Chapter 28 #2
As the shock settles, I finally start listening. And I realize I’m not in the present at all—I’m watching Finn on the day he returned from the Ironwoods.
“She’s not a warrior,” Finn says. “She’s not a killer. Father, I’m telling you, she could barely put her shoes on the right feet.”
“It’s a risk,” King Rodrick counters. “I can believe she won you over, but that doesn’t mean she won’t be a liability.”
“But imagine if it works,” Finn argues. “Imagine the symbol she’d become. We won’t have a hard time controlling her. As far as I could tell, Melia barely lets her leave the house, like an eighteen-year-old toddler. She’ll be so dazzled by court that she’ll fall down and worship us. I guarantee it.”
“And what makes you so sure?”
Finn laughs. “If there’s one thing I can do, it’s manipulate women.”
King Rodrick frowns. “If her magic is what you say it is, how do you expect to keep that under control?”
“She’s insecure,” Finn says simply. “I’ve never met someone so grotesquely starved for affection.
A little honey, a little praise, and she’ll be eating out of our hands.
I’m telling you—she hasn’t got a clue about the insurrection.
If we can’t get Melia to finish the omnidraught, her daughter is the next best thing. ”
The king drums his fingers against his throne. “And how do you propose we persuade this girl to help us? Ask her nicely?”
“Yes.” Finn shrugs. “She’s got a good heart. Leverage that softness against her. Coercion didn’t work with Ragglestaff, anyway.”
“And you’re willing to take the responsibility? You’ll manage it?”
“Yes. I’ll handle it,” Finn says dismissively. “Once we get her out of the Ironwoods, she won’t know where to run. And if she becomes a problem, I’ll kill her myself.”
I’ve stopped breathing. I’m no longer sure that what I’m seeing is real. It can’t be. This monster speaking so cruelly can’t be the prince I have fallen in love with. It must be some illusion—another trick of magic.
I don’t want to watch any more, but I can’t stop the nightmare from continuing. The king considers. “It would be simpler to kill her now.”
Finn frowns, and there is a flash of distress on his features, but it is gone as quickly as it appeared.
“I will respect your decision either way, Father,” Finn says, slowly and carefully—each word deliberate. “But it is my heartfelt opinion that killing her now would be a tremendous mistake. She fell straight into our laps. We won’t get another chance like this.”
King Rodrick rubs a hand over his chin, hauling in a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll agree to it.”
Finn looks elated.
“Under one condition,” Rodrick amends.
“Yes?”
“I don’t want you handling her.”
“But I’m the one—”
“You are already too close to this,” King Rodrick says firmly. “And frankly, I don’t trust you in any scenario with a skirt. As you’ve said, Sulnik’s hanging by a thread. You need to think about the optics of moving her into the castle. How would Sandria respond?”
“She wouldn’t care.”
“And Odessa?”
Finn grinds his teeth. “Odessa and Sandria want the crown. They’re not pining after me. Both girls have lovers—they’re not subtle about it.”
“That doesn’t mean you can show blatant disrespect and not expect consequences.
” Rodrick crosses his legs. “That’s your problem, Finneas; you can’t look farther than what’s smacking you in the face.
A king is deliberate. A king makes sacrifices for the greater good.
And a king honors his duty to the throne, and the Crown, and his people. Not his prick.”
Finn shoves his hands in his pockets, scowling. “Fine. Have Sebastian take over, then. I would respectfully remind you that you promised whoever found the heir would be named your successor.”
King Rodrick smiles, brows rising. “I thought you weren’t sure she’s the one.”
A muscle twitches in Finn’s jaw. “If she is, I don’t want Sebastian taking the credit.”
King Rodrick huffs a mirthless little laugh. “Fair enough.” He leans farther back. “Your mother can take point.”
“And what am I supposed to do when she gets here? Ignore her? If the whole point is to get her on our side, I don’t think throwing her to the wolves is ideal.”
“For now, I want you back east. Keep trying to find Melia. She’s going to raise unholy hell when the rebels find out her daughter is missing.”
“And then?”
“And then do what you need to do to keep her happy. But don’t sleep with her. The last thing we need is another bastard.”
Finn just laughs. “You won’t have to worry about that.”
I don’t hear any more.
Between the shock and the magic roaring through my blood, I didn’t realize that my lungs are burning. But as I gasp, trying to fill them with air, it feels like swallowing earth instead.
I stagger back, panic rising. My world is crumbling at the edges again.
I choke, stars popping in my vision, blood roaring in my ears.
I am slipping away from life; I can feel it.
But there is no great beckoning light, only darkness.
And the monster inside me, the inconceivable power, diminishes to a ghost, a flicker of itself.
