Chapter 22
Eldrion lingers at the top of the spiral staircase.
Thunderous footsteps move towards us, and he steps aside as two bulky guards I don’t recognise emerge holding a figure between them.
When I realise who it is, my hands fly to my mouth.
In the back of my mind, it occurs to me that I’m not wearing my gloves, and yet I can’t care about that now because the person they are holding is Kayan.
Screams, cries, and commotion filter up from the dungeons.
Eldrion slams the door shut and demands, “Tell me what is happening.”
The guard on the left, a female with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes, says, “He attacked one of us. We were hosing them down because they stink,” she spits, “and he attacked us. He had fashioned a weapon, managed to unhook his chains –”
“Which guard?” Eldrion interrupts.
The woman falters. Her brusque demeanour wavers a little, then she says, “Henrik. He’s dead.” Behind me, Briony whimpers and backs up against the wall.
Eldrion breathes heavily. He rolls his tongue over his upper teeth. His wings twitch.
Kayan is bleeding from his head, and his eye is swollen. He hangs limply between the guards, barely moving, barely breathing.
My heart thunders. My entire body feels like it might implode, but I force it to move.
Stepping between Kayan and Eldrion, I stop short of grasping his hands but stare up at him and whisper, “My lord, please don’t hurt him.”
My words hang in the air between us. There is utter stillness.
Eldrion stands stock-still, breathing slowly, his shoulders rising and falling, his wings twitching.
He tears his gaze away from me and, looking only at Kayan, says, “Take him to the parapet and ring the bell.”
The guards nod quickly and turn, dragging Kayan lifelessly between them to ascend another set of stairs that lead up instead of down.
This time, I do grab Eldrion’s arm. “What’s happening? What are you going to do to him?”
He cranes his head slowly to look down at me, looks at my gloveless hand, then rips his arm away from me so hard I am sent flying. Only my wings stop me from hitting the ground.
Still, he doesn’t answer me, just turns and looks at Briony.
She is sobbing, hugging her waist. It seems Henrik was more than just a lover. He was her love.
“Take her outside so she can see,” Eldrion says, his words slow and dark. They nestle like shards of ice between my ribs.
Shaking, Briony nods. She takes hold of my hand, and I want to protest, but something about the way she holds on stops me.
Outside, it is cold and dark.
Lanterns flicker around the parapet of the castle.
We stand alone, and I put my arm around Briony’s waist as the wind whips across our faces.
Then, a bell tolls five times.
As the final toll echoes into the night, signs of movement begin within the citadel.
Shadowkind servants emerge from the castle, and Sunborne filter their way up from the streets and from the Grand Hall to stand nearby.
It is as if everyone knows what is about to happen except for me, and yet I don’t ask.
We stand silently, and I search the crowd for Finn but cannot find him.
When Briony squeezes my hand, I follow her gaze up towards the parapet.
The unmistakable silhouette of Lord Eldrion has appeared. He spreads his wings out wide, and his voice booms, “Death to all traitors!”
Suddenly, loudly, deeply, everyone around me echoes his chant, “Death to all traitors!”
Even Briony mutters it beneath her breath.
Nausea swells in my gut.
I want to look away because something deep inside me tells me what’s about to happen, but I can’t because Kayan is there, too.
Eldrion turns to face him. He might be speaking, but from here, I can’t tell. I can’t see his lips moving, and I can’t hear him.
Everything is quiet, then there is another rustle of movement; the Leafborne from the dungeon are being herded out here, too.
They are pushed and shoved to the very front of the crowd, surrounded by at least ten guards holding them in place. Their heads are jerked back, so they are forced to look up. Every single one of them is sobbing.
Then I feel him. Finn. Behind me.
I’d know his energy anywhere, and though I can’t look at him or touch him, I lean into his warmth as if he alone can keep me from falling to my knees.
Without saying another word to the crowd below, Eldrion beats his wings, takes hold of Kayan with just one hand, and lifts him into the air.
He flies higher, holding Kayan so they are suspended above us.
Then, with his other hand, he rips out Kayan’s wings.
Kayan’s scream pierces the air and my heart.
I cannot breathe. I cannot see. Tears and darkness and pain swell behind my eyes as Kayan’s wings catch light and become nothing more than ashes on the breeze.
He writhes in Eldrion’s grip.
Still, Eldrion holds on to him with only one hand. Then, with the other, the one that ripped off his wings, he reaches for a knife and slits Kayan’s throat.
He holds him still while his blood drips down his body.
It falls slowly through the air, and by the time it reaches the ground, it barely makes an impact.
Eldrion keeps him there until the bleeding stops, until our necks ache from looking up, until our hearts burn and our bodies feel like crumbling.
Then, he lets him fall.