their word.

Our numbers grew to a shocking size. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so surprised. Each realm had its own prisons and punishments—Descended who ended up here had either crossed the army or a foreign Crown. Neither outcome was common unless mortals were involved.

Their stories gave valuable insight on the Crowns. Unsurprisingly, none had been captured by the Umbros Queen or the Ignios King, both of whom would rather kill their targets than hand them over to Fortos. There were none from Lumnos either, though I suspected Luther’s years of intervention were at play. Most had been captured from Sophos, Meros, Montios, and Faunos, whose Crowns seemed content to play by the rules.

As I healed away wounds and flameroot, the hollow in my chest took on a greater heft. The voice of my godhood was growing distant, and fatigue had turned my brain fuzzy and my movements slow. I wrestled with my better judgment to stop and conserve my power, but that would mean leaving good people behind, and after seeing the squalor they’d lived in and the torture they’d faced, I couldn’t bear to walk away.

At the end of the corridor, the mortals watched with palpable trepidation. By the time I rejoined them with the Descended, the tension in the air had grown thick enough to choke on.

“But they’re criminals,” someone said. “Dangerous ones.”

“So are all of you,” I said dryly.

“How can we trust them when they’re not even trusted by their own kind?”

“Maybe being distrusted by their kind is a good thing,” Runa offered. I flashed her a grateful smile.

A host of brown eyes settled on my mother as they looked to her to take their cues.

She crossed her arms, lips pursing. My anger at her still roiled beneath my skin. I considered bursting into her mind to rant about how badly we needed them, how they were worthy of saving, how I thought better of her than petty prejudice. Just as my temper was about to win, she walked forward and extended a hand to Enness.

“Thank you,” she said simply. “We appreciate your help.”

He clasped it with an easy smile. Throughout the hall, muscles relaxed with fading worry, not the least of which was mine. I led the newly combined group down the corridor while I explained the details of my plan.

I felt their suspicious stares as they took in the charred bones and pool of blood in the hallway where I’d killed the King, but either for fear of me or apathy for what I’d done, no one said a thing. A few mortal children shrank away, and a Meros Descended brought a wave of water to sweep the remnants of my carnage under a door and out of sight.

I raised my palms to the opening in the ceiling and pushed out Arboros magic, conjuring ropey roots that stretched to the prison floor. Enness and another Arboros Descended joined in to thicken the cords and craft knots to make them easier to climb.

Luther’s hand closed around my arm. “Your magic is running low,” he said, too quietly for the others to hear. “I can feel it in your aura. Let the Descended give you some of our magic to strengthen yours.”

I shook my head. “You’ll need all the magic you can get to shield the mortals, and I need those Descended strong when we part ways in Lumnos.”

Luther’s brows carved low, his muscles twitching at the clash of his instincts to keep me safe at everyone else’s expense.

I forced a smile. “I’ll be fine. Their magic can’t hurt me.”

“But their weapons can,” he said darkly.

His thumb swept across my wrist. Somehow the simple gesture felt deeply intimate, bringing a blush to my cheeks and heat pulsing over my skin. My heart broke into a sprint that had nothing to do with the battle we were about to face.

I leaned in closer, my chest brushing his. “Chin up, Prince. I’m about to put on a show just for you.”

His eyes dropped to my lips and blazed. I stretched toward him, yearning to feel his mouth on mine, but from the corner of my eye, my mother’s glare was a siren in the silence. I needed them to work together—setting off this particular bomb would have to wait until we escaped.

If we escaped.

I love you , I said into his mind. Just in case.

His hunger deepened to something more profound. He grudgingly let go, though his knuckles brushed my arm in silent response.

“Enjoy the view,” I crooned as I grabbed the vine and started my ascent.

The air was eerily quiet when I approached the edge. No voices, no sounds of running, no clink of blade-on-blade from the training fields. Heavy clouds obscured the sunset, and the sky had darkened to a flat, portentous grey.

