46. Chapter 46
Chapter 46
Viola
I t's quiet.
Every citizen of Rainworth is silent and still as I stand before them, demanding they make this decision before they witness what I am here to do today.
The minutes tick by, and no one moves.
It's almost as if no one breathes for worry that if they so much as fidget, I will take that as a sign of their desire to leave. After several minutes have passed and no one has risen from their seats, a serpentine smile stretches across my face.
"Excellent." I clap my hands together and step forward, turning to face Amaryn head-on. "Amaryn. The Bloomtide. The former God of Spring. You have been found guilty of harm towards one of my own." I cut the bindings on her chair and yank her to her feet with a shadow before wrapping her up in several. "The deaths of Solarius and Avidor on the battlefield left a lot to be desired. This one will not . Everyone, let us exit to the courtyard so I may serve the Bloomtide with her punishment."
Dragging Amaryn behind me by my shadows, I exit into the sunlight and stand in the middle of the grassy courtyard in front of the hall. Slowly, all of Rainworth files out of the building and posts themselves on the edge of the square. When all have exited, I take a step back from the former God of Spring and secure her to the spot with roots I bring forward with her own magic.
"For your crimes," I speak loudly and clearly, "you are sentenced to eternity. An eternity where you speak no poison." I rip the gag from her mouth, wrenching her jaw open so everyone can see I took her tongue.
"An eternity where you see no love." I grab her face with both hands, pushing my thumbs into her eye sockets until I feel those wide, green eyes give way to pressure. The crowd sucks in a breath, and I hear gagging and retching, but I ignore it and scoop the now sightless eyes from their home in her skull and drop them on the ground. A guttural scream tears out of her throat, and unintelligible words fall from her mouth as the blood pours from the empty, soulless sockets on her face. The effect is chilling, like a flesh-covered skull come to life before me.
I feel nothing.
Maybe I should feel guilt at mutilating her.
But I do not.
I feel numb.
I walk around to Amaryn's side, working hard not to make eye contact with the people of Rainworth. I do not need to see their judgment, their fear of me. They made their decision to stay, and this is their first taste of what I will do for those I love. This version of me has been simmering under the surface for a long time.
Amaryn has become the scapegoat for the lives lost of those I love. And I will avenge all of them here today.
"And an eternity where you hear no joy." I grab one of the Bloomtide's ears by the point and pull, sliding my blade along the side of her head and slicing it cleanly away. She screeches, thrashing against the roots on her feet and the shadows on her body, but I ignore her and remove the other ear. Her body sags, the blood loss and shock taking its toll on her now mortal figure. Uncomfortable sounds and movement catch my attention in the periphery, but I pay it no mind.
This is what they signed up for.
I am not just.
I am just cruel.
Within me, I feel my magic come alive, and I pull Decay from Autumn and Flora from Spring and blend the two, releasing them onto the broken and bloodied figure in front of me, wrapping her in the fine mist of the combined magic. "This magic will preserve her body for eternity, trapping her in her own mind—a prison of her own making," I say loudly. As the mist sinks into her body, my gut tells me this will work to preserve her.
Willing the roots that contain Amaryn's feet to grow, I stretch them widely beneath her into the dirt and then urge their growth upward, wrapping her pathetic figure in a beautiful, broad tree. The bark is a rich amber color, so close to the color of Zeph's hair that it clenches my heart. While it was not done on purpose, it seems my magic wished to honor its high priest.
As the tree grows, its branches spreading widely, the crowd gasps, and I take a step back to examine my creation as a whole.
A cluster of branches are bare and spindly, like decrepit fingers reaching out.
Another section has small green leaves and groupings of small flowers adorning its spreading branches.
One grouping of branches has rich green leaves, their shade so close to the Nightroot eyes that it catches my breath.
The final quarter is adorned with orange, red, and brown leaves in various states of death and decay, hanging precariously as if they are a moment away from their journey toward the ground.
A tree of all seasons, wrapped around the God who drove me towards the path of being a God of the same.
