57. Krait
Chapter 57
Krait
T here was an eerie sense of dread in the air as I made my way to the prison. The sun had set, and the wind kicked up dust—shops had closed and tents were left unattended. It was as though not a soul walked the streets except those we’d brought from Sahlmsara. Maybe it was the hour of worship. The Temple of Death still stood in Sahlmkar; it was upkept by the citizens here.
Ryn stood with a somber expression just inside the gates of the prison, in the courtyard. He had mostly healed from when I’d lashed out at him. Sahlmsaran guards were swarming the iron prison door, with weapons raised.
“ What is going on? Is this how we treat the ill now?”
“It’s a bloodbath, Krait. The prisoners revolted. They looked like rabid animals—eyes blackened, faces gray. They began to grow ill this afternoon. It’s chaos in there. We need to secure the perimeter and keep them contained.”
A sense of dread continued to churn in my stomach. Ryn’s instincts to keep Sybilla away from here had been right. The prison’s dark stone walls stretched up five stories, and thousands of people were kept there.
Slam, slam, slam.
There was a pounding sound on the prison door, like a bull trying to break free from a pen.
“Where did everyone in the city go ?” I asked Ryn. My heart sank…None of this was right.
He seemed to finally notice how silent the streets outside the walls of the courtyard had become and scratched his head.
Ryn started to say, “It’s as if everyone here...” Then his face paled as he stared up at the sky. I followed his gaze. A gray-rimmed darkness began to cover the moon.
The black moon.
Death’s rise.
Those who worship him will give their lives to become his vessels of destruction.
“It’s as if they are dead,” I finished for him. Cursing beneath my breath, I pulled a dagger from my boot.
Slam, slam, slam.
The giant iron doors of the prison burst open. Bloodcurdling, lifeless screams filled the air as prisoners piled out of the building. They looked ghastly…touched by death. Their eyes gleamed amber, their cheeks were sunken, and nothing separating their grayed skin from bone.
“Ryn…they’re Moirai. He’s here. He’s raised them.”
“We don’t have any chance of winning here,” Ryn yelled to me. The Moirai were deathwalking—traveling in a way much like my ability to travel through Shadows. They couldn’t sustain it far, but it meant they were upon us quickly. With the dagger, I began to cut through those who approached. Ryn covered my back, sword raised, doing the same.
“Retreat to Sahlmsara!” I yelled over the commotion to my men. Ryn was right—there weren’t enough of us to fight off this attack. “Now, go!”
Sybilla. I needed to get to her.
As though I’d summoned her, a familiar feeling seeped into the edges of my mind before I felt her slam in with desperation. I gasped as Sybilla took hold of my mind. Everything grew cloudy and cold. She gripped me only for a moment and images flashed.
White stucco walls, leather sofas, blue flowers. Piles of dust.
“He’s here. Caym is here. Run!” she screamed into the void between us.
When she recoiled and no essence of her was left, it felt like my world shattered.
“He has her! Caym—he has Sybilla.”
“What? How?” Ryn shouted as we struck through the prisoners and ran through the gates and into the city.
“I left her at the flat.” Panic seized me.
Shadowing myself away, I prayed to Desidero that my worst nightmares were not being realized.
It all came back to me in waves.
A wooden box—delivered to the palace gates of Brennax. A note atop it.
“Since your marriage could not be annulled, it needed to be ended.”
Signed by King Toth, Freya’s father. When I’d pulled the nails from that box, the tufts of silver hair had been the first things I saw. Hair, and then so much blood.
Nausea mounted as darkness whirled past.
It was said that once your heart realized you’d lost your Source Match, it never recovered—a wound that could not heal. And yet one woman had begun to make me feel capable of some healing, some warmth, and now she was facing our greatest enemy. Alone.
I burst into the Shadows of the flat. There were two piles of dust on the tile by the sofas. I choked on my fear, spinning around but finding no one else.
“Sybilla!” I called.
On the windowsill sat a full cup of blue tea. I lifted it and smelled—the earthy, sweet scent of garrot root. Fuck. I prayed to any Source Origin listening that she had not drank that tea. Her sword, bow, and quiver lay discarded on the floor. She would be defenseless.
My muscles seized up against my will.
“Hello, nephew. I knew you would come for her.”
A cloaked figure stepped from the shadows of the kitchen with a painful slowness. As Caym’s boots stopped in front of me and I met the eyes of Death, all air left my lungs.
“Stygian,” I hissed.
My ex-Commander stood before me. The man who had betrayed me centuries ago by leading the massacre in Phynx.
“I don’t go by that name any longer.”
“Krait?” Ryn burst through the door of the flat, looking winded. Damn loyal bastard.
“Run!” I shouted to my dearest friend. He needed to get out of here, but instead, he’d drawn his sword, ready to fight for me.
Ryn launched himself at Stygian, the mastermind behind so much destruction. My friend froze next to me mid-charge, sword up, and a wicked smile crept across Caym’s face.
Fuck.
With all of Isolde’s power returned, we were doomed. How does one battle the inevitability of Death? I feared for Sybilla, feared for us all.
“Prince Toth, your sister’s death gave me much power—so very sweet. Yes, she was such a willing servant, albeit only for a short while. I wonder if your Death will taste like hers.” Caym licked his upper teeth.
My jaw clenched. He had no right to mention Freya.
I scanned the flat once more, looking for signs of Sybilla. I would not let him draw me in with lies about my dead wife. I would not let him push me back into that abyss of anger. That was exactly what he wanted.
“Where is she?” I ground out.
Caym lifted a hand toward Ryn. “Don’t be concerned with the young Isleen—she will live on by my side as she was meant to. But my brother’s line ends with you.”
Ryn turned on me, face blank. My boots felt stuck to the floor as he approached me, drawing up his sword. I tried to scream, tried to reach out to him, but not a muscle moved. The whites of Ryn’s eyes went wide as he realized what Caym would compel him to do.
A droplet of sweat ran down my forehead as Ryn approached. Silenced and still, I stood helpless against Death.
Ryn pulled back his sword, ready to cut through the air and slice through my neck. My eyes welled.
Internally, I screamed out to her.
“Sybilla. You are my eternity. You always were.”