Chapter 24
MATTHIAS
To claim Evella took lovers, bore children, is nothing more than the most debased heresy. Heresy! The decision to remove selected chapters and verses from her Chronicles will forever protect our saviour’s legacy and therefore our reputations. After all, we’re all in dire need of benefactors.
— LETTERS FROM PIOUS MOTHER AUGUSTA OF THE SISTERS TO ABBOT JON II
Smacking my head against a pine tree as I watched over the enemy, high on a ledge, kept me sane. The Evellum ensured the pestilence had abated – for the time being – but still something lurked at the back of my mind. A tempest ready to claim the shattered remnants of my soul.
The wild-haired drunkard who’d somehow become Sorrow’s salvation had vanished during the few hours when I’d failed to sleep.
My leg bounced as I rubbed the ache in my clenched jaw, picturing the way her shoulders had slumped, the devastation flickering across her features to find him gone.
The darkest of images invaded my mind. My Sorrow, in his arms. His dark eyes lighting up as he kissed her.
I grabbed my hair, desperate to purge my mind of these nightmares.
The rational side of me, the part of Matthias that still remained, could see there was nothing between them.
There never had been, but the toxins spreading through me seemed to relish punishing me with vile phantoms. The thought of her with someone else?
Kissing her. Touching her. I squeezed my eyes tight, pressed my fists into them till I saw nothing but stars.
I twisted the Evellum cuff. Perhaps it was too small?
The wrong alloy? Or maybe I was beyond saving.
Mother carried another one. For Ifan, she’d said.
I itched my back, a darkness swirling within.
Perhaps I should take it from her? My need was greater than the traitor’s, surely?
I slammed my head back again, tears prickling the backs of my eyes.
I needed to stop brooding, or I’d have a throbbing headache to add to my endless list of problems.
I snorted. “Problems” was an understatement.
My fingers scraped across the ever-itching scabs of the tattoo binding me to a demon in human skin, a tattoo poisoning me.
My country no longer existed, my people suffered atrocities at her hands.
The little brother I’d sworn to Father I’d protect had turned against me.
Despite how I hated it, I’d been tied to the Midnight Insurgence, so if, Evella help us, we did triumph, The Alliance had every right to claim my throne.
None of the other rulers had the ghost of their father’s verdict looming over every damning interaction with the rebels.
I ran my hand down my face. Even my mother was embroiled in a relationship with their commander.
And worst of all? The pain that cut sharper than the finest Vyrium blade?
I lay the back of my head against the cool of the tree as I pictured her eyes.
The eyes of the woman who despised me. I couldn’t blame her, not when I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t throw her on a horse and drag her back to Asmar the second we were alone.
And still my lips remained locked whenever I attempted to warn her.
We’d talked of honesty and truth before she straddled me in that cave.
When every rock of her blessed hips offered me the salvation I’d sought, and all the time, I hid every hiss as the fresh tattoo burned against the rock behind me.
I narrowed my gaze as the empress’s cavalry tried to pull themselves into a single unit.
As soon as they were mounted, every rider would land on their arse as Sorrow brought the horses to our side.
My anguished pleas, my demands that my place was by her side, still remained bitter against my tongue.
I’d even cornered Mother, begged her to part with her ruby, let Sorrow have it, but she’d clutched it till I thought it may slice her palms, her head shaking, claiming it was her duty to keep her children safe.
Then Sorrow spoke and the fissure in my chest ruptured.
‘How many chances do you suggest I take on the fallen king? There isn’t a shred of trust left in me.’
A lone eagle circled and I focused on the soft swooping of their wings as my fists clenched.
Embers flared. Surely, she should have some guilt for hiding the whole I’m actually an all-powerful Deviant who can bring back the dead in spectacular fashion.
I snorted. I think my level of fuck-up eclipsed the secrets she’d held.
But still…
Shielding my eyes as the eagle slipped across the weak sun, I blew out a long breath. As soon as she’d said that, I’d backed off, agreed to the watch, ignored how the words severed me. Sorrow was down there somewhere. Perhaps she’d already been joined by her beloved Hawk.
A sharp cry from the cavalry caught my attention and I crouched over the ledge.
