NINTEEN
Ace
"Do not call me that!" Ace’s shout echoed through the room.
Now it was Farah's turn to jump. Her hand dropped back to her side, her lips still parted and frozen in a perfect 'O' as she stared at her in shock.
"That's not my name anymore." Ace lifted the sword and Farah's gaze followed it as if she'd just noticed the weapon. Images were flashing behind her eyelids with every blink. She could feel the rain on her skin, the wind that had blown her hair, and that terror of the unknown that she'd felt the day she died. Ace could remember Farah's face and the way she'd frowned at Idalia and hugged Ambrose close when they reached the valley.
"This isn't real," Farah said slowly. "You're not real."
"You wish I wasn't real," Ace snarled, stepping closer to her sister. "So I couldn't come back to haunt you. So that you wouldn't have to own the fact that you were such a horrid sister. Who sacrifices their own family?"
"Sister?" Rehan repeated and was promptly ignored.
"Someone who wants revenge. Someone who wants power that could save an entire country from those terrible creatures that killed our parents." Farah reached her hand back up and laid it on Ace's cheek. Her thumb stroked across her cheekbone, then down the side of her throat, those long skinny fingers teasing at the scar on her neck.
Ace's entire body sparked, the holy fire no longer hard to hold onto but pushing against her skin, begging to be released to its fullest potential.
The queen's hand wrapped around Ace's throat. "We killed you once. I'll be happy to do it again." She squeezed.
Rehan didn't move as Ace struggled to take her next breath. He arched a single brow. "Would you like to do the honors or shall I?"
"You're. A. Fool." Ace managed to gasp out. She threw her weight into the swing of her arm as she swung the sword.
Farah's other hand curled around her wrist, stopping it from meeting her flesh. The queen wasn't even sweating as she held Ace, the sparks of the sword only inches away from her face. She smiled at Ace. "You're the fool. I've sacrificed more than you to make myself more. To make myself strong."
Light was pouring out from the weapon between them; its glow cast itself across their features. Farah snarled, sending Ace wheeling backward as she shoved her away and reached for the staffs.
The stumble turned into something more the moment Farah picked up those staffs. Wind lifted Ace's hair from her shoulders, tugged at her clothes, picked her up off the ground. Her sword dissolved into nothing as she threw her hands out trying to find anything to take hold of. Her fingers slipped through air.The bittersweet scent of magic stinging her nostrils.
Stone groaned as she slammed into a wall. The pressure in her head doubled, nearly tripled, and those damn little white dots popped up in her vision.
I'm going to die. I'm going to die. Ace's thoughts screamed again and again.
Rehan was running, blades full blaze in his hands. Farah turned her attention on him as Ace slid down the wall. Then Rehan’s swords were gone. His hands tearing at his throat, at invisible hands that pulled the air from his lungs.
Ace's heart pounded in her ears. Thud-unk. She stretched for the holy fire she'd been given, her lips curled. Thud-unk.
Farah was walking toward Rehan. "I don't even know who the fuck you are. Interesting that you and her both look like you should've stayed dead though."
Thud-unk.
Ace got her feet under her. She focused her strength into each step as she dragged herself across the room. Her sisters had turned into monsters. Farah was the monster, not Ace, and not Rehan.Every inch of Ace's skin burned. She took ahold of her sword gifted to her by the gods and shouted. "It isn't his job to kill you. It's mine."
Thud-unk.
Rehan’s body dropped to the floor, his hands catching him with a loud smack. Ace was sprinting now. She didn't know when she broke into a run but she was lunging for Farah. One long arch of her sword came down and sliced what had been Sienna's staff in half. The globe fell to the ground, shattering and sending the cloud inside of it dissolving into the air like a puff of smoke.
Farah was staring at the broken staff and gripping hers with white knuckles. Ace pointed the blade at her throat.
"Why did you do it?" Ace screamed, her voice cracking. "Why me?"
"We had to sacrifice someone we loved to gain power from the gods."
Loved. They couldn't have loved her. If you loved someone you didn't kill them. That was basically the number one rule of loving someone.
"Well, you've pissed them off because I'm here as your punishment."
Farah inhaled, looking down at the sword poised for her throat. "We were each supposed to sacrifice someone. One person per staff. Instead, we found our loophole. You. You were special to all of us, our youngest sister; your death saved three others from the same fate."
"You didn't have to do it at all." Her throat was getting tighter, emotions building in her chest.
The queen slammed her staff against the floor. "Yes, we did. Without it, we couldn't have taken on the Fae. Without your death, we couldn’t have saved Pasia. We couldn't find revenge for our parents. You of all people know how hard it was to lose our parents."
