Chapter 34
Daisy
Daisy didn’t get time to think. She reached out with her magic, the same magic that could stop someone using her if she so chose, and sapped the strength from those obsidian chalices.
Just as she’d brought them to life, now she deadened them.
Eldric had said it was within her power to do so.
It was why the crystal chalice was always meant to be a thinking, logical being.
Her knife elongated into a sword, ready for battle.
“No.” Tarian put out his hand to stop her. “This is my fight.”
His magic didn’t well up like with the guards. Instead, he pulled his own magical knife from its sheath. It glowed in the dim light as the princess’s face crumpled into a mask of rage. Her vile magic swirled around her. It didn’t get the boost from the chalices she was looking for.
Still, she had plenty, and she attempted to use it.
“Do you want me to wither her magic?” Daisy asked as Tarian’s sword elongated into a staff.
He chuckled darkly. “Her magic is nothing to me now. An annoyance. I’ll keep it at bay.”
The Fallen continued to fight with vigor. Tarian walked right through the center of them, his staff whirling, the light spinning. The princess flung out her hands. Shadowy magic curdled the air between them and met his gorgeous resistance of dawn. The new day would bleed away all the night’s power.
He was on her, thrusting with his staff.
She snatched a blade from a sheath at her hip and countered.
He twirled and struck, cutting off a necklace, then a beaded, decorative broach.
She parried, blocked, stepped back. He was everywhere at once, striking at her, putting her on the defense.
Always advancing. It wasn’t until they were in her bedchambers, Daisy running to stay close, that Tarian’s sword work intensified.
“You always wanted me in here,” he told the princess, too fast for her.
Stripping away her layers of wealth one strike at a time.
He was like a vengeful god, mighty and masterful, beautiful to watch.
“You always wanted me bared and at your disposal. I told you that someday I would have my vengeance. Well, you can thank a human female for allowing my claims to come true.”
He slashed, opening a streak of red across her stomach.
Again, down the middle. Insides fell outside and streamed down.
She screamed, trying to protect herself.
Trying to gain the upper hand. But he showed how he’d gotten those ten rings on each arm.
He proved why he was the best, not just in magic, but in all things.
A limb hit the ground. Another. Then her head followed.
She didn’t die, though. She didn’t stop flailing. The mind was dead—well, detached, really—but the magic forced the body to live on. The reality of that would give Daisy nightmares. Zombies weren’t supposed to be real.
Tarian drove his staff through the princess’s chest and into the floor, skewering her and keeping the body put. Without arms, she’d be hard-pressed to get free.
“Drain her, dove,” he said, watching her with cold, heartless eyes. “End her.”
It would’ve been better if Daisy had some fire starters and a little time, but they’d have to settle for figuratively burning this shit-box to the ground.
She siphoned away the magic, and as she did, the body convulsed wildly. The feet kicked and braced, trying to help the body up. Even now—with no head!—the creature was trying to get at Daisy to save the life Faerie gave it.
In the silence that followed, Tarian breathed heavily, looking down at the corpse. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to. Daisy could read the thoughts racing across his face, understand the pain, remembering how he’d suffered by the princess’s hand.
Daisy scooted closer and slipped her arm around him. He pulled her in quickly, hugging her close, not looking away from what used to be the princess.
“It doesn’t erase the…” He didn’t finish. Daisy nodded against his shoulder. “But it does close the book on that chapter of my life. It is the ending I sought.” He kissed her forehead. “I needed you for this. I’ve always needed you for this. The gods must’ve known.”
He tilted up her head and kissed her lips softly.
“Now,” he said, “let’s go get the others. And this time, we’ll bring a match. How’s that?”
It didn’t take them long. None of the nobles stood in their way, not wanting to sacrifice themselves for the good of the kingdom.
Or maybe they knew this was for the good of the kingdom, and they didn’t want to stand in a Celestial’s way of chopping down the rotten royalty.
The innocent servants and slaves who’d had no choice in this life weren’t harmed.
They were freed and sent on their way, allowed to take any gold or jewels they could for a fresh start.
Apartments and bedchambers were burned. Flames contained to the royal chambers danced in glory.