I cast a thought out to Sorae. Her wingbeats broke the silence as her silhouette soared above my head.

Now , I commanded.

A deafening snarl rippled through the air. I pulled my head above the ground—and the blood drained from my face.

Soldiers.

Soldiers and more soldiers.

Far more than we’d seen before.

Hundreds, maybe thousands. Mortal and Descended.

A massive circle all around the opening. Weapons drawn, shields up, magic conjured.

I frantically ducked back down before the draw of Sorae’s distraction wore off, gasping against a flood of rising, burning fear. Not for my own life, but for the faces staring up at me—the people who’d put their faith in me to lead them to freedom, a vow I wasn’t so sure I could keep.

I sent Luther an image of what I’d seen, and—gods bless him—he gave no reaction. He simply nodded and turned to the others to calmly convey what they needed to know.

My nails sunk deep into the fibrous roots as I swayed just beneath the surface, willing my trembling to subside. A gust of wind fluttered through the hair that had come loose from my braid, and my father’s words swirled around me in the whispering breeze.

If you are outnumbered or overwhelmed, or if all seems lost, just keep moving. Onward, until the very last breath.

I drew air into my lungs, wrapping his guidance around my heart like a glittering shield, then hoisted myself up onto solid ground.

A hundred swords raised in response, a thousand eyes trapping me in place.

“You sure know how to make a girl feel special,” I called out. “Do all Crowns get this treatment, or does your King have a little crush?”

“Our King is dead.” A red-eyed soldier walked forward, his heavy regalia marking him as the Fortos High General. The aura of his potent magic slammed into me with a hostility that matched his acrid scowl. “And I think you killed him.”

I cocked my head. “Now why would I do that?”

He held up an object in his hand.

I swore softly. A messenger hawk’s scroll.

“It seems the Regent of Lumnos believes you should not be allowed inside the prison. He sent a warning that you came here with the intent to kill.”

Rage smoldered through me. I wasn’t the least bit surprised at the lengths Remis would go to see me off the throne, but throwing his son’s life away for temporary power was low, even for him.

I feigned a casual shrug. “My Regent can’t bear it when I’m away. He’ll say anything to get me home.” I gave a long, exaggerated sigh. “Perhaps he has a crush, too.”

A quiet snort rose from underground.

The High General was not so amused. “I saw the column of light. I know what it signifies. Whoever our new King is, he was right there when the old King died.”

“Well whenever you find him, send him my thanks for the easy exit.” I took the excuse to glance down at the hole, my nostrils flaring wide at what I saw.

I quickly looked back at the High General. “The King was looking quite sickly earlier.” I pouted. “If only he’d seen a healer in time.”

He strode closer. My hands curled at my side, and a dome shimmered over me, wide enough to encircle the opening, as Sorae’s growl rolled through the air.

“Turn yourself in now, and you won’t be killed,” he said. “We’ll designate you a prisoner of the Crowns. You can beg them for your life.”

I tapped my chin in mock consideration. “A generous offer. There’s just one tiny problem.”

He sneered. “And what’s that?”

“A Crown holds no authority over other Crowns.”

My hand flew out toward the north. A wave of writhing shadow sliced through the air like a blade, carving through the ranks and sending soldiers diving across the rocky soil to flee its bite.

Around the clearing, battalions advanced. With a flick of my finger, magic spread across the perimeter in a wall of dancing darkness that cracked its whip at any who came near.

“ Now! ” I shouted.

The escaping prisoners tumbled out in a mad dash, streaming from the opening like an anthill overturned. An onslaught of magic slammed against my shield, and the wall of shadows wavered as my power diverted to fortify the dome.

With a pulse of devotion and a howl of wrath, Sorae swooped low, unleashing a stream of dragonfyre that sent soldiers scrambling and a wide berth forming in their lines.