"But I didn't have long to mourn them and I certainly wouldn't have killed any one of you in the name of revenge. Our parents would hate how you've all turned out."
"Too bad we'll never really know, huh?" Farah pursed her lips. She opened her mouth to speak, her staff tilting in Ace's direction but whatever she'd wanted to do, she'd never get to.
Ace moved faster. Her blade plunged deep into Farah's chest, a ragged cry tumbling from her lips. Tears burned at the edge of her eyelids, a single teardrop slipping over her eyelid as she watched her sister fall back and looked down at the gaping hole where her heart was. Rehan was behind Farah, catching her before she could fall.
The sword disappeared in a shower of sparks as Ace let the holy fire go. Her body felt weak. She'd done it. She'd killed. She'd killed her own sister.
Farah's gaze drifted up to Ace as if she couldn't believe that she'd actually done it. Her lips moved like the queen was trying to speak, as if she had final words for her sister. Ace closed her eyes while Rehan lowered the queen to the floor.
"I'm sorry," he said and she wasn't sure if it was aimed at her or the queen. "I'll take care of her king and any lingering issues. Go find your friend."
Shelby .
Ace turned, her boots squeaking against the floor as she took off. She left behind the smell of magic and blood as quickly as she could. Sprinting through the castle halls, Ace didn’t stop to admire the few carefully picked pieces of art or to admire the craft that had been put into the making of the castle interior—specifically the tall columns of marble that a sculptor had no doubt spent hours on. The only thing that slowed the girl with blood on her hands was when she finally ran into a young woman who appeared as quickly as King Zacharias had. He was probably the former king now.
"Where are the dungeons?" Her boots slid over the flooring, threatening to topple her as she grabbed the woman's shoulders.
The servant let out a shout that bounced off the walls and away from them. The collection of linens she held in her hands fell from her grasp and unfolded.
"Where do they keep the prisoners?!" she said louder, rougher. Her voice was still thick with the feeling that came with the confrontation of knowing what she'd just done. Be it in the name of the gods or not.
The woman, more of a girl Ace realized the longer she looked at her, trembled as she pointed a finger to a turn on their left. "Take that hall. Turn right..." she swallowed and repeated, "turn right at the next, follow it to the end, it's the last door." Her trembling fingers came up to touch her lips as she spoke. "I should not be telling you this."
"Last door on the left or right?" Ace shook her, the young woman's blonde curls bouncing around her face. "Left or right?"
"It's the only door. It's the last. You'll know it when you get there, I swear it!"
Maybe it was the way Ace gripped the girl so hard. Maybe it was the frantic fight in her voice. Or maybe it was the flaring spark of orange to pink that kept shifting in Ace's eyes that made the girl so nervous.
Ace didn't wait to find out or bother to ask. She ran. Each breath left a stitch in her side that she ignored. There were no other castle servants out working; Ace had the feeling that Farah didn't keep many anyway. She'd much preferred seclusion even before Ace had died.
She followed the girl’s instructions, her mind envisioning Shelby shoved into a small cell or tied up to some sort of torture device. It fueled her to move faster. After the halls had come and gone Ace could see the last stretch, she could see where the hall came to an end. The girl hadn't lied; there wasn't a left or a right, just a single door, cracked open, at the dead end.
Flinging the door open, Ace was faced with a dark stairwell that curved in its descent. There was the slightest flicker of light that came from somewhere far below. She didn't give herself time to wonder if someone was down there waiting before she was bounding down the stairs.
At the bottom, his name was already on her lips. "Shelby?" Someone moved, a few faces appearing at the edge of the cells. Desperately, she looked from face to face, none of them streaked with orange. "Shelby?" She bounced from cell to cell, hands gripping damp metal bars and red rust staining her skin.
No one answered. Not even the people waiting to see what might come of the clearly distressed woman who'd stopped to stare at the large puddle of blood in the middle of the floor. Her breathing was becoming erratic.
Whose blood was that? Whose blood was THAT?
She hadn't realized she was screaming the words until a quiet voice came from behind her. "Some man the queen had brought down here. He was tall, dark skinned, and very unconscious." It was a woman with red rimmed eyes and dirt smeared over her cheeks.
"No." Ace shook her head back away. That couldn't be Shelby's blood. He had part of her soul. Would she know if he died? How could she not? "Where else would prisoners be? Where else could he be?"
She wasn't necessarily asking those few people waiting behind bars but she was shouting to anyone who would answer. People, gods, whoever. It didn't fucking matter.
"Some prisoners come and others go. We've been left here. How are we to know where they go?" Someone else said, a man, his voice hoarse in the way that suggested he hadn't spoken in a very long time. "I've seen people stay and die. And I've seen others escorted out."
