45. Diar
Diar
Nazumi’s glass platforms rang under my steps like eerie chimes. Frigid ice hummed against my palms. Siotha yearned for the Solheart’s blood.
I flew around a corner onto a narrow platform. Trees rose from the lake around it, surrounding the walkway and covering the sky with a roof of their leaves. My quarry waited for me ahead, unmoving.
Skidding to a stop, I held up my daggers defensively. Alistair raised his blade and free hand in a show of peace.
“You’re not the kind of woman to let a man go.” He took a step toward me. “So let’s make a deal.”
“I’m not interested,” I spat.
“Didn’t you want information? About me, about the man who killed your brother?” Alistair took another step closer. “Help me tonight—and I’ll tell you everything.”
Lowering my daggers, I considered his offer. Having him spill the truth willingly would be easier than torturing it out of him.
“I thought you wanted me dead,” I said. “Now you want my help?”
“Those men nearly killed Ferris. And he’s one of ours.” Alistair spun his sword idly. “An eye for an eye—you should want revenge, too.”
“ . . . who sent them?”
“The good commander, who else?” Alistair leaned against one of the trees. The wind tousled his silver-gold hair. “He tried to kill a Paragon—and wounded a foreign prince in the making. You’re well within your rights to seek his punishment.”
My hand tightened around Siotha, remembering the blood seeping from Ferris’ mouth.
“I see what Quinn sees now—why he wanted you to have that bow. You're relentless. Determined. Unflappable,” Alistair said. “Help me send a message—and everything I know is yours.”
“And I can trust you won’t run away?”
“You have my word.” He pressed a hand to his chest and lowered his head.
Grinding my teeth together, I stalked past Alistair, staring at the city beyond the boughs. If I wanted this—this bow, this title, this freedom—I’d have to fight tooth and nail for it.
Following the law of the land had gotten me nowhere. It had been written to restrain me, crafted to control me.
I touched my necklace, running my fingers across the cold bloodstones hanging from its cord. Those who dismissed me, who tried to kill me?
I’d add them to the ranks of the dead.
“Where is he?” I asked, spinning around.
Alistair pulled his hood up. “Right this way, lady Paragon.” He darted past me, and I gave chase.
A cold wind blew through my hair as I ran through the city. I had one thought driving me, and had abandoned doubt.
‘You pick an objective and run straight toward it,’ Akemi whispered in my memories. ‘It's going to get you killed one day.’
Alistair stopped and dropped to a crouch behind a tree. I joined him, peering around its trunk.
The platforms were broad here, with winding paths leading to manors. Alistair stared up at the largest building, one that reminded me of home—the manor of a general.
Three-tiered roofs cast shadows over the dark wooden building. A tight path wrapped around its perimeter, and waterborne plants grew in abundance from the surrounding lake, granting it privacy from the rest of the world.
Iron gates wrapped the platform the manor sat on, and I saw a guard walk past the entrance, patrolling.
“Ready?” Alistair breathed.
“If you promise not to be subtle.”
“That, I can do,” Alistair rose and stalked toward the gates.
He raised a hand, and the radiant sword flew over his shoulder, slamming into the gates. The padlock cracked under its force. With a kick, Alistair shattered what remained, and the gate swung open.
Rising from my hiding place, I dashed through after the Solheart. The guard I’d seen patrolling rounded the bend as I flew through the gate. Seeing intruders, he reached for his spear and shouted.
Lunging toward him, I slammed my boot into his shin. He lost balance, exposing his weak point. Hooking one dagger beneath his arm, I raked the other across his neck.
Blood soaked the icy blades. The guard slumped to the ground.
A strangled gasp drew my attention back to Alistair. His steel blade had punctured a second guard’s gut. Yanking his blade out, Alistair kicked the man to the ground.
Turning toward the manor’s grand entrance, he flicked a hand. Powerful winds gathered on the porch, churning into a tornado.
The windows shattered with a high-pitched shriek. The door was torn from its hinges and broken into pieces.
