Chapter 46 Romie
THE VESSEL KEPT SCREAMING, DEEP in the recesses of her own mind, but Atheia was getting good at ignoring her. She wouldn’t make the mistake of allowing Romie to share space with her anymore, not when she was so close to achieving her goal.
As her feet led her past the part of the Institute where dissident lunar mages were held—where Emory’s friends were to be bled of their magic—Atheia stopped at a narrow window where a handful of Regulators were stationed, whispering to themselves at whatever they were watching outside.
One of them saw her and beckoned her over.
“There’s a—a dragon out there.”
The Regulators parted to let her through. Outside, dawn was lightening the skies, making the pockets of sleepscape more evident. A magnificent dragon flew low over the woods that bordered the Institute.
“Should we do something about it?” asked a Regulator.
“No,” Atheia breathed. “Leave it be.”
Dragons were creatures of the Forger—her creations. The sight of it now brought a tear to her eyes, a fond smile to her lips, and a renewed sense of purpose as she wound her way through the prison.
There was one other stop she had to make before getting to work on drawing Emory’s blood.
“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of seeing you on your knees, Sidraeus.”
He glared up at her, hands bound behind his back, damper collar stark on his neck. Atheia ran a finger along one of the spiral runes on his collarbone, delighting in the way he shuddered and jerked away at her touch. Her smile grew.
“This place must be torture for you, in such proximity to so many Eclipse-born experiencing pain both physical and mental. Did you know I managed to capture a corvus serpentes? Now that the worlds are combined, I look forward to hunting down other creatures born of your magic to see how hurting them affects you. What’s the one that’s considered the Night Bringer’s emblematic beast?
Ah yes, the panthera noctua. Maybe I’ll go after every single version of your abominations, one of each world.
If I’m to save the realms by ridding them of all traces of Eclipse magic, none of them should be spared. ”
Sidraeus’s silence—forced onto him by compulsion magic—was delectable. “What, nothing to say?” Atheia teased, finally lifting the Glamour.
His throat worked as if testing out his ability to speak. “Why don’t you just end it?” he said roughly. “Do what it is you’ve been longing to do and kill me already.”
“You saw what happened when I tried.” The memory still infuriated her, how something had prevented her from ending his life back at Aldryn. “It seems we cannot kill each other.”
“Then get someone else to do it.”
“Oh no. I’ve decided that would be far too easy for you.”
“You want every trace of my magic gone, so end me and see if it erases all of it. See if it does anything to save your precious worlds. I’d wager it doesn’t, but if you promise to let Emory go, I’ll accept the risk.
” He squared his shoulders, as if ready for the deadly blow they both knew Atheia couldn’t give him. “Go on. Take what it is you want.”
Atheia’s blood boiled. “You have no idea what I want,” she hissed. “I want you to admit you were wrong back then. I want you to take responsibility for what happened. I want an apology.”
Sidraeus laughed. “Then I’m afraid you’ll never get what you want, Atheia. Because I want the same things from you, but I at least know it’s a lost cause.”
The fury inside Atheia became a hurricane. “I’m going to make you regret ever stepping foot in the realms of the living.”
She stormed out of the room before he could see the tears in her eyes. She wiped them away furiously, at war with these feelings inside her. The hurt she hadn’t fully acknowledged yet, the heartbreak that echoed from over a millennium ago. She wanted none of it.
So she would break him before it broke her.