"A warlock. It was a warlock," Ace said. "He would be wearing bone chains."
"Warlocks don't stay here long," the same man answered.
Ace's heart felt as though it had dropped into her stomach and her stomach, now made of lead, was falling to the floor. He could be gone. He was probably gone. Her eyelashes dampened with tears she didn't want to shed.
How could someone you'd known for such a short period of time become so important? Ace was searching herself for an answer. Shouldn't she be able to walk away from him? Shouldn't she have been able to let him die? Yet she couldn't. She couldn't then and she wouldn't now.
Boots scraped against stone, someone coming down the stairs as quickly as Ace herself had come. Ace spun around then stood still, watching the stairwell, ready to ignite her holy fire. Rehan's face appeared, blood coating his shirt.
"Is he here?" His voice was hopeful.
Ace scrubbed her face, smearing rust and blood over her features. She didn’t care. "I don't see him."
"We can keep looking but not for long. Not unless you want to fight the rest of the guard."
A beat of silence passed. Another answer came in a single hand that stretched out and pointed to a skinny door she hadn't even noticed. It was painted an identical shade as the stone, the texture as uneven too.
"Someone was making too much noise. A man in white shackles."
She was already moving. Already at the door before they'd even finished the sentence. The knob twisted, she pulled, the door didn't budge. Ace yanked again, grunting.
"It's fucking locked." Ace banged her palms against the door, pressing her mouth against it too. "Shelby?" Her shout was muffled but she prayed it reached the other side.
Thuds answered hers on the other side. The voice was muted but Ace heard it. "Ace? Oh, my gods! Ace is that you?"
Relief flooded her. She was hitting the door again, trying the handle though the door remained as locked as before. "I'm going to get you out. We're going to get you out."
"Let me." Rehan was there, one of his swords shining between them. Carefully, he slipped the blade into the crack of the door. The sword hissed as it passed through the bolt. He pulled the sword away, the sparks already fading into his skin.
The knob stung as Ace pulled on it this time, heated from the weapon, however the door came open, smacking against the other wall. Shelby tumbled out of the cell, his hands outstretched for Ace. His eyes were sweeping over her, taking in the blood.
"What happened? Are you okay? Whose blood is this?" He was shaking, his clothing soaked through with sweat.
"Shouldn't I be asking you how you are?" She laughed but it sounded more like a sob.
"You've been crying." Shelby tried clearing his throat, his finger chasing over a fresh tear. "Who—"
Rehan made the mistake of moving, of making his presence known. Shelby's jaw set as he spun toward the man. With a roar, Shelby fisted Rehan's shirt in his hands and lifted him off the ground. The toes of Rehan's boots were desperately swinging to find traction against the floor as his body was shoved into the nearest wall.
"What did you do?" Shelby dripped sweat onto Rehan as he hovered over him. His broad chest was heaving with rapid breaths. "I will tear you limb from fucking limb if you hurt her."
"No. No. No." Ace waved her hands frantically. She couldn't get herself between them fast enough. "He's with us."
Rehan smiled, though it was tense. "I'm with you, big guy."
Shelby dropped Rehan with a thunk , taking a large step back. That only gave Ace room to usher herself in so she could climb him like some sort of deranged monkey. As all her weight slammed into his body, Shelby staggered backward.
"What are you doing?" he whispered into the mass of her hair that kept fluffing up into his face.
"It's called a hug, Shelby. In case you didn't know that."
"I—" He paused, his hands gently touching her back. "There isn't time for this."
"You're right," Ace muttered before sliding down the length of him.
"We have to help them before we go," Shelby said looking behind a very quiet Rehan and to the wall of assorted metal objects that each looked scarier than the last.
He brushed past the two of them reaching for a set of keys. Ace and Rehan watched in silence as Shelby walked to the cell and handed the keys to the nearest person.
"We can't stay but when you get out make sure to help the others." He turned back, looking at Rehan wearily before he found Ace again. "You trust him?" She nodded. "The queen's dead I presume?" Ace nodded again.
"And that is precisely why we need to get moving…" Rehan was already inching toward the door. "Come."
Shelby's throat bobbed, but he extended his hand to Ace. "If you're going, I'll go."
"I'm not sure that's a good thing," she breathed.
"Me either."
***
Even people who have been brought back from death are still susceptible to the normal functions of the human body. Holy fire or not. Adrenaline being one of those things. If Ace wasn't paying attention, adrenaline could feel an awful lot like holy fire. Maybe it was the fuel for such.