When I finally allow myself to look at my citizens, their faces range from awe to disgust, with more than a few looking like they lost a battle with their stomachs during Amaryn's punishment. "May this tree live forever as a reminder of what happens to those who wish to bring harm to Krillium!"
"Fuck yeah!" Morrow shouts from somewhere behind me, and my face cracks into a wide smile.
"Gorier than I would've done, but you have always been a touch dramatic," Jaz drawls from my left, and I turn my head to shoot them a look.
With friends starting to chatter, the other people gathered seem to release a collective breath and begin talking amongst themselves. Several come up to me and bow their heads or shake my hands. Some of the more green people slip out back to their homes, but that doesn't bother me one bit. They can leave Rainworth altogether if they want to. That offer still stands. If they saw what I can and will do when wronged and no longer wish to associate with me I will not hold that against them.
Mace and Tulip approach me from each side, the latter gingerly pulling my blade from my hand before she grasps it. "Well, that was quite a show, Lola."
"You know me. I live to entertain," I reply, my body heavy with exhaustion. "I couldn't just kill her," I say, looking at Mace. "Not after everything."
Mace nods, ducking his head to press his forehead against my own. "I will never judge you for how you handle our enemies. Maybe at one point, I would have, but no longer." He presses his lips on mine, and I sigh against them. The affection in that small brush against my mouth is enough to bolster my mood significantly.
"What now?" Tulip asks quietly.
"Gather our group; we have to discuss the next steps."
Minutes later, I'm back in the community hall, sitting on the edge of the stage as I look at my inner circle. Cirrha and Taegan did not feel like they should be here, but Tulip is great at strong-arming, so they sit, looking uncomfortable amongst the others I keep close to me.
"Are we going to talk about the seps in the room?" Tulip asks, glaring at Shadow.
"I swear, I didn't know," I implore, gathering her hands in mine. "It must be hard to see him after what happened to Twig. "
The snake in question perks his head up and tilts it to the side. Tulip narrows her eyes at him but sighs. "He's not the one who hurt my brother, and he's done nothing but protect you. And us, now, too. It's weird, but he's still the same creepy ass snake."
Shadow seems to accept this response and lays back down at my feet. Looking at the tired faces of my friends who have become family, I cannot help but think I do not deserve them all.
But time is not on our side, and I do not have time to indulge in emotions any longer.
"I will be going after Himureal on my own," I say slowly, bracing myself for the inevitable blowup that is coming.
It comes quickly.
"Absolutely not!" Morrow shouts, jumping onto his feet. "Fuck, Shadowweaver, you're so stubborn. How many times do we have to have these conversations?"
"Numen, you cannot," Mace tacks on, leaning back and propping himself up on the table behind him. "You do not have to do this all alone."
Taegan speaks quietly, "You haven't seen what he's like now, Shadowweaver."
"He's right," Cirrha speaks up. "He's worse than he was when you left."
Jaz and Plume do not speak, but the former has their jaw clenched and arms crossed tightly across their chest. Tulip narrows her eyes at me as if she is trying to discern my motivation, but she keeps her mouth shut.
"Are you all done?" I say, propping my hands behind me and relaxing backward. I tilt my head back and look up at the ceiling. "Because I will explain my reasonings if you are."
"By all means," Tulip says, and I can practically hear her eyes rolling. "Let's hear it."
"I lost my high priest." My voice is soft but Mace flinches all the same. I push on. "That means I am no longer able to have devotion funneled into me. My magic is a bit more limited."
"All the more reason to take us with you!" Morrow says loudly.
"How are we getting to Ytopie?" I ask, leveling him with a glance.
"Shadow vision," Cirrha says, a loud exhale following the words. "And when you traveled with Zeph, Taegan, and me, it almost knocked you out afterward. Zeph had to funnel a lot of devotion into you."
"Exactly," I say as I point at Cirrha. "She's exactly right. If I try to carry you all with me, I may not have the reserves needed to fight against Himureal and then return."
"So we travel by sea," Jaz interjects.
"Or by beast," Plume adds, a sadness in her voice.
