Chapter 60
Dust to Dust
Wymond was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. The truth was, we were all doused in torch oil, and I was holding the ember ready to burn both our worlds to the ground.
Kaelun’s death broke something in me, and I wasn’t sure if that fracture would ever heal. But if I was going to be forced to watch another one of them die, then I was damn well going to get something out of it.
We held each other’s gaze, silently challenging the other to flinch. The problem for the High Lord was that I wasn’t bluffing—and he knew it.
“This bargain,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “What do you propose?” His words were filled with poorly veiled contempt. If he hated me before that moment, he now loathed the very air I breathed. Which was the only common ground we shared.
I’d already worked out the wording in my mind while we were in our silent battle of wills, but there was one thing I had to confirm.
Shifting my focus to Endymion, I asked, “The magic that binds a bargain, it goes past the laws of magic, right? It will carry out what’s promised even if it’s beyond Wymond’s capabilities as a High Lord? ”
He stared me down for what felt like an eternity, refusing to answer.
“Yes,” Artton finally said from behind Endymion, his voice thick.
“Artton,” Endymion warned.
“You’re her kintoran,” Caius’ second shot back. “You should know by now she’s going to do this whether you want her to or not. You really think it’s a good time to shut your mouth when she’s asking for help? It’s the least we can do for fucking up this bad.”
Endymion’s eyes swam with guilt and resignation as I looked to him for answers. “Artton is right,” he said. “The magic that binds a bargain will carry out what’s been promised. It’s not dependent on either fae’s abilities or powers.”
I nodded in thanks, then re-squared my shoulders to the High Lord.
His honey-brown eyes watched me with cautious curiosity—no doubt hoping I’d make a mistake he could exploit. The words were on my tongue, but my chest constricted, stealing some of my bravado.
I must have played the verbiage in my mind a hundred times, assessing it from every angle I could think of to ensure he couldn’t trap me. My pulse pounded in my head, and I thought I might be sick.
My plan would either save them or doom them.
Be brave.
Kaelun’s final sentiment washed over me, and I finally spoke.
“From this point forth, no harm shall befall Artton, Sidrick, Tarrin, and Endymion—either by you or another under your control or influence, so long as they are in the Autumn Court. We shall honor the same toward you and yours. To ensure my full cooperation, they will remain here until I yield myself fully; at which time they shall be sent back to Caius’ study in Summer Court the instant I have fulfilled my side of this bargain. Kaelun’s ashes shall also be returned.”
“No!” The word was a chorus from my companions. I ignored them. This was the only way. And gods help me, I hoped they’d forgive me for it.
“Not Endymion,” Wymond countered.
“Or Tarrin,” Thaddeus chimed in.
“I think you misunderstand me,” I said, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. “This is not a negotiation.”
The king moved toward me with murder in his eyes, but the High Lord put out an arm, stopping him.
Wymond took my measure, and I could tell he was replaying the proposed bargain, looking for any loopholes or trickery that either of us could exploit. The truth was, it was a fair deal.
“And what will become of you after this?” he asked.
“We both know I’ll be dead.” The brutal truth seemed to surprise him. Not because he hadn’t known, but because I did—and had asked for the bargain anyway. A bargain that didn’t save me.
I could have sworn something like respect crossed his features before he said, “I accept the terms of your bargain as stated.”
Murmurs echoed in the Great Hall, and I gasped as a searing pain burned on the inner side of my right wrist. Looking down, I watched the bargain’s mark spread across the width of my wrist. It was strange and not at all what I expected.
I traced the delicate lines that reminded me so much of the veins in that leaf I’d picked up—maple, if memory served me right.
Only, there was no silhouette. Just the veins in the stunning colors of my own magic.
Had I been marked for any other reason, I might have found it beautiful.
Movement pulled my attention as Wymond walked to the soldier holding Endymion’s golden sword.
My heart hammered in my chest as I watched, suddenly afraid that I’d missed something, that he’d murder them out of spite, despite our bargain.
Walking back to where I stood, he swung the sword in a lethal arch.
I ducked, instinctively covering my head with my arms.
Had I miscalculated? Didn’t he need me alive for the spark? Had I just killed us all?
A soft thunk sounded, and I looked toward it, instantly regretting it. Bile rose, and I almost heaved when I was met with King Thaddeus Artimus Alton the Third’s blue-gray eyes staring at me from his severed head—his lifeless features frozen with shock.
I chanced a glance at Endymion, who looked just as surprised.
A sound of raw, visceral anger filled the hall, and I looked over my shoulder to find Nevander pulling his sword and charging.
And then, he screamed.
His sword dropped to the ground with a loud clatter as it skittered along the wide wooden slats, leaving scars along it as it did. I shifted my focus to Wymond and realized whatever was happening to Nevander, it wasn’t him.
Looking back, I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth.
Thaddeus’ commander was… aging at an exponential rate.
His momentum moved him forward as he aged.
Mercifully, the light in his eyes went out before he began to dematerialize from the ground up as he fell forward, no longer supported by legs.
It was like watching a tree fall in the forest, but there was no sound as the soft cascade of his body fell, turning to dust before he finally hit the ground.
I blinked as his ashes spread out wide from the impact.
“The link,” I breathed. Panic filled me as I whipped my attention to Tarrin. His mouth was agape in horror as his eyes met mine. He nodded once, letting me know he was fine. That he was, indeed, free from Thaddeus.