When the feeling had faded, Ace was left with shaking sweaty hands, weak knees, and a heavy heart. Killing the queens had been what the gods wanted, right? She'd even convinced herself that it was what she wanted too. For the good of Pasia. For revenge on what they'd done to her.
Part of her was sick with regret. Killing Farah was different than killing Sienna. Ace hadn't technically killed Sienna, hadn't seen her face as she recounted all her mistakes leading up to her death. Farah's blood was on her hands.
The city of Saylor was behind them now as Rehan led them out to where he'd stayed, not too far away. Ace believed him—not that she could afford the luxury of not believing him—only because he had become an expert at finding the shadows of Saylor and slipping through the city unnoticed as Ace had when she lived in Maipeg for so long. The three of them stole away through every darkened corner of the city until there was no city left. Rehan's home hadn't been buried in the woods like Shelby's grandmother's. Instead, it was hardly a ten-minute walk once they lost sight of the city through the tree line. It was bigger and grander than Ace expected as she looked up at the two-story brick home.
Rehan's hair had torn from its bindings and now hung to his shoulders. Before opening the door, he wiped his bloody hands across his thighs. The door was opened and Ace and Shelby ushered in. For whatever reason, Ace expected cobwebs and large empty rooms similar to her apartment. That was not the case.
Rehan's home was stocked with furniture, books, and many knick-knacks, all well dusted. Sparkling chandeliers dangled in the center of each room and large rugs lay out on the floors. A large staircase could be seen through the single open door past the front room; Rehan pointed to it.
"Guest rooms are up the stairs. There are several; pick whichever you'd like. My room is down the hall." He swallowed and gave a tight smile. "Welcome to my home."
"Rehan," Ace blinked, "how did you find this place?"
"This was my home before I died." He nodded. "I didn't have a family to share it with yet but it turned out for the better."
Shelby stood silently next to Ace, his arms hanging at his side, eyes panning the room.He cleared his throat, finally giving Rehan a nod before he started through the room and toward the stairs. Ace moved like a ghost after him.
“Ace.” Rehan placed a hand on her before she could get too far. Shelby paused in the doorway but did not turn around. “I’m sorry.”
That was it. Was he sorry that Ace had been killed? That she’d been killed by her sisters? Was he sorry that she now had to kill her own flesh and blood? Or was he sorry that Ace agreed to marry him? Could he sense the way her heart ached for the one man she didn’t think she could ever have?
There were many things to be sorry about, she supposed. All she could offer him was a sad smile before she slipped out of the room. Shelby had already made it up the stairs and into his own room. When she got to the second floor she stood staring at his door.
You should tell him , Mina said softly.
“I can’t.” Ace’s voice cracked. She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip just to feel something other than the swirling abyss of sorrow and terror.
The floorboards creaked under her as she took a step toward the other room. The hardwood under her looked well worn, like perhaps Rehan had grown up here. She could picture the space filled with family members laughing together, reading on the couches in the front room, children bounding up and down these stairs. Rehan was the future the gods had picked for her.
What if he feels the same , Mina encouraged.
The real question was, what if he didn’t? With that thought, Ace turned swiftly and let herself into the other room. It was a smaller bedroom with a single bed that was practically overflowing with throw pillows. Two windows looked out to the treeline and farther to the backyard where a small trickling creek passed.
Ace ran her fingers over the pinstripe wallpaper and eventually the tall mahogany wardrobe where several dresses were hung with care. She didn’t dare touch the fine materials for fear of staining them. Nestled under the clothes were a few pairs of shoes—house slippers and a couple of finer dress shoes.
Not far away a door had been left open that led into a modest washroom. There she peeled her clothes away and scrubbed her skin until the blood was gone and her skin felt overly sensitized. Only then did she let herself touch the clothing. She unfolded a nightdress and pulled it over her head.
Who had it belonged to? A mother? A sister? Someone else?
She stared down at her body, feeling so foreign even to herself that she wanted to scream. Her life wasn’t her own anymore. She was an instrument to the gods. She’d marry Rehan—who she hardly knew anything about—to become a puppet for the Fae.
All this she would do by killing her sisters. She didn’t like to think of them as such anymore. It was so much easier to believe that they were just wicked queens she knew nothing about. After coming face to face with Farah, she couldn’t avoid facing her demons anymore.
Ace turned to stare at the bed. She should sleep, but there was no way she could.
A door opened and closed. Slowly, she shuffled to face her door as floorboards outside creaked. Was it Shelby? Was he coming to her door? Her heart did a small flip in her chest.
Ace couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe as she waited to see if her door would open. Or if maybe he would knock. No, he would definitely knock. Silence stretched on only with her shallow breaths to break it up.
