Chapter 79
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Thick branches wind around my wrists and ankles, the rough bark digging into my skin, until I’m dangling in the air. Zev lunges toward me, sword aimed for the thickest root, but a large mound of packed earth erupts from the ground and slams into his chest, sending him staggering backward.
“Easy now, brother. Don’t piss me off.” Faramir’s menacing chuckle slices through the darkness. “I’ll cut her clean in two. Then we can both have a piece.”
“Let. Her. Go.” Zev’s snarl vibrates with rage.
Faramir rests a finger on his cheek, pretending to consider it.
“No,” he says with a malicious grin.
The sky rumbles overhead.
Faramir grins, circling Zev. “Father would’ve done anything to save you, brother. He thought the Tundrayni pigs captured you. It would’ve crushed him to learn his favorite son was actually a traitor.” He stills, face contorting into a grim smile. “Luckily, he’ll never know.”
“What do you mean?” Zev growls, knuckles white on his sword.
The twisted smile on Faramir’s lips sends a rush of revulsion through me. “I killed him, of course. You should’ve believed me that night, brother. Did you know he was planning to crown you? He wanted you and your bitch to rule.”
Zev lunges toward Faramir.
The roots binding my hands yank upwards, while the ones around my ankles tighten. Pressure mounts at my joints, my limbs straining against the roots.
I try to muffle my pained gasp, but Zev hears it anyway and whirls, mere feet away from impaling his brother. Faramir hadn’t even flinched in the face of Zev’s sword.
Fear rages in Zev’s eyes, and it stokes the flames of my fury.
“Want to know how I did it?” Faramir sounds positively gleeful. “You two made it so easy. Mayah. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. Thank you for all the toxinnia. And brother, you left with your bitch so quickly. Didn’t even make sure it was all disposed properly.”
A bolt of lightning strikes, but Faramir seems to expect it.
Mounds of earth tear from the ground and form a barrier over his head, absorbing the electricity.
His face transforms into a vicious snarl, and the roots stretch me farther.
Hot blood drips down my wrists from the deep wounds gouged into my skin by sharp thorns.
Another vicious crack of lightning.
My heart races. Easy, Mayah. Relax. You can do this.
I focus on Zev. It’s him. It’s him. Not my father. It’s Zev. Protecting me.
The bite of wooden antlers against my palm.
The flash of lightning, illuminating my shaking knees.
Breathe, Mayah. Breathe.
Spine rigid, I stare directly into Faramir’s hate-filled eyes.
“You’ve been such a wonderful addition to our family, Mayah,” he purrs. “Finally. My brother has a weakness.”
The thunder rumbles louder. So does the pounding in my ears.
“I am not a weakness,” I grit through the pain shearing through my wrists and ankles. “Or a bitch. I am a fucking force of nature.”
My hands form tight fists over my head.
Water rises from the ground in glimmering drops.
Faramir’s mouth drops, eyes wide. “Wh—that’s not possible!”
“You wanted a waterwielder. Here I am.”
Water swirls into a dense orb over his head, swallowing his garbled screams and flooding his lungs.
Zev lunges. His sword flashes—a clean arc of steel.
Faramir’s head drops one way. His body sways the other.
His corpse hasn’t even hit the ground yet, but Zev’s already moving. In a blur, he’s before me, slicing through the roots holding me captive.
When I fall, he’s ready for me. We sink to the ground. I wince as Zev gingerly unwraps the thorny roots from my wrists.
“Are you all right?” His voice is cold, hollow eyes fixed on his brother’s corpse, yet his hands are gentle as they cup my face.
“Yeah,” I rasp, glancing at Faramir’s severed head. “Are you?”
He nods jerkily. “Come on. The kitchens.”
The forest breathes around us, rustling leaves and trilling insects.
We’ve walked nearly half the perimeter of the camp, within viewing range of the border through the cover of trees.
With my reserves running low, Zev reasoned it’d be safer to cut through the forest, and only descend into the camp’s chaos when we’re closer.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” I ask softly. “He … he was still your brother.”
A shadow darkens his face. “I had no love for him.”
“That’s not a yes.”
“It’s all I can give right now.”
“You—”
He freezes beside me, head snapping to the right.
“What?” I ask, following his gaze. There’s nothing but a thick copse of trees. His answer is the unsheathing of his sword.
“Let me handle this,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.
“What—”
“They’re coming closer,” he grits out, angling himself in front of me.
I unsheathe the sword Tumaas gave me.
A low rustling. A stuttered heartbeat.
And then four men emerge wearing snarls and blue furs.
Zev doesn’t hesitate.
He flies through the clearing, sword in hand. Two men hit the floor, blood seeping from gaping wounds in their necks.
But the other two are fast. Well-trained. Perhaps by Daak.
An ice spear hurtles toward Zev, barely dodged in time. Still, it grazes his arm, leaving a thin stream of blood. The other warrior rounds on me, water whip flinging toward my legs. I freeze it, then send it flying back. It melts before it reaches him.
Zev’s back is turned, fighting the other waterwielder.
The one fighting me flicks his blue gaze between us.
Assessing. Deciding.
He chooses Zev. I grit my teeth. He chose wrong.
Water rises from the ground, thin ribbons, frozen into serrated shards, at least thirty of them.
All aimed at Zev’s back.
No. No.
I dart across the clearing, pumping my legs faster than they’ve ever moved, arm raised to command the water. I manage to slow their trajectory, melting a few of the shards, but the waterwielder doubles down.
A sickening squelch. Zev kills his opponent.
He turns.
I fling myself in front of him, blunting some shards, melting others. But there are too many, too fast. Two serrated shards pierce my flesh, one embedding in my shoulder, the other in my thigh. A strangled cry tears from my mouth, and I crash backward into Zev.
He catches me. He always catches me.
Lightning crashes down with a fearsome roar—I’m not sure if the sound is thunder or if it’s Zev. The metallic stench of burned flesh invades my nostrils. The wielder’s unrecognizable body falls to the ground.
Zev whirls me around. “Fucking Skies, Mayah,” he growls, wild eyes scanning my injuries. “I told you to let me handle it.” I’ve grown accustomed to him being angry with me, but there’s a desperate sense of fear undercutting it now.
“You were about to be impaled,” I mutter, breaths shallow. “I couldn’t just watch.”
He’s panting hard. I can almost taste his rage in the air. “If something happened to you, then—”
“Then what?” I whisper, hope fluttering in my chest, even as my wounds bleed. “If something happened to me, then what?”
He cradles my face, pressing his forehead to mine.
“I—”
Zev freezes, the words dying on his lips.
My brows furrow, mouth poised to ask him what’s wrong.
Then—“You’ve always been a disappointment, Daughter.”
My blood freezes in my veins.
“But I never expected this from you.”