My eyes locked with Luther, who kneeled along the edge, helping mortals to the top. “Get them out of here,” I ordered. “Keep the shield strong.”

He thrust a spear of light whizzing over my shoulder. Splinters and shrapnel exploded behind me, remnants of a spiked bolt that had been on a collision course with my head.

“Watch your back,” he snapped. “If something happens to you, I’ll suffocate this entire fucking realm in darkness.”

A shiver prickled my skin. His vicious tenor left no question that was a promise he would keep.

“Diem,” my mother shouted. She had a mortal child cradled on her hip, another cowering at her side, their tiny hand clutched in hers. Her expression was resolute, but I saw the glint of fear in her eyes at the mass of soldiers closing in. “Be careful, my little warrior. Remember everything Andrei taught you.”

My throat burned. I managed a stiff nod. “Stay close to Luther. He’ll keep you safe.”

Luther scooped up the child at her feet and led the others toward the break in the ranks. My shield strained to stay with them, though its glittering canopy faded with every step.

The earth shook as Sorae slammed to the ground at their backs amid a tempest of sapphire flame. My skin stung with the painful echoes of the spears that sliced across her hide.

I fled in the opposite direction, chased by a hailstorm of arrows and an encroaching ring of men. I threw out a pulse of magic with as much power as I could muster, and my heart sank—the soldiers stumbled, but held their ground.

The abyss in my chest spread at a startling rate. My godhood felt darker, heavier, its voice too far away.

Time for a change of course , I thought. Flash over substance .

With a crook of my finger, glittering sparks exploded across the field. A harmless illusion, but the soldiers scrambled to get away, buying me precious time while commanders barked orders to reform the lines.

Luther and the others hit the edge of my magic’s reach. Making a careful gamble, I dissolved my shield and the barrier of shadows I’d built across the clearing.

“Oh, no!” I held up my hands, wiggling my fingers. “I’m out of magic. What ever will I do now?”

The High General bristled at my taunting tone. He raised a palm to attack, then paused, jaw working with indecision.

“Don’t tell me Fortos men are afraid of one weak little woman,” I mocked.

My arrow struck its bullseye in his pride. His magic barreled toward me, marked by its telltale stench of death. As my skin flashed with light and my energy rose, I dipped my chin to hide my triumphant smile.

He doubled his efforts, joined by his soldiers, and my body became a brilliant, shining star. I egged them on with pleas for mercy and a theatrical crumple to my knees. Scattered laughs arose from soldiers gleeful to see a Queen of Emarion beg for her life at their feet.

“The prisoners are getting away,” a man yelled. “We can’t get past her gryvern to follow them.”

The High General whipped his head toward them, then frowned. Slowly, he slid his gaze back to me, brows dipping as he watched his solders’ magic pelt my skin. “Gryverns always come when their Crowns are hurt. Why isn’t hers here?”

Awareness dawned in his eyes.

“Send the mounted cavalry.” He grabbed his sword and strode toward me. “I’ll draw the beast back here.”

Shit.

“Give me a blade and make it a fair fight,” I called out, backing away. “Or do you only get off on hurting women when they’re defenseless?”

The High General laughed. “You’re not defenseless. You’re the distraction .”

His blade whistled toward my head. I hurriedly cast a shadow sword to deflect the strike.

“The Crowns will have your head,” he growled.

I smirked. “They’ll have to catch me first.”

“You think you can hide? You’re not even in power in your own realm. There’s no place on the continent where you’ll be safe.”

Dread tied a noose around my throat. His words were landing where his blows had not.

I ducked another swipe of his blade, my focus darting to the soldiers racing away on horseback. In a burst of panic, I hurled out my arm—and prayed.

A shocked but victorious cry tore out of me as the horses reared on their hind legs, courtesy of Faunos magic. Angry neighs joined bucking backs, sending their Descended riders plunging to the ground.

Searing pain lanced through my side.