Strangely, people recognized Tarian for who he used to be—a Celestial prince—but not for the position he’d recently had.
It seemed as if getting his old identity back had erased the temporary persona.
They bowed or knelt, looking up at him with reverence or fear or both.
It was a stark contrast to the mocking snarls the nobility had borne, or the avoidance the servants had employed.
If any of the nobles thought they’d get to go over the fringe, now they knew otherwise.
Given other kingdoms were interested, the spies fled upon learning what was happening, evading anyone trying to stop them.
It meant the corruption would continue to spread, and the human world was still not safe.
Tarian had known that would happen, and if Daisy had had any doubts, they had been laid to rest.
By the time they got back to Tarian’s quarters, they were both exhausted from the carnage.
“Secure the worst of the nobles,” Tarian told Kayla. “What’s left of them, anyway. Tell Eldric to finish the setup tonight. We’ll use it tomorrow morning. Make sure no one stands in our way.”
“Yes, sire.” Kayla offered him a bow, and her eyes sparkled with joy and relief. She’d gotten her identity back as well.
“What about her wings?” Daisy asked when he had shut and warded the outer doors. “They’re Celestials, right?”
“They agreed to have their wings stripped when they stood forward on my behalf. They don’t expect it, but my aim is to rectify their sacrifice and return their wings.”
“How?”
He took a deep breath. “I have to travel across the Sea of Stars and up the Forgotten Mountain. The Oracle of Aethras, a being integrated into Faerie while still being removed, is there. That Oracle is not indebted to the gods and does not follow their will or their rule. The scripts say it is older than time. Older than the stars and the fabric they hang from. The Oracle can restore their wings, though I’ll need to trade something dear to grant the boon. ”
“And that will be?”
He looked down at her with a heaviness in his gaze.
“My life, though it won’t mean much to me at that point.
Balance will have been restored, and so the last thing I will need to do is wipe myself from this land and allow my family to resume their lives in peace.
That’s where I’ll trade myself for the good of the realm. ”
Her heart filled with such pain that she nearly couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t think of a world that didn’t include him. Didn’t want the separation that death would bring.
“But I thought…you’d be appealing to the gods?”
“No. Something older and more powerful than the gods. Their creator.”
She had questions, but she didn’t have the ability to ingest any more information right now. Fatigue consumed her. She needed to relax. She wanted quality time with Tarian, the last she’d have. This was it. Her time was done. They had this one night left, and she intended to make the most of it.
First they took a bath, washing and soaking and making love. Then Tarian brought in a royal inker, as they were called, to apply the tattoo that had better fucking glitter.
They’d decided on a design together, something to integrate his royal Celestial chest design so that the finished product would encompass the part of him he’d lost, regained, and would trade himself for. The part of him that would soon be lost forever. And something she thought was really pretty.
The finished result was breathtaking, dainty and intricate at her bust and dipping between her breasts.
It was, indeed, diamond dusted. Once finished, the royal inker stared at them both with a pale face and shaking limbs.
At one point, he’d picked up a knife, looking at Tarian like he wanted to kill the Celestial.
A burst of magic had made him reconsider, and his tense posture over leaving had indicated he wasn’t comfortable with what he’d done.
“It’s that diamond-dusted myth or whatever, right?” Daisy asked as she looked at her tattoo in the mirror. “He’s afraid we’ll ruin the kingdom?”
“Something like that.”
“Well…” She turned to him, running her hand across his matching design. It didn’t bleed like a human tattoo. It didn’t hurt. It was almost like he’d simply painted it on. “We will, right? We’ve already started.”
“Yes. And they’ve brought it on themselves.” He bent to kiss her. “Anything left on your trucker list?”
She furrowed her brow. “My trucker list? What’s that?”
He cocked his head. “Isn’t that what humans call the, like, last things they want to do with their time?”
She laughed. “Bucket list. The things you want to do before you die. Trucker list? Where did you get that? Do you even know what a trucker is?”
He smiled, his hands drifting over her hips. “Your mind just told me. I have no idea where I heard it. I picked it up wrong.”