The empress’s soldiers were spread out, and although their numbers were small, they were still well-armed and better trained than the dregs who’d been assigned my guard duty.
There were certainly a number of Anomalies amongst them.
They’d also be terrified of returning to the empress, robbed of their weapons and supplies.
I leaned further, narrowed my eyes as one pointed wildly in the direction of the waiting rebels.
They’d been spotted.
I flew back to grasp the bow and quiver lying by the tree, the warning to prepare. I fumbled for arrows, fear spiking through me at how far I was from Sorrow. I had to warn them. If anything happened to—
I cried as a dusty black boot slammed onto my hand, twisting, crushing my fingers till I let go. Anger, hot and hungry, tore through me as my other hand groped for the sword beneath me.
‘Fancy seeing you here, brother.’ The blood drained from my face. I cast my gaze up, meeting Ifan’s smirk. ‘Something told me to climb up here. Leave my guards behind and see what called to me.’ He tutted. ‘The empress was right to send me, then. Aren’t you supposed to be in Drufaera?
‘Or…’ – Ifan bent down, grabbed my hair, tugging me up – ‘has that poison twisted you beyond the point of return? Are you truly content to let her kill every Asmaran child?’
I thrashed against him. The prospect of Ifan being amongst this guard had never occurred to me.
If I could get the cuff on him… he’d spill all the empress’s secrets.
I’d understand why he chose this path. But what if he didn’t want saving?
The little brother who’d grown stronger as the gap between us grew greater.
Another one of my failings, I thought as his eyes widened and the cries of an emerging battle carried up from the valley beneath.
He dropped my head, scrambled to the edge, swearing when he saw who his guards fought.
‘Rebels?’ His nostrils flared as he grabbed my tangled locks once more. ‘You’re working with rebels? Gods, man, you really have damned our line.’
‘Mother’s with them,’ I said, desperately gouging my nails into his hand. ‘She can help you, Ifan. She has a band of Evellum. She has—’
My entire face rang as his fist slammed into my jaw.
Bending my arm back, he grabbed the cuff.
I swore, writhing in his grip as he yanked it free.
My heart sank as fading clangs told me he’d thrown it over the ledge.
I blinked tears away as he let go, standing and grasping his sword. My hand slipped as I tried to stand.
Sweat already coated my skin. My stomach roiled.
I cursed Evella as the sickness writhed in my chest. Not now. Not when I faced Ifan.
‘If it wasn’t for her, I would never have been sent there in the first place.’ Spittle flew from his sallow face, swollen veins pulsing in his neck. ‘That woman can’t help me. She has never helped me.’
He raised the sword, my stomach jolting at the revulsion in his eyes.
This was not the brother who’d giggled with Skye.
The one I’d allow to win at chivash just to see the smile on his face.
This was a spectre, haunted by the loss of his family, forced into the custody of strangers an ocean away who bore the same poisonous brands I did. One I should have helped sooner.
I leapt to the side, his blade slicing into the ground.
‘Fuck, Ifan.’ I screamed as he bared his teeth, chest heaving. ‘You could have had my eye out with that.’
There would have been a time he’d be horrified at that.
Not now, though. He didn’t give me a moment.
Silver flashed towards me. Cursing, I feinted, the whisper of his sword brushing my black tunic.
Finally, I unsheathed my own weapon, clumsily blocking Ifan’s strike at my neck.
Vibrations rang through my trembling arm.
The blade I carried was nothing more than steel, no match for Ifan’s.
Screaming, he swung towards my upper thigh.
Strength I never knew I possessed propelled me up as I leapt over his blade, using his momentum to slam my hilt into his upper back.
Turning to face me as I swayed on buckling knees, he rolled his shoulder, as though the full force of my strength was a mere irritation.
‘It doesn’t need to be this way,’ I pleaded, adjusting my grip. But as he swiped the sweat from his forehead with his monstrous hand, I knew there was no chance I could beat him. I had to be like Sorrow, weaponise my words.
‘We’re brothers.’
Our swords rang as the blades collided, my feet slipping as he forced me back.
‘We.’ I cursed. My feet floundered as he shoved me towards the ledge. ‘Share… blood.’
His sword flew down, and I cursed, twisting to block. Ifan grunted in delight as he sliced through my blade. The dull thud of its fall echoed through my pounding mind.