With another flick of his wrist, Alistair dismissed the wind, and the tornado burst apart. Mind blank, breath steady, I ascended the steps and strode through the broken door.
I felt like I’d stepped into my old home. The layout was even the same—a sweeping staircase ascended to the second floor; a balcony overlooked the foyer where a simple iron chandelier glowed with quiet candles.
A man tore down the upstairs hall and braced his hands on the banister, looking down into the destroyed foyer.
Sejiro. The fine orange robes he’d worn earlier hung loosely around his shoulders. He’d been sleeping.
Ferris might be dying—and his killer had been sleeping.
“I’ll handle the rabble,” Alistair hissed. “Get him.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I flew up the stairs—and heard my target scramble to escape.
The orange robes disappeared through a door at the end of the hall as I reached the top step. Twirling Siotha, I let it reforge into a bow. Pulling an arrow loose from its spectral quiver, I knocked it to the string and drew it back.
The arrow flew off course, striking the wall beside the door. It ruptured into a thousand ice shards, tearing chunks from the wood.
I still had no patience for the bow.
Snapping it in half, I threw one dagger forward. A deluge erupted from the tip of the blade, surging down the hall. It grew into a powerful wave, crashing into the door and knocking it off its hinges.
Sloshing through the water, I shoved through the door into a lavish bedroom. A woman in a nightgown hid behind the canopied bed. She screamed.
I ignored her. Women in this country had been taught to be useless, so they would never realize just what they could do.
The commander pulled a blade from a sheath on the wall and charged me. Dropping my daggers, I drew my blade and met him.
Our swords clashed, and I could see from his stance, from the force of his strike, that he was good.
But I wasn’t playing fair.
A radiant blade whipped over my head and slashed at the general. He backed up, blocking the flurry of strikes the magicked blade threw at him. Alistair ducked through the door behind me, circling to the commander’s back.
It was over quickly. With three blades flying at him, Sejiro couldn’t block them all. I slashed at his legs, drawing blood. He fell, and I slammed my knee into his chest, knocking him to the ground.
I leveled my blade at his throat. “Bold,” I spat. “To think you could get away with murder—when the Archdruid planned to accept me.”
“You were a threat.” His voice was hoarse. “With ties to the enemy. The guards were merely doing their job.”
“Ah.” Alistair twisted his hand, and his radiant blade flew toward the man’s wife, pinning her to the wall. “A cute little fabricated lie: claim Diar attacked, and you defended yourself. Sounds like something I would do.”
“Clearly,” Sejiro seethed. “It was not a lie.”
I stood here, in the company of a traitor. With one of the men who’d partaken in the Emperor’s death.
Maybe the commander wasn’t wrong to judge me, but . . .
“You might have killed Aenir’s prince,” I said. “As a Paragon, I have the right to judge you.”
The commander’s eyes flared. He must not have intended for Ferris to be in my room.
Lifting my blade, I moved to drag it across the man’s throat.
Something wrapped around my wrists—it felt almost like silk, but it tugged on me with surprising power. Taken off guard, I stumbled backward, nearly losing my grip on my blade.
The floor beneath my feet splintered and cracked. Stone overtook the wood, encasing the bedroom in rock—covering every wall and door. Pillars burst up from the floor and twisted into the shape of earthen hands, grabbing everyone in the room.
Alistair’s radiant blade vanished as he was yanked back and restrained against the wall. The wife screamed as she was shackled, and Sejiro merely glared at me as his hands were bound behind his back.
Stone rose from the floor, locking around my ankles. I tried to tear my foot free, but only managed to stumble onto my knees.
Paragon Agendra marched into the room, eyes ablaze with fury. Where he strode, the stone pulsed, like it sang to an imaginary beat.
Teeth grinding together, Agendra seemed to be fighting with himself to dispel the rage.
Slowly, the earth beneath him quieted.
“What,” he demanded. “Is going on here?”
