Chapter 54
MERYN
The night sky carries a dull glow as Linsfall burns. There are shouts of suffering and children crying. And the Mother Priestess, wrapped tight in bands of shadow, smiles at me with flame reflected in her eyes.
It’s a beautiful smile. A gentle smile. And that alone turns my bones to ice. Then she says, “What more is there to say? King Killian’s armies are on their way. He’ll have the Tear in his possession before long, even if I’ve failed him.”
My magic immediately responds, whipping through my veins. I advance on her. “Is Killian coming? Here?”
Her eyes are wild, her face savage. She starts to laugh, the sound manic and bone-chilling. Stark grabs her by the shoulder and shakes. “Answer your queen!”
“You’re not my queen, usurper!” she crows. “You were never deserving! I won’t tell you a thing!”
I look at her, and all I can see is the human embodiment of all of Killian’s manipulations. I look at her and see him.
I see the way he smiled at me after throwing me into my own dungeons.
My vision goes shadowy at the corners. I don’t even try to stop it. My magic surges. Cut it out, is all I can think. Cut him out.
A dark blade cleaves through her wrists.
The magic moves silently and nearly too quick to see. She gasps and looks down at the stumps where her mangled hands were a moment ago. They’re on the ground now, their withered shapes nearly unrecognizable as hands after the Tear’s burn.
Blood pours down like rain onto the frozen ground.
Then her shock and confusion turn to outright pain.
The Mother Priestess opens her mouth to scream. I hear the sharp intake of her breath, and then I break her neck before she has a chance to voice her suffering.
Her body slumps and slips to the ground. It thuds heavily, her skirts falling in a heap around her as blood still leaks from her wrists.
Stark watches me with steady eyes. I’m too angry to question my own actions or weigh the consequences.
“Do you think she was telling the truth? That an army is on its way?” I ask him.
Stark narrows his eyes, glancing down at the body. “I don’t know. Do you…” He pauses, looking like he’s wrestling with himself, then continues. “Do you have the strength to use your foresight?”
I take several deep breaths. “I don’t know,” I reply, but I move to stand next to Anassa so that I can lean against her side and try. “It should be simple to see what’s coming in the next few hours, at least. That’s not as much of a push.”
Closing my eyes, exhaustion swirls. I have to focus on my foresight magic for nearly a full minute before I fall into the snatches of vision.
I see:
Me and Stark, reuniting with Venna and Noemi, Linsfall burning behind us.
And then—yes, a squadron of Bonded riding hard and arriving at Linsfall. Enemies? Friends? I push further into the vision and see a face: Jonah.
There’s no way to tell exactly how quickly this future will come to pass. In the vision, though, it’s still pitch-black night, and the fires of Linsfall still rage.
Gasping, I pull back from the magic.
I fist my hand in Anassa’s coat, holding on to keep from sagging to the ground.
“She wasn’t lying,” I say, my voice choked with weariness. “Jonah and a squadron of Bonded are on their way here.”
“Too many for us to fight?” Stark’s eyes are lethal.
I hesitate. “We could probably take them, you and I. If we were fresh. But what if some of them aren’t truly our enemies? What if they’re under Killian’s influence? I don’t want to kill any more of our own if we don’t need to.”
Stark’s eyes flash, but he mounts up. “Let’s get back to our companions.”
We find Noemi and Venna helping at the makeshift camp that’s formed outside the ruined Linsfall walls. A few Linsfall residents have begun to warily reenter the city now that the quaking has stopped, but most seem to prefer to wait longer until they’re absolutely sure the danger has passed.
Drawing our friends aside, I quickly explain that we need to get moving, that our enemies are coming here and fast.
“But what about these people?” Noemi responds with a pulse of anxiety.
“Noemi,” Stark scolds for resisting my order. She glares at him, but Ephyse’s ears tuck back as Cratos approaches.
I survey the crowd gathered around us. They’re scared, injured, confused. Their home is in ruins. Burning.
My insides alternate between scalding heat and sickening cold. “I have to believe that Killian’s Bonded won’t hurt them,” I say, communicating over the bonds with the group to avoid the chance of being overheard. “Their battle isn’t with the commoners of Linsfall. He likely wants them on his side.”
Venna hesitates. “You have the last Tear?”
“I do.”
“And… it caused all this?” Venna gestures helplessly around her.
I swallow. “I don’t know for sure. But, yes, I believe so.”
That seems to decide it for her. “We must not let that power fall into enemy hands. We should find somewhere safe to regroup.”