The High General had taken advantage of my distraction. Hot, sticky blood oozed from a gash below my ribs.

The air rippled with Sorae’s distant, enraged snarl. Across the bond, I yelled an order to hold her position, assuring her I could survive without her help, but my doubt in my own words seeped through, weakening the binding force of my command. Her winged silhouette soared back and forth across the battlefield as she wrestled with the conflict.

I pushed the High General back with a shot of light, but I could barely lift my arm, let alone a weapon. I needed to heal—and I needed magic .

I turned and ran at the nearest line of Descended soldiers. Just as I’d hoped, they reacted on instinct, pelting me with a violent buffet of magical attacks.

Energy surged through my blood and awakened my nerves in a deluge of fire and ice. Soldiers shielded their eyes and looked away as my skin grew blindingly bright. It was intoxicating, the highest high, a euphoric torrent of liquid life injected directly into my veins. My wounds stitched together as my godhood gorged with abandon.

“Stop,” the High General bellowed. “ Stop attacking her! ”

Hundreds of heads—including mine—swiveled at once. His crimson eyes were as vibrant as fresh-drawn blood. “I don’t know how, but you’re getting stronger. You want us to attack . ”

“You do that a lot, don’t you?” I asked.

His scowl wavered. “Do what?”

“Convince yourself that women want what you’re offering.”

A venomous smile that I very much disliked the look of unfurled across his face. “You know what? I think I’ve finally figured you out.”

He sheathed his sword.

“Vice General?” he barked at a man behind him. “Pull back the Descended. Send in the mortal battalions. Let the Queen have a go at them instead.”

My stomach dropped to my feet, taking my smirk with it. The High General’s dark laughter reverberated in my head as a wall of brown-eyed soldiers stepped through the front lines.

I threw up a barrier of sparks, ominous but harmless. The High General either didn’t believe I would hurt them or simply didn’t care—either way, he bellowed an order, the mortals advanced unscathed, and my bluff was called.

My heart lurched. I was outnumbered, outsmarted, trapped between harming the very people I was fighting to save or reveal the secret I was desperate to keep.

“Fine—you want to meet your King’s new heir?” I shouted, jaw tight. I summoned the Crown into view atop my head. “Here I am. Now get on the ground and fucking kneel .”

“That’s not our Crown,” he stammered, though recognition blanched his face.

“It’s the Crown of Lumnos and the Crown of Fortos.” My smile was frosty. “It seems the Kindred have learned to share their toys.”

His head thrashed in stunned denial. “This—this is some kind of trick.”

“And what of the Descended prisoners—what trick restored their magic? What trick opened the bloodlocks on their cells?”

“You are a woman,” he spat. “The Blessed Father would never choose—”

His words choked as my palm stretched toward him, fingers twisting in. He gripped at his gut, wobbled on his feet, then sank, features gnarled in a horrified stare.

Fury flickered in my eyes. “Tell me again what the Blessed Father would not do,” I seethed.

The battlefield turned eerily quiet. Swords began to lower. A few knelt in wary salute. Even the mortals fell still, caught in a Descended political landmine.

My chin jutted high. “You will stand down and let me leave. I have business in Lumnos. When I am done, I will return to Fortos, and we—”

“No.”

The word exploded through the field.

The High General climbed back to his feet, knuckles white along his fists.

I swallowed tightly. “I am your Queen, and you will obey my com—”

“ No ,” he said again. “I don’t know what blasphemous spell you’ve managed to weave, but this is Fortos. We do not kneel to bitches like you.” He pointed a finger. “Mortals—kill the traitor.”

An awkward silence hung. Not a single mortal advanced. They shrank back, faces drawn with conflict.

“Kill her,” he barked again. “And if anyone refuses, I’ll use them as kindling on her pyre.”

To prove his point, he raised a palm at the mortal nearest me, a ruddy-cheeked young recruit. The soldier managed only a choked-off grunt before his boyish face slackened in heartbreaking, excruciating realization, then faded to a deathly shade of grey.