She inhaled sharply as another step was taken. Then the steps retreated to the other end of the hall, Shelby’s door opening and closing once more.
Go , Mina said. Go to him.
If only to appease the need for the two pieces of her soul to be near each other, Ace padded across the room, out her door, across the hall, and hovered with her hand at the door. Knock . She told herself. Do it. Knock and go in.
She pulled her knuckles back, forcing herself to finally knock. The door swung open. Shelby was there, eyes soft, lips pursed. He was clean, in a new pair of pants and a loose white shirt. Ace tried to swallow the lump in her throat but it didn’t budge.
“Can I…” Shelby looked her up and down. Ace felt silly in the frilly nightgown she’d put on. “Can I help you? Are you okay?”
“I don’t think I can sleep. I don’t want to be alone.”
He shifted out of the doorway, wordlessly inviting her inside. Ace stepped into the room—the mirror opposite of hers. He’d already removed the excessive pillows from the bed and they’d been stacked in a large pile under one of his windows. The covers had been turned down, the sheets wrinkled to suggest that he’d been in the bed even if only for a moment. From his room, there was a better view of the creek and in the quiet Ace swore she could hear it flowing.
“Shelby?”
“Yes?”
She couldn’t say it. What exactly was she supposed to say? It would sound stupid. She would sound stupid and Shelby…he’d probably laugh at her. Ace wouldn’t blame him. Then there was the issue of marrying Rehan.
“Never mind.” She mumbled. Her hands busied themselves playing with lace that ran down the side of the nightgown. Slowly, she walked the few feet till she reached the bed and lowered herself onto it.
“Do you want to talk about something?” His voice was still rough and raspy.
“No. Not tonight.” She shook her head noticing how tired Shelby looked. His whole body seemed to slouch, his eyes dark and bloodshot. “Come sleep. Don’t let me keep you up. I’ll be quiet.”
Ace ignored the way the bed bounced when Shelby let himself under the covers. She kept her attention focused on the floor while she attempted to release the tension that riddled her body.
“Come here,” Shelby whispered.
The mattress dipped more as she turned to see him with an arm stretched out toward her. She held his gaze. “What?” she breathed.
“Didn’t you say it was called a hug?” The corner of his mouth lifted. Now her heart was doing damn summersaults in her chest. “Something has you really worked up,” he continued. “I can feel it like a huge knot in my chest. How am I supposed to sleep like this?”
“You’ll probably sleep like a baby if you just shut your mouth.” Ace lowered herself to the bed, letting Shelby throw the blanket over her legs before he pulled her to his chest. Here she could take in his clean scent, feeling his pulse as it carried on, and one thumb traced a line up and down her arm over the fabric of the gown.
“I’m glad to see getting kidnapped and killing a queen hasn’t changed you much.” His lips were moving against her hairline. He was so close that if she moved just right she could align their bodies in the right way. A hand swept down her arm, over her waist, and settled on her thigh. His fingers curled into her leg, pulling her closer. “Being away from you, when I’m carrying part of you, is almost painful,” he admitted.
“Really?”
“Yes. I felt like I was losing my mind, but that’s better now. You’re here again, everything can go back to how it was.” He let out a long sigh. “We can kill the queens. Free the warlocks.”
“Then what?” The question hung in the air without answer.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“I’m happy you’re okay.” She snuggled closer to his chest. She thought about what it would be like to press her lips to the tendons of his throat. Would he let her kiss him? Would he shrug her off and tell her it was a mistake?
“I’m happy you’re okay.” His hand was still on her thigh, his fingers drawing slow circles.
What are we? Ace wanted to scream. This feels like more than friends. This feels like we’re breaking the rules.
“Two queens down. Two more to go,” Ace finally said into the night.
“Mmmm,” Shelby hummed, his chest rising and falling more steadily. “You’re right.” Then his arms were slipping off of her, he was untangling himself from around her.
When the expanse of his back was to her and he was snoring quietly. Ace let herself cry. She cried until there was nothing left, until all her sorrow had turned into bitterness and resolve. Until she swore to herself that she’d let Shelby go. He wasn’t hers to keep and she’d been promised to another.
So in the late hours of the night, the floorboards groaned against her weight as she tiptoed out of his room, across the hall, and into her own room. Her sheets were cold as she peeled the blanket back and lowered herself into the bed. She tried to picture herself with Rehan. He would be the next king and she, his queen. Whether she liked it or not. No matter how she tried the picture never looked quite right in her head. But that was a problem for the future.
Tomorrow’s worries came much sooner. Killing queens was not as easy as it seemed.