“That was… unexpected,” Wymond mused.
I was speechless as I looked at him, then back down to Thaddeus.
I yelped, jumping back. The blond man with sharp features and silvery eyes was no more.
His skin had turned to a darkened leather, cheeks sallow, eyes…
gone. Wymond waved a hand, and magical roots slid up through the wooden planks, wrapping themselves around his body until I could no longer see him.
Then, they pulled him back down to the earth. To the Mother.
Thaddeus was gone.
“He was your ally,” I said, voice rough.
Wymond shrugged and pinned me with his golden-brown eyes. “I’d made a deal with him, but I’d made a bargain with you. A bargain that didn’t involve him in any way, I might add.”
He was right. When I’d said I yield myself fully to you, I hadn’t meant Thaddeus, and Wymond had taken advantage of that. I swallowed, suddenly terrified that there was something else I’d missed.
“Now, Nyleeria, if it’s all the same to you, I want this over with.
It’s been a long day.” He held out the sword to his side, the blade still dripping with Thaddeus’ blood.
A soldier hurried to collect it and stepped back to where they came from.
Wymond held out a hand for me, but I ignored it, following him to the center of the room on my own.
My back faced the wall of shields we’d mistaken for glass, the High Lord standing before me.
To my right about ten paces was Endymion with the others another five behind him.
They all gave me varying looks of anger, resolution, and most of all, fear.
A tear slipped free as I looked down to all that remained of Kaelun.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, too,” I whispered, “but I’ll see you on the flip side, soon. ”
Endymion called for me, begging for me to stop as he railed against his magical restraints trying to reach me.
I couldn’t look at him. Not yet. The agony pulsing through our connection already taxed my resolve, and I had to drown it out if I wanted them to get out of this alive.
Slowly, Wymond unclipped his leather vest and let it drop to the floor before pulling his base layer over his head and letting it fall.
I was vaguely aware of the lean muscles that stood out against his russet skin, and not for the first time I wondered how much his beautifully soft coloring was at such odds with the black soul that resided within it.
The sun had finally broken through the clouds—no doubt due to Wymond’s feeling of inevitable triumph.
I tilted my head up to the heavens and let the sun wash over me one last time.
When I open my eyes, I realized I’d been right.
The colors of the stained-glass ceiling did cascade onto the mahogany ground like discarded leaves.
The warm, rustic hues gave the grand space an ethereal quality to it.
Something about it soothed me, as if the stars themselves rested a warm hand upon my shoulder.
“You remember how it’s done?” Wymond asked.
“It’s not something you forget,” I said dryly, turning my focus to him.
“You must yield fully.”
“I know, Wymond. They were my terms.”
He looked at me, and it was the first time I’d ever seen him unsure. “Okay, then,” he finally said and slowly turned his back to me as if waiting for me to attack him. Gods was it tempting, and while I had every reason to end him, there were bigger reasons not to.
I took a moment, looking to Tarrin. Then Sidrick.
Then Artton. Their grief-stricken faces stared back at me, silently begging for me to change my mind.
I wouldn’t. Not if it meant saving them.
My fate had already been written. I looked past their anguish, smiling as I saw memories with them flash through my mind.
Tears blurred my vision, and I blinked them away, wanting to see them clearly as I said my silent goodbyes.
I saw Tarrin teasing me as we picked berries.
“What is this? The two for me, one for you policy?” he asked, amused.
I grabbed another plump raspberry and popped it into my mouth. As I was chewing, I said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s more like the five for me, one for you rule. See?” I asked, dramatically placing the tiniest raspberry I could find in the bowl.
“Your generosity is truly unmatched, lady.”
Then, it was Sidrick and Kaelun at the lake.
“Did you know my brother knew you were the spark before anyone else?” Kaelun declared.
“Is that true?” I asked, looking to Sidrick.
“It is. I knew the second I laid eyes on you in the king’s receiving room before Artton and I valenned the three of you to the solstice.”
“How?” I said, astonished.
“My magic. When it’s around you, I feel…”
“Whole,” Kaelun finished for his brother.
Sidrick leaned forward slightly to look at his brother. “Yeah. You’re right. I’ve struggled to find the right word. But whole describes it perfectly. Even more so, now that you’re fae.”
“That’s how I feel when I’m connected to the Mother,” I mused.
“I wonder if you feel that way with the Mother and we feel that way with you because our powers were never supposed to be separate,” Sidrick said.
Then, Artton. Gods, the winding road we’d taken to become friends—possibly family.
“Impressive,” Artton said. “Endymion claimed you were good, but I rather think he downplayed your skills.”
“Careful, Artton. That sounded an awful lot like a compliment.”
Wymond began the incantation, and I knew my time was running out.
My gaze fell to Endymion’s, and I nearly crumbled from the sorrow coursing through our strengthened kintor.
“No, Little Star,” he’d said. “From the first moment I laid eyes upon you.”
As I stared into his soul—the one bound to mine—wishing more than anything that love alone would be enough to save me from this fate. Alas, that’s not how it worked. The best I could wish for now was for him to move on. To find love elsewhere. To survive my death.
My powers began to stir in response to Wymond’s spell.
It was time.
Focusing forward, I placed a palm on his back and willed my magic to stay put. Then, raising my other hand, I locked eyes with Endymion.
I’m sorry, I mouthed.
With a deft hand, I slid out the hidden dagger my kintoran had armed me with, then slammed it into my heart.