Chapter Forty-Seven Abel #2
I sprint for the cavern’s mouth. Claire resumes her chase. Shouts in the Old Tongue and Common Tongue rise urgently behind me. The Immortals reorganize into two groups that I can see: one coming for Claire and one for me. Both groups ignore the Gendarmerie.
Two more Immortals step in front of me, a sword and a sickle raised, respectively.
These are Claire’s would-be slayers.
That thought fuels my first strike with pure brutality.
I know how they’ll attack. I am them. They are me.
I parry one with a force that sends him tripping backward into the cavern.
The fall impales him on a stalagmite with a gurgling gasp.
My next swing is wide. It hacks off the other Immortal’s sickle-holding hand at the wrist. Blood sprays the rock.
I drive my sword into her heart. The strike is so forceful, the blade gets stuck in her rib cage.
Before Claire can catch up to me, I try to yank the sword out of my victim.
It snags. Blinding pain flares up my shoulder and speckles my sight with black dots.
I hear the muscles rip inside me as much as I feel them.
My arm shakes from the pain, immobile. Useless. Too weak to dislodge the heavy sword. The ground quakes under my feet—Claire is closing in. Empty-handed, I race past the threshold, where sunslight meets shadow.
“Abel, run!” Lyle screams.
Crack.
A bolt rips through my calf. I stumble.
Crack.
A second bolt punctures my stomach like the sickle that pierced through Hanna.
The force knocks me into a stalagmite. My one useful arm wraps around it for balance. Lucy emerges from her hiding place near Noctu’s cage, ears perked toward me.
“Stay!” I shout, voice hoarse, startling her into hiding.
I pay for the command dearly. The bolt in my gut shifts and spills blood, which spatters between my boots. The pain tilts the ground out from under me. I collapse on my side.
Claire roars louder than ever. The stalagmites tremble.
Noctu approaches the cell bars, chains pulling taut. His celestial eyes watch her approach. His voice reverberates through the cavern as if traversing beyond the mortal realm.
“Brother, I’m here!”
“Arrêtez!” an Immortal screams. Stop!
The cavern floods with fire. Eyes clenched shut, I scream in agony as scalding heat invades the tears in my armor, raking up my side and searing my nostrils and throat.
Tendrils lick past Micah’s teeth and boil my face until it’s black and blistered and I’m certain even my eyelashes have gone up in flames.
I don’t know how long it lasts. Seconds. Minutes. Time is a foreign object.
Everything goes cold.
Quiet.
The blurred shape of the cavern comes into focus. Wisps of smoke drift to the ceiling and curl around the stalactites. Embers sputter out.
Noctu’s cell is a melted mess. His chains lie warped in a pile of ash.
The only remnants of him left.
Claire growls, eyelids drooping. Her head bows and her body lowers to the ground, like a docile hunting hound.
In a rush of steam, her scales, wings, and tail begin to dissolve.
Eventually, her human shape emerges from the shroud.
She lies on the stone, asleep. Naked and woundless, save her original scar.
I can’t trust that she’s free of the curse just yet. Not until I see proof of life.
I hold my breath.
Claire takes one of her own.
“Abby, look!” Lyle shouts.
Only my eyes move as I shift my attention to him.
The gendarmes tense, weapons raised at the screaming prisoners they’ve bound with rope.
All at once, the Immortals rip away their masks, then claw at their black-veined faces.
Eyes sink into their skulls. Cheeks cave in.
Knees buckle. Finally, they burst into clouds of dust. One by one, their cloaks flutter into the snow, as if they never held a body at all.
Relief breaks me—then the pain rushes in. Each breath shifts the bolt in my stomach and makes me shudder. Every inch of my body trembles and stings. I barely feel the lingering flames.
“Lucy,” I croak. Her name comes out garbled, but she knows what to do. She licks the embers from my clothes.
I’m no fool. I’m dying.
Knowing I saved the girl I love should satisfy me, but it doesn’t. Waking alone to the sight of a dead loved one is her greatest fear. And she will think she is responsible.
A rustle fills the quiet.
Lucy gekkers excitedly at Noctu’s cell. With a blinding, pulsing glow, his ashes swirl and coalesce to reshape his previous form, this time unbound outside the cell’s remains.
He approaches Claire with a blanket made of silverwolf pelts, as if he’s returned to the mortal realm just to gift it to her.
It unfurls with a glimmer that disappears by the time the silver fur settles over her.
He places a hand on her head. “Thank you, Claire Belgard.”
Something about his gratitude feels unfair. Too small. It’s not enough. Not after everything Diu stole from Claire—and from me.
Maybe Noctu is angry with us.
He might leave me to die.
Somehow, I drag my left hand out from under me and draw a dagger.
The burns on my fingers flare, hot and raw. Good. If I can feel pain, I have enough of my mind left to fight. My arm dips and bobs as I try to lift my weapon. To draw that precious water of life and maybe—maybe—heal myself.
Darkness invades the edges of my vision. My breath comes in pitiful gasps. Noctu glances at me, eyebrows raised, as if he didn’t think I would survive.
“Don’t move,” I sputter through gritted teeth. “Don’t leave.”
Noctu approaches me. I close one eye and aim the trembling dagger.
My heart pounds from the effort. My lungs strain against me.
I’m fading. I need eau de vie. Noctu kneels beside me and slips the dagger from my grip.
The black of his starlight eyes reflects the burns on my face.
I close my eyes as my vision blurs anew.
Sometimes, trying isn’t enough.
The wet sound of a blade slicing flesh crosses my ears. My eyes snap open. Noctu rolls me onto my back, removes my helmet, and tilts my chin up. The tang of blood touches my tongue. The sudden overflow forces me to swallow.
An ice-cold sensation floods my veins.
“I told you, Abel Estellio. I am not your enemy.” Noctu holds his bleeding wrist above my lips. “All you had to do was ask.”