Chapter XI. Hurt Feelings #3
“She struck low, countered high, turning in a graceful pirouette and burying her longblade in Phoebe’s ribs.
I caught sight of the blow over Ettiene’s shoulder, roaring Phoebe’s name as the Maiden’s steel sank home.
The death’s-head on Kestrel’s face twisted as she drew back her scythe, set to take Phoebe’s head off her shoulders.
“‘We are forever,’ she breathed.
“The shot took her in the skull, one in a fucking million, silver blasting through marble flesh and bone. Joaquin roared in triumph as Kestrel’s head whipped sideways, blood and brain spraying Phoebe’s face.
My ’dancer was still pierced through the chest, dragging herself off Kestrel’s sword as the scythe clattered to the flagstones.
And with a bubbling gasp, both she and Kestrel collapsed to the stone.
“Ettiene heard the shot, turning to see his sister and dark lover fall. And in that heartbeat, I pictured my bride, my baby, this bastard laughing as they died. I pictured all the shining moments we’d had, pondered all the memories I’d been robbed of, all the might haves and if onlys and could have beens.
And as the Black Crow turned back to me, Valor sliced the air, my voice a whisper beneath.
“‘Nothing is forever.’
“The blow was perfect, still barely enough, carving through his beard and across his throat. Ettiene’s head snapped forward, a wheeze boiling from his sundered neck, and in its wake came flame, searing my skin so fierce I staggered, hand to my eyes.
With his voice box split, Ettiene wasn’t really able to scream.
But as his blood-soaked beard caught fire, something between a gurgle and a howl tore up from his burning throat.
The fear of death come to claim its due. The terror at eternity’s end.
“And unwilling to enter hell alone, the Black Crow charged.
“He struck like a hammer, breaking my ribs and sending us back into the railings. Lastbridge was solid granite, and still it shattered, the fall down to the Béni yawning below. I’d fallen farther from the walls of San Guillaume not so long ago, a girl I’d thought a boy in my arms. But Dior and I had fallen into flowing water then, and the river below was frozen solid.
“Desperate, I clawed at broken stone, catching hold as Ettiene tumbled past. Still howling, burning, arms pinwheeling as he fell through the dark, the Black Crow burst into ashes just before he struck the ice. I clung to my handhold over the gulf, gasping through bloody lips and punctured lungs. I couldn’t pull myself up for my agony, the bridge shaking as those cannons continued to roar.
But a face appeared above me then, golden eyes glittering, a bloody smile on her lips as she reached for me.
“‘Figured I’d say aye if ye asked.’
“‘W-what?’
“I took the hand Phoebe offered, wincing as she seized hold.
And with a hiss through red teeth, she pulled.
She was terribly wounded herself, cheeks bled pale under the freckles and scars, chest and throat drenched in blood.
Yet still she hauled me back up over the shattered railing, standing over me as I crawled up to my hands and knees.
“‘What did you s-say?’
“‘Said ye should’ve m-married me.’ She shrugged. ‘Figured I’d say aye if ye asked.’
“They say you never appreciate a moment until it becomes a memory, coldblood. But as I met Phoebe’s eyes amid that chaos, I knew this one would live in me forever.
“Her smile was beautiful.
“So was she.
“Even when the sword split her chest apart.
“Phoebe staggered, a foot and a half of red steel gleaming between us. I roared, clawing upright, desperate, all the world falling still. No cannon-fire drums. No song of steel. No gasp from Phoebe as Kestrel tore her sword free. Just silence, cold and absolute as the Iron Maiden swung her scythe, as that blade cleaved through air, neck, spine, taking Phoebe’s head clean off her shoulders just an arm’s length from my outstretched hand. ”
The Last Silversaint hung his head, running one thumb over the ink on his palm.
“A few inches and a thousand miles away.”
Quiet fell in the cell, broken only by the rushing water, the turning page, the historian’s sigh as he paused to dip his quill.
“You really don’t have much luck with women, do you, de León?”
Rage darkening his one bloodshot eye, the silversaint was on his feet in a blinking. But two dozen thrallswords moved in reply, swords ringing as they were ripped from scabbards, Dario stepping between Gabriel and his master with fists clenched and heart thundering.
“What’s wrong, Gabriel? Did I hurt your feelings?”