I’m grateful, then, that I’m not the only one who thinks we need to leave—no matter how in need these people are. Venna, a friend with more compassion than me, supports this decision.
“Agreed,” I say. “United with Lucien, we’ll have six Tears on our side. Even with Killian sapping my magic and Alistair’s strength, we should have the power to take him down. Then we can come back here and rebuild. But we should choose the time and place of that fight.”
Stark grudgingly agrees. “We need a plan, not to make a desperate last stand after a long night of tiring ourselves out.”
“Let’s go. Right now,” I order, and the rest of us mount up. We did what we could, but we’re out of time.
We start to fall into traveling formation, but before we can move, a trembling voice calls out from the crowd. “You’re abandoning us, Your Highness?”
My throat closes up, and I can’t so much as turn to seek out the source of the question. The wail of a child shrieks over my skin, rending me open.
“I’m so sorry to leave you like this,” I tell them. There’s no way to know whether my voice carries across the crowd.
Whether any of them will even hear my apology.
I force myself to look at the sea of faces before and behind me, doing everything I can not to remember the faces of the lost, those I’ve sent into the unknown and those taken from me.
“I will never abandon you. I promise. Whether you believe I’m your rightful ruler or that Killian Valtiere is, I have sworn my life to you, the people of Nocturna.
At this moment, I’m being pursued, and the safest thing I can do for you is leave.
As soon as I have troops under my command, we will return to Linsfall to help rebuild.
Until then, I know you can count on one another. ” Then I urge Anassa forward.
There are no more questions as we ride toward the camp where Elias and Lucien wait.
We move at speed in perfect formation. Stark is at my side, leading with me. Noemi rides on my other side for protection. Venna rides behind us, ready to alert us quickly if we’re being followed.
There’s smoke in my lungs as we pound over the frozen dirt. The hilt of my dagger is cold in my grip, radiating pain up my arm.
I’m so wrung out that I don’t know if I could conjure a whisper of magic. But my daggers have never failed me.
We race through the woods and out toward our campsite without incident, our wolves pushing hard to get us away from danger as quickly as they can.
The fire of our camp is visible on the next hill. And then a shiver of awareness draws my attention to our bonds. Venna sensed something.
I don’t have time to fully perceive it before a high-pitched hiss of air touches one of my ears and then the other. Then a thud, a whimper cut short.
Blinding pain ruptures through my connection.
I choke and nearly fall off Anassa; the hand I’m gripping her with has an impulse to snap to my throat, to stop the bleeding.
“Stop!” I scream at Anassa, both aloud and echoing over our bond, and her paws scrape deep grooves in the ground as she fights her momentum.
I whirl around.
Venna’s wolf Skaia is on the ground. A massive arrow is punched clear through her throat.
She’s bleeding so much. She’s—
She’s dying.
And Venna—
She’s on the ground next to Skaia, on her back, hands closed around her throat, writhing in agony.
My heart skips, my vision blurry. For a second, I can only stare at her. Her face and Izabel’s meld in my vision, and it’s both of them in front of me, twisting in pain. Dying. Because of me.
I’m frozen in time, as if everything happening is in the past, a wrenching memory. My mind detaches, fragments.
Noemi has leaped to the ground, racing toward Venna.
“Stop them, Meryn!” she screams, her voice strangled.
“Behind us, Meryn.” Anassa’s voice breaks through my anguish. “At the tree line.”
Anassa wheels around. My eyes struggle, then focus on the edge of the forest to the west. A wall of Killian’s Bonded on wolfback waits there for orders, their wolves’ eyes flashing from the darkness between the trees.
Jonah has stepped out of the shadows. He holds a bow and is swiftly nocking another arrow. I can see his wide smile even from here, his white teeth flashing like fangs.
Another flash hits me, this one born of pure anger.
I will not let him take anyone else from me. I will not.
My shadow power rises, vengeance incarnate. But at the same time, I’m tired, so tired. My body strains tight as a bowstring, tight enough to snap.
“Meryn. It’s too much.” Anassa’s voice tears through my mind.
No. I will not let it break me.
Without giving myself time to doubt the decision, I thrust my hand into the pack at my side, pulling out the Tear that wreaks destruction.
The moment my skin makes contact, power rushes in my veins. My exhaustion is gone. My power surges high. It fills me, rushes through me and into the Tear.
I raise the gem above my head, and once again, that eerie light shines. Like a cold white sunrise.