"Sure, we can do that," I reply, scrubbing my face with my hand. The blood on both from my mutilation of Amaryn tightens my skin and makes me want to gag. "If we do that, though, you have to accept that every day it takes to travel is more fae Himureal is butchering. We have played dumb before when we were traipsing across the Lowlands, but now we have confirmation that he has escalated drastically. Are you all willing to give up those lives?"
That sobers the group, and Morrow lets out a noise that is a cross between a scoff and an angry grunt. "Fine, Shadowweaver, say you travel on your own. What is your plan?"
"That's why we're all here." I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees, the pressure of their gazes and the responsibility I have to the realm sinking my shoulders. "I need ideas."
"Well, you're three Gods and a quarter, right?" Tulip says. "He's just three-quarters of a God. So you can probably overpower him easily."
"He's smart," Cirrha supplies. "And insane. He thinks differently than we do. Just a head-to-head fight may have a ton of collateral damage. I have no doubt he's keeping himself surrounded by supporters. Nimh never left his side."
Mace stands up, pacing, chewing on his thumbnail. "You have to get him alone. Can you convince him you've finally come to join him?"
"Do you think he's dumb enough to fall for that again?" I say with a scoff. "Seems unlikely."
"There has to be something you can do magically," Tulip suggests. "You have all of the magic now. You should be able to put something together."
Ideas fly through the room, our voices echoing as we raise them with excitement for ideas and frustration when they get struck down. Eventually, Plume's soft voice cuts through the din. "Yearning."
Cirrha 's head whips towards her. "You can't be serious. Yearning is dangerous. You mean for her to seduce the Frostweaver?"
"Not seduce. What if you blend it with Influence? You can then guide the Yearning to have him believe you have love and affection for him as his daughter." Plume is looking directly at me as she speaks, her wide eyes bloodshot with grief. Her long, beautiful hair is in a loose braid over her shoulder, and she wears a beautiful sky-blue dress, looking out of place among the rest of us who are clothed in dirt, violence, and leather. Even as her heart is breaking, she is still a beautiful picture perched there on a bench.
"An Illusion," Morrow says cockily. "Add in Shadow and Light, and you can create an illusion of love and affection."
Mace stops his pacing and spins around. "Viola." His words are clipped as his eyes find mine. I'm already on my feet. "He wants to believe that."
"So the Influence will sink in. The Yearning will increase his affection for me, calming him down and making it easy to convince him to be alone with me," I tack on.
Tulip chuckles softly, "And the Illusion will blind him to your intentions, and you can hide your blades with it. You can make him see you as demure, with your head hung in shame for letting Zeph steal you away."
I scan the room, locking eyes with every person that I invited in. "What do we think? If I do this, are you all comfortable with me going on my own?"
"You' ll go in, get him alone and close, take his magic, kill him, and leave?" Mace asks, needing to hear confirmation that I will not be putting myself in unnecessary danger. I nod in the affirmative, and his shoulders slump in relief.
I cross the short distance to Cirrha and squat in front of her, one hand on her thigh and the other on Taegan's. Locking eyes with the Tempest, I speak softly. "I will get rid of him. I will not let the damage he is doing to your city, your people, go unchecked." She nods, her coiled hair bouncing a bit with the movement. Turning my head to the Helios, I squeeze his knee and make sure I have his attention wholly. "I will avenge your love. You have seen what I did to the fool who tried to take Mace from me. I will not let this stand."
The man bites his lip to hold back tears and nods, emotions clogging his voice. "Thank you, Shadowweaver. Loris believed in you wholly, and he would have loved what happened here today."
Plume hears him and laughs, the first joyful sound I've heard from her since she lost her magic. "When you killed Amio, Loris was enamored. He loved your brutality. Taegan is right. He would've been cheering you on today."
Rising to my feet, it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. We have a plan. The end of this nightmare is in sight.
"Let's clean up, get some rest, and get something to eat," I say, heading to the door. "We will honor Zeph at sunset, and when night falls, so will the last God."