I can’t remember what there is to live for. I can hardly remember my name. There is only pain, worse than the worst of my ravaging magic.
Betrayal.
I don’t know if I can trust what I’ve seen. I don’t know who I am, or if this is real, if it’s falsehood, if it’s some projection of the spell. I don’t know the way forward. I only know that I love him. I love him.
And if what I just saw is real…
No. I can’t accept it. Not yet.
When the darkness comes to claim me, I fight against it with all that I’m worth. I refuse to yield. But the harder I fight, the more weight presses down on me. Death looms like the end of time; death is an inevitability….
Death is…
Death is something heavy slamming into my chest.
Ouch.
Death is painful.
Is it supposed to be this painful?
It slams again, more forcefully.
Stop.
Another crushing blow. It feels like my ribs are about to break.
Again. Again. Even harder.
Now I am angry. This isn’t a peaceful release into the void; this hurts.
STOP! I want to scream, but my voice is gone. There is no air, no light, just the heavy thing beating me again and again. Something stirs, deep in the untouchable core of my spirit—a creature I once knew.
Then, all at once, the world floods back into focus. Sound, pain, touch, scent—they return to me in glorious clarity.
I open my eyes, and Cygnus is kissing me.
The scene is so bizarre that for a split second, I wonder if I’m dead.
Don’t people’s memories flash in front of them as they’re passing? Is it possible my brain is extending itself even further, crafting a full-blown hallucination?
His mouth is hot. His scent is everywhere—pine and sweat and something else, an earthy smell like rocks after rain. Then Cygnus’s lips pull away, and that thing rams into my chest again….
I roll over and vomit.
“Thank the Gods,” Cygnus gasps.
I choke as putrid, salty water erupts from my chest. Gagging and spluttering, I hack up wave after wave of the awful stuff until thick saliva coats my throat and my lungs feel incinerated. My guts feel raw; my chest aches tremendously where Cygnus pounded it again and again.
“You were gone,” he says weakly. His voice is thick. I’ve never heard the Healer sound so shaken. Furious? Yes. Desperate? Certainly. But to my shock (and maybe horror?), Cygnus truly sounds like he is about to cry.
“What just happened?” I wheeze.
It is dark again, but not pitch-black like it was in the cave. We are partially submerged in warm, smelly, very much not solid water, which would barely rise to my ankles if I stood up. Very faint amber light flickers against the onyx surface. My gown and hair are soaked.
“Well, when I walked through the gate, I saw something. Something terrible,” Cygnus says, with a hard edge to his tone that I’ve never heard before.
“I think it was designed to scare us or maybe just kill us, because after a while, I realized I couldn’t breathe.
But I didn’t know how to stop what I was seeing, and I couldn’t look away. ”
“What did it show you?” I ask quickly.
“It doesn’t matter.”
I swallow, tasting salt and metal. I’m burning with curiosity, but I don’t want to share what I saw any more than he does.
“Was it real, do you think?” I ask tentatively.
“I think what I saw was real,” Cygnus says, looking down.
My stomach plunges. “You do?”
“I…I don’t know. I can’t be sure. Either it was real, or worse than a nightmare.”
That’s how I would describe what I saw, too.
It can’t have been real. I refuse to believe it.
“The banshees tricked us,” I remind him, feeling dizzy. “Those creepy people we heard? That wasn’t real, either. This is all just spellcraft.”
It has to be.
Cygnus meets my eyes. I can tell he doesn’t believe me.
“How did you get out of it?” I ask.
“I guess I…” He forces a heavy breath. “It doesn’t matter.”
“No! Tell me!”
“It’s stupid.”
“It saved our lives!”
He sighs, exasperated. “I thought about you, okay?”
I reel back. “Huh?”
He looks furious with himself for mentioning it. “I told you it was stupid.”
“No, I just don’t understand.”
Cygnus squeezes his temples. “I realized I wasn’t breathing and I was thinking all these bad things and then I thought about you and how you were going to need my help…” He shakes his head. “I dunno. I guess it just snapped me out of it.”
I feel like a frog has crawled up my throat. I have an odd impulse to hug him, but Cygnus folds his arms over his body and starts talking again very quickly, blocking the chance.
“Anyway, when I came to, I realized I was lying face down in the water. And you were next to me in the same position.”
I start hacking again, my whole body convulsing with the effort. When it’s over, I drop my head between my knees, shaking.
“Thank you,” I finally say, when I’ve found my voice again. I tip my face to gaze at Cygnus, but he’s staring away, toward something in the distance.
“We did it,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “We actually did it.”
I follow his gaze over the lake and across the darkness. The mountains are gone. Instead, there sits a glittering city.
And when Cygnus looks back at me, I realize it’s the first time I’ve seen him beam.
“Welcome to Ruin.”