50. Mercy
Mercy
Darien
The feel of his father’s arms across his shoulders brought Darien more pride than all of the Vienám surrounding him.
Torsten’s words— my son —played over again and again in Darien’s mind.
He’d heard his father use that tone many times with Aeron, but Darien couldn’t remember the last time Torsten had spoken about him in that way.
He shook hands with the Safírian citizens crowding around him, unable to ignore how their hands were covered in dirt and blood. Farther back in the crowd, Halvor smiled at Darien, but there were tears in the man’s eyes as a woman sobbed against his shoulder. Their freedom had come at a price.
Darien glanced behind, hoping to take strength from Larissa’s presence.
Even in his moment of triumph, it meant nothing if she wasn’t by his side.
He’d hoped she’d understood that by the way his hand had clung to hers.
There hadn’t been enough time to say it, but Darien was determined he would say it as soon as he could.
But the column where Larissa had stood was bare.
He froze, still clasping the hand of the man in front of him.
Just because she was gone didn’t mean anything was wrong.
But as he continued to scan the crowd to no avail, Darien’s heart constricted in his chest. Near the palace entrance, he caught a glimpse of brilliant white hair flashing through the frame.
“Excuse me,” Darien said to those around him, not directing his words at any one person but at them all. He ducked under his father’s arm, pushing toward the palace doors.
“Darien!” Torsten called out.
“Excuse me,” Darien said again, shoving through the mass of bodies that swarmed around him. The unease in his chest rose as he was slowed by the never-ending tide of Safírian citizens flowing in through the open doorway. “Move!”
He hadn’t meant it, but an ounce of galdr slipped through his tone. Those around him stepped back, though looking confused as if they didn’t understand why. There was no time to regret his actions. Darien dashed out into the palace courtyard.
A slip of paper tumbled in the wind, getting stuck under Darien’s boot. He lifted his foot and, catching sight of the scribbled words, scooped up the note. His breath fled, and his fingers crumpled the paper.
He raced toward the gardens of his childhood, the sounds of crashing waves growing louder in his ears.
The gardens had been built by the cliff just behind the palace, cultivated by his mother’s gentle hands.
On the far side of the gardens was an expansive clearing right at the precipice from which Darien had watched the yearly Jóltide fireworks with his family.
In his mind, Darien saw Calder waiting in that clearing with Halla standing precariously close to the edge. One hard shove would send Halla’s body plummeting to the sharp rocks and the violent seas below. With Halla in hand, he would be able to demand anything of Larissa.
Darien’s hands went toward his sides, taking comfort in his sword, but his fingers fumbled at the empty opening of his holster as he remembered Larissa taking his gun from him.
Darien swore, picking up his pace even as he panted against the exertion passing through the blooming foliage that hid the end of the garden from sight.
Darien would have to find a way to save Halla, then he and Larissa would be able to take out Calder—he’d become too dangerous to live.
Darien’s mouth went dry and his hands shook as he remembered the blood splattering from the bullet that Darien put in Omiros’ chest. Killing the Regent, a man who’d objectively deserved it, had shaken Darien’s resolve.
What would it cost Darien to kill his own brother?
“Where’s Halla?” Larissa’s frantic voice reached Darien before he had cleared the trees.
“Nice to see you again too, Princess,” Calder drawled.
“Where is my sister? Tell me or I’ll blast you off this cliff.”
Darien slowed behind the edge of trees, hiding his body from Calder’s line of sight and peering through the foliage. Larissa and Calder were close, only feet away.
Calder shook his head, his lips twisted into a smile. “You wouldn’t. You’re too good for that, remember? You wouldn’t want to become a monster like me.”
“Try me,” Larissa spat.
“Kill me, and you’ll never know where I’ve hidden Halla. If you want her back, you’ll come with me, and you won’t make a scene.”
Drawing his sword, Darien stepped into the clearing, placing himself between Larissa and Calder. “I like Larissa’s plan better. Tell us where Halla is.”
Calder’s smile slipped from his face as he drew his sword. “Why do you always have to interfere?”
Darien tightened his grip on his sword as Larissa’s hand inched toward her gun. “What else are younger brothers for?”
“I am not your brother!” Calder roared, running forward with his sword arcing toward Darien, who blocked it just as Larissa raised her gun. Calder’s head snapped toward her. “Stop!”
Larissa froze, her eyes wide as her body buckled in command under Calder’s galdr .
Darien understood in an instant. She’d spent too much of her galdr in the battle, depleting what she would need to resist Calder’s manipulation.
Darien’s arms shook as his own fatigue reminded him of the exertion he’d already expelled.
Calder sneered. “Did you really think that you would be stronger than me?”
He lunged with his sword aimed at Darien’s ribs. Darien spun away, but the tip caught his shirt, ripping the material. In his periphery, Larissa’s body quivered with the effort of shaking off Calder’s galdr , and though her body moved, it was in incremental inches.
Calder struck again, but Darien parried, retreating from Calder’s advance. He danced backward, always just out of reach, moving Calder farther from Larissa. If Darien could increase the distance and distraction, Larissa could break out of Calder’s grasp.
As if understanding Darien’s plan, Calder shouted in frustration, cutting down in a diagonal arc toward Darien.
With a twist, Darien separated himself again, only to advance on Calder, forcing him to parry Darien’s thrust. Calder bared his teeth under the weight of Darien’s attack, but beneath his ferocity, Darien saw Aeron’s patient face as he walked Darien through stance after stance.
In Calder’s hard eyes, Darien saw Aeron’s filled with laughter.
The double vision left a gaping hole in Darien’s chest that he could not allow himself to give in to.
With a shove, Calder pushed himself away, his sword held aloft. “I see you’ve remembered some tricks.”
“I learned them from you,” Darien said.
Calder spat on the ground. “You’ve learned nothing from me.”
Darien adjusted his grip, waiting for the attack. Calder shifted on his feet. Darien’s body moved in response. Then the shot rang out.
Calder hissed, falling to a knee as his sword fell to the ground beside him.
Behind him, Larissa held her gun steady, freed of his persuasion.
He clutched at the bloody wound in his shoulder, but even from a distance, Darien knew it was a flesh wound.
He stalked toward the man, kicking the sword out of his reach.
He lifted his own to Calder’s throat, the tip of it nicking the skin.
“Where is Halla? Tell us where she is, and we’ll show you mercy.”
Calder shook his head. “You always were better at showing mercy than I. You probably would’ve let the old man and the little girl live.”
Darien’s skin went cold as the sea breeze rushed over him. Behind Calder, Larissa’s face turned white. The sword shook in Darien’s hand. “What did you do ?”
“That fake father of yours, what was his name? Aagen, right? At least, that’s what Halla called him as she watched him die.
” The feral grin stretched across Calder’s face even as he grimaced from the pain in his shoulder.
He looked over his shoulder at Larissa. “Halla can keep him company in Helheim. I know how much you would hate for her to have to go alone.”
Before his words could register, before rage and grief could splinter Darien’s heart, Calder reached for his side.
A loud crack shattered Darien’s ears. Pain as quick and sudden as lightning shot through his heart.
He fell to his knees; his chest was painfully hot, though the rest of his body was cold.
Calder kneeled before him, raising the familiar gun that had once been Aagen’s.
Calder stared in triumph at the blood that Darien felt pouring down his chest. “Say hello to Aagen and Halla, won’t you?”