Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
Malakai
The safest temple to reach was a round stone building in the western sector of the Sacred Quarter. Small and abandoned, its copper-plated facade was tucked away from the heart of the battle. Though I wanted to tear back toward that chaos, I led Cyph and Vale there.
The Starsearcher didn’t stop as it loomed into sight, its tarnished door glinting green in the smoky night, the pillars framing the door cracked but standing.
Vale soared past us, up the small flight of stairs and through the creaking door.
Ripping open cabinets along the curved wall, she piled supplies in her arms. Tinctures and herbs, jars and candles, muttering under her breath the entire time.
She carried them up the short aisle to the front of the room, striking matches, igniting pipes and rolled herbs.
Smoke of various floral scents filled the air, mingling around her frame and shrouding her in a cloud of lavender fog.
“Go outside,” she hissed through the veil. The smoke drifting around her thinned so we could make out her actions.
“Why?” I snapped.
“Because you need to stay present in case someone comes, and I don’t know how the tinctures will affect you.” She poured a few drops of oil onto her hands within her cocoon of incensed smoke and pressed her fingers to her temples.
I was weary of leaving her alone, but Cyph’s hand was on my shoulder already.
With a reluctant snarl, I followed him outside, leaving the door open to keep an eye on the Starsearcher.
We took up spots on either side of the entrance, shadowed by the thick columns lining the wrap-around walkway.
Cypherion was stoic beside me, eyes flicking inside every other second.
There was an unfamiliar hardness behind his gaze—hurt and mistrust I normally saw within myself or Ophelia, but not in him.
Despite the distance from the fight, the clash of destruction echoed to us. I flinched as each cry hit my ears, both guilty I wasn’t there and grateful for a moment to rest. Still, the shame that washed through me knowing warriors were falling in my stead was icy.
That anger, that courage I’d found, seemed so far gone already.
It wasn’t Vale’s deceit exactly—I’d had a feeling she was hiding something.
It was the fact that the moment I dared to fight, another lie had to come along and rip the rug out from under me.
Old wounds tore open. I’d fucking bleed out if this kept happening.
“Can we trust her?” I whispered.
Cyph stiffened, hands flexing. “She told us her secret—one that could make her our enemy.”
In my eyes, that didn’t make her trustworthy. It only showed that she now thought she gained a bigger advantage by being more honest with us than she once had. Or maybe she truly hadn’t had a choice, but now was forced into one.
Spirits, betrayal was never black and white, was it?
“Why do you think Titus instructed her to lie?” I asked, running a hand through my hair. Specks of ash shook from the strands, floating around me. I caught one on my finger and looked at it—this tiny speck of my city that had once been beautiful but was now tainted.
“I’m not sure.” Cyph made a noise somewhere between a snarl and a sigh.
“He has an abnormal hold on her. I’m going to find out why.
” His gaze lingered on the cloud of smoke that Vale sat cross-legged within, and his hands tightened on his scythe.
Vale’s wavy hair frizzed from whatever was in the incense, but her spine remained straight as she communed with the Angel and Celestial Goddess.
Cyph’s lips lifted at the corners despite the hurt still echoing in his stare. That small smile was a promise, I realized. Whether to himself to find answers or to her, I wasn’t sure, but I hoped the former.
I smiled, too. While I may be wrecked beyond fucking repair, maybe my friend could find it within himself to hold faith.
“You’re a good man, Cypherion.” It was important he knew that.
For months, I’d watched him fall into this new role among the warriors in the palace, grasping leadership, providing insight and strength.
He’d shouldered each misstep of those he trained as his own, but he grew more confident each day.
Cyph had fought to prove himself for so much of his damn life, and while we’d always believed in him, maybe he was starting to, as well.
He turned to me, cheeks slightly red. “Thanks, Mali.”
Then, something shot between us.
And Cyph was screaming. A roar that took with it every fragile wall I’d built back up. Snuffed out my last shreds of confidence.
I lunged, catching him around his ribs before he could fall and—
There was a spear through his Angel-damned shoulder.
His screams echoed through my head. Spirits, I’d never forget that cry as long as I lived.
Gently, I lowered him to the ground as he groaned, his blood quickly turning the sandstone red. I tried to apply pressure to the wound, but the spear remained lodged in his shoulder, protruding through his back. My stomach turned, heart rattling.
Footsteps sounded. Hands painted with my best friend’s blood, I looked up.
Three masked Engrossians stalked toward the temple from one of the narrow alleys.
Fucking Spirits, they’d followed us. We were stupid to drop our guard. And now—
The red seeping into Cyph’s white shirt was growing too quickly, the color draining from his face. He groaned as he rolled on his side, taking the weight off the wounded shoulder.
“Look at me,” I snapped, bracing my hands on the ground that was rapidly becoming a sticky puddle. I lowered myself to look into his eyes.
“Don’t—give me—a fucking—pep talk.” His words were labored, thick breaths between each. “Go!”
I spun, lifting my sword, but froze at the axes trained on me.
“Shit,” I breathed, fingers shaking.
No, I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t freeze again. Not now. Not with my best friend bleeding out beside me. But my mind was tunneling back into my past as those axes shone.
My eyes flashed to Cyph—
He was crawling through the temple, inching up the aisle with his good arm. Agonized cries left his lips with each pull. A thick red trail of blood painted the stones behind him.
“Vale,” he panted. “Vale, you need to snap out of it.”