The breeze whipped our hair as we stood on the ledge, and I stared wide-eyed at the boy I’d loved. A wide grin spread on his face as he cricked his neck, and I spat out the first cloying chunk of midnight bile.
‘Brother.’ Darkness laced his tone. ‘You’ve failed. Again. The more you fight her control, the more it punishes you.’
He lunged forward and I braced myself for the strike, setting my feet and raising what was left of my blade. Screaming, I managed to block him with the hilt and pushed, shoved, fought for Sorrow, for the future Ifan had denied us.
Ifan laughed as dust burst around my boots. The ledge and its promise of death were moments away. Throwing the blade aside, I grabbed his shirt, my white knuckles clutching, pleading with him for my life. My leg gave way and I closed my eyes. Within seconds, there would be no ground beneath me.
Ifan shoved his snarling face into mine. Spittle and hot breath covered me as my feet floundered. ‘Don’t worry about that little wife of yours.’ He grabbed my hand, and I couldn’t hold back a scream as he squeezed, bones crunching. ‘I’ll get Sorrow safely to the empress.’
Images of Sorrow flooded my mind. The future Ifan had stolen.
A dagger stabbed into the base of my mind as my wife’s name left his lips.
A force greater than Vyrium swarmed me. The thought of his hands on my wife unlocked the last vestige of my rage and a new-found strength thundered through my poisoned veins.
His eyes widened as I snarled, my feet slamming into place as I grabbed his collar and flipped him.
A red cloud of dust erupted around him as he groaned.
There was no question of allowing him any opportunity to recover.
Raising my leg, I slammed my foot towards his face, twisting away at the final second, booting him in the shoulder instead.
Then, before I could land another boot to his guts, I was dragged back by my collar. With rage tearing through me, I turned, blinking at the wild-haired man.
‘Fucker.’ Sorrow’s salvation – Hawk – peered at me, before raising a bottle over Ifan’s cowering head.
‘No.’ Wincing against the pain racking me, I threw myself before Ifan.
‘No?’
‘He’s my brother. You can’t kill him.’
His bushy brows furrowed as Ifan groaned. ‘You… you get he was about to throw you over a cliff?’
‘He’s still my brother.’
Hawk rolled his eyes in a way that reminded me far too much of Sorrow. ‘Fine,’ he said, clicking his fingers. Suddenly, Ifan was curled up on the ground, sleeping the way he used to when he was just a child.
My brows furrowed. Hawk must be an Anomaly. An Anomaly with the power to put people to sleep? Suddenly, I understood Sorrow’s interest.
Cradling my broken hand, I hissed as Hawk grasped my crumpled fingers.
‘She’s…’ I jumped as healing magic flooded from his broad hand, knitting my crushed bones together. Realisation slammed into me harder than Ifan’s fist.
Deviant.
‘She’s looking for you,’ I said.
‘Who is?’
‘Sorrow. She needs you.’
He barked out a laugh, ran his fingers through the tangles of his dark hair, setting his gaze on me. I shivered. Sorrow shared the same withering expression when she dug her heels in.
‘That she does. She won’t be finding me, though.’ He started walking back as I glanced down the valley. I cursed at the chaos where Sorrow fought. I had to get to her. Had to reach her. Had to…
‘She’s fine,’ he said, as though he read my thoughts. Hawk raised a bottle, took a huge swig before offering me some. Nodding, I accepted, relishing the burn of the amber as it spilled down my parched throat. ‘For now. But I think it’s best if you stay here with me, little king.’
Something dark and cruel writhed in my chest at his words. By Evella’s tits, who did this man think he was? Not even Vyrus would keep me from Sorrow. Not now.
‘Screw you,’ I cried, grasping Ifan’s discarded blade and chasing down my wife. ‘I don’t give a shit if you’re a Deviant, I—’
I halted as he leapt before me, his face inches from mine.
‘I’m no Deviant, little king. I helped you as she seems to like you, so do me a favour and stay here.’
‘Damn you.’ I pushed past him, my heart hammering as I raced down the path, skidding, slipping. I didn’t have time to argue. Sorrow was my only concern now.
But even as my boots thundered as hard as my heart, I was still uncertain if I offered her salvation or ruin.