“ Stop! ” I screamed.

My shield whipped forward a beat too late. By the time it glimmered into place, the only thing it guarded was a pile of bones and rotting ash.

“Every minute she’s not dead, one of you meets the same fate,” the High General warned.

This time, no one hesitated. They crushed in on me in a swinging, snarling fight for their own lives that I met with magic and chaos.

Everything unleashed—thrashing vines mixed with watery torrents, patches of slippery ice spun with bursts of churning air. While I fought desperately to push them back without taking their lives, my godhood hissed a plea to ignite a bonfire of sinew and blood. I yanked on its reins to hold back its most violent desires, but as mortals broke through my defenses, I feared my own panicked heart would betray me—and them.

Two dark swords took form in my hands. With bedlam all around me, I had to trust my training to guide me as the song of combat struck up its bloody tune. I parried and feinted, thrusted and lunged, leaning on my father’s lessons and emulating Alixe’s savage grace.

The crush pressed in and in and in. For every soldier I stopped, two more took their place. My reflexes turned sluggish, my instincts began to fail.

I was tired, frantic, overwhelmed. Wounds throbbed in every limb, and fresh blood—mine, theirs—painted a crimson carpet at my feet. Pain became such a constant I could no longer distinguish between the damage I took on and the damage I dealt.

“Kill her already,” the High General roared.

He bent his fingers in a twisting knot. A trio of mortals screamed in agony as their bodies disintegrated to a stinking muck.

Something snapped inside me.

My heart went numb. Darkness clouded my vision, brought on by my fury and my weakened state. It felt as if all my goodness and love had withered alongside those mortals and left me with a core full of rot.

If this was my end, I’d go down in a blaze—and I’d be taking someone with me.

My glare narrowed on the High General.

End yourself .

His eyes turned glassy and vacant. The sword dropped from his hand.

I sent the last ounce of my magic in a harsh burst of air that sent the mortals flying. My shadow swords dissolved, and the hollow in my chest consumed me at last.

Though the High General’s face was slack, doom thrashed behind his gaze. My lips curled in a cold, malicious smile.

My conscience tugged at my sleeve, its quiet voice whimpering for me to stay my hand. But even if I wanted to—and I wasn’t sure I did—I had no magic left to rewrite his gruesome fate.

His quivering fingers pulled a small knife sheathed at his waist and brought its edge to his throat.

The mortals had recovered from my final blast. They angrily climbed back to their feet, no longer needing any encouragement to want me dead. They raised their swords and ran toward me.

I had no weapons, no magic.

No allies.

No hope.

Only darkness. Only death .

A grim acceptance settled through me.

The soldiers were shouting something—one word, over and over again—but it was lost in a cacophony of voices and wingbeats and bootfalls.

The battlefield faded away, leaving only me and a red-eyed High General whose pleading stare I held as blood splashed across his chest.

A shadow passed over me. Loose hairs tickled my cheeks with a sudden breeze blowing at my back.

The soldiers stopped advancing. And looked up.

“ Gryvern! ”

Something jerked me backward. My stomach dropped with a weightless flutter as the world became a falling, spinning blur.

I went slack, paralyzed by confusion. Where were the soldiers? Where was the ground?

“Diem—grab my hand.”

The growling command cut through the chaos. It was a voice my heart trusted so completely, my body obeyed before my mind understood. My arm stretched up until my fingers brushed against warm, coarse skin, and I clutched it like a leash to life itself.

An arm curled around my waist and dragged me up against a wall of steel-hard flesh.

“You’re safe,” the voice rumbled in my ear, breathless and rough. A second arm braced across my shoulders and caged me in. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

The horizon finally leveled, and my eyes dropped to the ground. The field was now a hundred yards beneath me, but in the center, one man stood out.

Red eyes, unblinking. A dagger in his hand. A gash across his neck.

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