Jean-Francois smiled, glancing to the men bristling about them.
“Try,” he said softly. “Just try.”
Chocolat eyes drifted across the river, meeting a gaze darker still. Celene watched the historian from the opposite bank, loathing drawn in her every line and curve—save perhaps her lips, curled ever so slight to see her brother so utterly unmanned.
“I’m sure you were heartbroken at á Dúnnsair’s death, Mlle Castia.”
Jean-Francois could see Gabriel bristling from the corner of his eyes. But savoring that delicious rage and ignoring the rest completely, he kept his gaze on the Liathe.
“She was a brave warrior,” Celene replied. “A good woman. We did not hold the fleshwitch close in our heart. But we’d no wish to see her die.”
“Yet she did,” the silversaint snarled. “And you did nothing to help, you selfish cunt.”
Jean-Francois continued to ignore his other subject, focused now on Celene.
“He speaks in haste, perhaps. And rather more crudely than necessary. But he does raise a valid point, Mlle Castia. Where exactly were you during all this? You had found the Forever King, oui, but your so-called friends could have used you on the bridge?”
“To die with them?” Celene shook her head.
“A heroic end was not my goal, Marquis. My faith had been shattered. My road to salvation in ashes. The last thing I wanted was to fall into the hell I’d spent eighteen years avoiding.
But oui, folk I cared for were trapped on that span.
Endless Legion around them. City sealed behind them.
The former was a problem I could not solve alone. But the latter?”
“The gates,” Jean-Francois said.
“Oui.”
“But to open them was to open Rive C?ur to attack. You might save your friends, but you’d be inviting the Endless Legion into the heart of Augustin.”
“I had done terrible things already, Historian. Liar. Traitor. Killer. Looking down at the death coming for my friends, I knew these were all titles I’d earned.
But if folk were bound to see me for a monster anyway, what matter one more monstrous deed?
God knows, people I cared for were scarce enough without letting the few I did have die. ”
Gabriel scoffed, sinking into his seat as Celene continued.
“We flew across the frozen river, the sea of Dead, toward the towering gatehouse of the C?ur.
And on the frozen battlements, we coalesced.
Soldiers in Augustin gold cried warning, unsure if we were friend or foe.
Cannons barked, horns rang, the stink of burned meat and blood in our lungs as we charged along the ramparts.
We could hear Dior pounding yet upon the gate below, roaring for someone to open them.
“‘Hold on, mon amie,’ we whispered.
“Knights in fullplate and tabards of the royal house stood outside the gatetower ahead. They bellowed warning, ‘Halt in the name of the—’ but I was already gone, the body they lunged for splashing to the stones as we coalesced on the other side of the door.
“Soldiers turned, eyes wide, hands to their swords. Two score of knights stood the guard, along with six battlepriests of the Inquisition and High Inquisitrix Maya herself. They roared warning, bellowing scripture as they raised the silver wheels about their necks. I felt silvershot tear my body, holy light scorch my skin, eyes burned near to blinding. But I had seen it; a great lever and chain and wheel in the room’s heart.
“And heedless of the pain, I lunged.
“Blessed blades pierced my body. Holy fire tore my skin. The lever itself was pure silver—no fools, these men who’d fought the Dead for years.
Bloody tears spilling from blinded eyes, I seized hold, screaming as the metal burned my fingers to cinders, and yet, kicking the heavy jamb keeping the great mechanism locked, I pulled.
“For my brother.
“For my friend.
“For whatever was left of my cursed soul, I pulled.
“The lever moved, falling into place with a hollow CLUNK.
The floor rumbled and chains sang, each link as heavy as a man, biting into cogs big as wagons.
Soldiers fell upon me, hacking and cleaving, my eyes burned almost sightless, my hands charred to twigs, the inquisitors damning my soul to hell as the Inquisitrix bellowed at the top of her lungs.
“‘Monster, what have you DONE?’
“With a last gasp, I wrenched the lever until it snapped, threw myself across the room and through the window bars, bursting apart as I fell. Pieces of me flung in all directions, some ablaze, some in ashes, all in pain. But enough was left to look down and see the answer to Maya’s question.
“The mighty gate into Rive C?ur was rising.
“The Heart of Augustin was wide open.
“And death was flooding inside.”