I turned back to the approaching Engrossians, their weapons ready. Three against one.
“Vale, you need to run.” Cyph shook her shoulder.
My vision blurred around their forms. He was trying to get her to flee. Leave him here.
Memories flashed before my eyes. A knife carving an ax into my chest. A sword being sharpened. The scars stung.
“No,” I whispered. Sweat beaded on my skin. “Stop it, stop it, not now.”
Blood pounded in my ears. My flesh tore beneath a whip. Cyph’s broken pleas.
“Please, Vale. Come back. You need to run, please.” But the Starsearcher was lost to her session, taken by the celestial beings that controlled fate.
And Cyph was hanging on to consciousness for the sake of saving her.
And I was…I was…failing. Being the weak, inadequate man they’d turned me into.
I’d made amends. Made so many fucking amends to those around me in recent months. But this…everything going on inside my head…I’d avoided it.
And now it was undoing me.
The Engrossians stalked up the stairs, almost close enough to reach me.
Cowardly, I stepped backward. My foot landed in the puddle of Cyph’s blood, deep red and once so full of life, now death beneath me.
It tainted the stones, so much of it. And yet he fought.
He wouldn’t give up until Vale was safe, because Cyph was a true warrior.
Despite his past, despite his views of himself, he was resilient.
My sword was raised toward the Engrossians, but the blade shook in my hands. I adjusted my stance, and the ax I’d stuck in my belt swung against my thigh.
I jolted but looked down at it for a moment.
I am no longer a captive.
Cyph fought—he fought for someone he cared about. Who was I to stop myself from doing the same?
The axes were only objects. These opponents were only warriors. I sheathed my sword and pulled the enemy weapon from my hip. It was a blade like any other—it could hurt me if I allowed it to, or I could end its reign.
Stepping forward, leaving a bloody footprint, I tightened my grip around the foreign handle.
“You chose the wrong fucking time to mess with me,” I snarled. Determination was igniting within me. The anger I’d tasted before returned with each plea that left my friend’s lips, with each drop of blood that spilled from his body.
I lunged at one of the Engrossians. The ax was top heavy, a balance I wasn’t used to, but I ducked his first blow and used the momentum to swing around.
I was quick. The weapon lodged in his ribs. With a grunt, I wrenched it free and he tumbled down the stairs. He landed flat on his back with an echoing crunch and didn’t move again.
Then, there was a grunt behind me.
I whirled. The other two Engrossians were circling me, cornering me against the temple wall.
I looked between them. They were both larger than I was, both their weapons heavier, too. Nerves clawed up my throat as I looked between their axes, the knives strapped to their belts.
One raised his weapon, swinging downward in a perfect arc to swipe my head from my body.
I spun to the side at the last moment, tucking against the wall. The blade clashed against stone. He struck again, and this time I met it with my ax. The force rocked up my arm, jarring my shoulder.
I gritted my teeth for a third swing, seeing the last Engrossian raise her own weapon.
Then, a flash of platinum hair streamed up the steps, and a small knife rammed into the woman’s back. Blood bubbled up her lips as she swayed. The Engrossian fell at my feet, and Mila stood in her place, both of us turning to the final warrior.
“Need help?” Mila flashed a wry smile.
“Holy fucking Spirits,” I breathed. “I’ve never been more relieved to see someone.” I didn’t care where she’d come from or how she knew to find us here, I was simply glad to not be alone.
“I thought you might give up for a second there,” she joked, as if we hadn’t killed two opponents and now faced down a third.
“Would you have saved me if I had?” A smirk actually lifted my lips.
Mila laughed, a sound like cruel death. She was a huntress stalking her prey, and some part of me enjoyed the feral spark in her eye. “Yes, but I would have been really fucking angry that I had to.”
“Glad I saved you the trouble, then,” I answered.
We both raised swords. Blood dripped from our weapons, creating a steady tune to carve out life.
The final Engrossian was smart to look scared as I swung. Our weapons clashed, the blunt force of his ax against the fine precision of my sword.
Though he moved with the inexplicable grace of their army, I was fighting for the life of my best friend. It was with little effort that I ducked beneath his weapon, catching his wrist and twisting it behind his back.
Swift as a bird, Mila swiped up the ax I’d dropped and dragged its heavy blade across the Engrossian’s throat. His gargled scream swallowed the screeches of battle.
I threw him forward, his body falling in a lifeless heap on the temple ground. In the silence, his eyes stared out toward the city. I wondered what his final thoughts had been. Was he proud to have fought, or was he wishing he’d made the weaker choice?
Perhaps if he had, he’d still have his life, though no path that followed Kakias would end well.
Chest heaving and blood-soaked, I looked up at Mila. Her lips were pursed as if evaluating me, eyes assessing as always. But an appreciative smile bloomed across her face.
For half a second, I returned it.
Then, the adrenaline of the fight drained from me and reality settled back onto my shoulders.
I tore into the temple, falling by Cyph’s side.
“Cyph…Cypherion,” I begged him to focus on me.
He kept muttering pleas to Vale, unaware our fight had ended. His vision swam out of focus, color leaving his cheeks. The mountains couldn’t begin to heal his shoulder—not with the spear still piercing it.
Finally, Vale’s head snapped up. She sprang to her feet, swaying slightly. Her eyes widened for a moment, her dazed stare not truly seeing as she looked at the blood around us.
“I know what it means,” she said dreamily before collapsing to the ground beside Cypherion.