“This madwoman,” Sejiro hissed. “Is—”
“Did you order that attack?” Agendra asked, voice calming.
Sejiro hesitated to answer. It was an answer in itself.
The stone surrounding Agendra erupted. Splinters and pillars shot out from him in every direction, varying in shape and size. A few whizzed past my head, but I heard the crunch of bone as one connected with the commander. He hissed in pain, grabbing at his broken ribs.
When I looked back at the Paragon, his face was scrunched, as though in pain. The floor pulsed beneath his feet.
Swallowing, Agendra breathed out, calming. The floor quieted.
I stared at him, stunned.
Could he not control his own magic?
“One day,” Agendra said. “I asked for one day, and you could not wait even that long. And now.” He knelt beside the commander. “You’ve nearly killed a prince.”
A hand touched my arm. I whirled around.
Ferris dropped to his knees beside me. Blood ran in a line from the corner of his mouth, and his shirt was stained red. His voice was strained. “Are you okay?” He breathed, barely audible.
Agendra glanced back at us, lips tightening into a line. I couldn’t read people well, but I could guess that the Paragon had tried to stop Ferris from following him.
And failed.
Ferris shot to his feet, hand pressed to his side. Lord Ishida burst through the door, dressed in his shatterblade armor, prepared for battle. He glanced between us all and drew his blade.
It made it halfway out of its sheath before rock burst from the ground and encased the weapon.
"You," Ferris spat. "You played nice, offering tea and pleasantries to lower our guards. Were you hoping to poison us?"
Ishida glared at Ferris with a familiar expression—the same he often gave me. Irritation. Indignation.
"You accuse me?" He spat, trying to wrest his blade free from Agendra's spell. "When you've broken into the commander's manor and assaulted him?"
"He attacked me," Ferris snapped. "So now he owes quite a fucking bit to my father."
I grabbed Ferris' hand, trying to wrest him back down before he got himself killed.
Memories flashed between us—another rethaite. I saw the ashen curls of a willowy woman, graceful and lithe. She tucked herself into a corner, sobbing. The skirt of her dress was torn.
She looked up and wiped the tears away, offering me a smile.
The freckles pooling in her dimples looked so much like Ferris'. Was this his real mother?
The memories snapped—and I knew what Ferris had seen, for the memories swirled in my mind, fresh.
Ishida brushing my leg, beneath the table, at all of Father's dinners. Mother warning me to hold my tongue and do as he said, the night of our engagement. The night I'd run away.
Did I subconsciously want Ferris to understand? Did I want someone else to know what I'd been through—to know I existed?
Snarling, Ferris thrust his palm forward. The emerald dragon erupted from his fingertips and rammed into Ishida, fracturing the stone pillar encasing his sword.
The lord I'd been meant to marry slammed into the broken door and slid to the ground.
"Enough," Agendra's voice boomed, bouncing off his earthen walls. “Diar,” he said quietly. “Did you come here to send a message?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Then, let it be sent.” Agendra turned back to Sejiro and stood. “You could not kill her because she is better than you. The Paragons are the best of us. Let the next fool try to fell one.”
The commander gritted his teeth, but said nothing. Breath hissed through his teeth, strained.
Agendra palmed his hammer as he regarded Alistair.
“Wait,” I called. “I need that one alive. Leave him.”
The Paragon stared at the Solheart for a long moment. Sheathing his hammer, he strode past me. “Get up. We need to go.”
The stone locking me in place crumbled away. Rising, I crossed the stone-encased room and looked down at Sejiro. My eyes fell to the blood streaming from the gash on his leg. Swiping a finger across the wound, I gathered a bead of blood on my finger.
Cold wind whistled through the air, and the blood froze. Stringing the bead onto my necklace, I returned to Ferris’ side.
“You need a healer,” I said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. I glared at Alistair. “And I need answers.”
Alistair rolled his shoulder, where the stone had restrained him. The corner of his mouth twisted up. “I gave you my word. And Sun Chasers always honor their word.”