Chapter 4
ASTRA
Completely unhinged. Either brilliant or idiotic. I have no time to ponder, since the Witch King is about to stab Azur again.
I close my eyes and focus on Dusklight—or Downshadow. I imagine its pommel, imagine its blade, feel it in my hands.
In front of me, the Witch King holds the dagger. He’s about to kill Azur. As much as I don’t care for him, I can’t let it happen, and yet the sight is so distracting that it’s not letting me focus on the sword.
My sword.
I recall Marlak in front of me, grumpy as ever. Wife. Don’t be difficult. It’s the sword I had. My wedding gift.
I feel it in my hand.
Downshadow. The legendary sword that beheaded the Witch King. I’m sure it can take another turn at it.
Am I about to do the most disgusting thing ever? Oh, yes.
I swing the sword so that it meets the neck of the Witch King as he crouches to stab Azur. The sword goes through like a knife slicing an apple, which is surprising. I think I hear Azur screaming no, but it makes no sense, and I don’t want to follow his plans anymore because they’re idiotic.
As the Witch King’s head flies, I reach out a hand and catch it by the dark purple hair, then lead it to my mouth and drink as much blood as I can in the half second I have before the ghouls swarm me and Azur.
I crouch, push the Witch King’s body aside, then lick the dagger with Azur’s blood and hold his hand.
There are so many ghouls, and I still can’t reach them. What I sense from them is aggression, revenge. I need to get out of here now, and I hope my plan makes any sense, or else this is going to be my end.
And I still feel no magic from the blood I drank. Nothing. Then, all at once, my senses are swarmed with so much power that I can barely grasp it.
I close my eyes and imagine another place. Any place. No. I need to know it well, and I don’t want to risk getting my magic traced, so it needs to be somewhere safe.
The island comes to mind. The island where I had so many awkward breakfasts with Marlak, where I got my sword, where so many things happened. Then I see it. It’s as if it’s beneath me, the stone house obscured by the trees surrounding it, the clearing where I trained, it’s all there, within reach.
And yet it pushes me back, towards darkness. I don’t know if I’m still in that cave or if I’m falling through the space between space. I hold firmly onto Azur’s hand, and yet I fear we’re about to fall or disintegrate; I don’t even know.
A thought comes to me in a flash. The island is protected. Too protected. I need to come up with another place quickly.
The only other suitable place is the river island where I camped with Marlak. I have no idea where it’s located, but I remember the trees at the river bank, the sandy ground, then vividly remember the rain and sharing a tent with him for the first time.
I can see that island in my mind, can even feel the sand under my feet, but there are still screams.
No. One scream.
I open my eyes and realize I’m sitting on a small sandy island surrounded by a river illuminated by moonlight.
“No!” It’s Azur who’s screaming. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Saving you. And how can you scream when you just had a knife in your chest?”
He exhales and looks around, I suppose realizing we’re safe. “He stabbed my chest, not my throat.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling well.”
Azur places his hands over his face, still lying down. “No, no, no. No, Astra. Why?”
His question is absurd. “Why? He was going to kill you, you dimwit.”
“The dimwit here is not me. Can you even think?” What’s he getting at?
I huff. “If I may say, I’m quite brilliant. I came up with the gross idea of licking both of your bloods in less than a second.”
Gross. Incredibly gross. That blood is churning in my stomach, unwanted, putrid, horrific.
There’s power coursing through my veins.
Incredible power, and yet it’s all murky, dirty, disgusting.
I feel horrible. And yet I saved my life—and Azur’s.
Who has the gall to complain after his plan flopped like that.
“What exactly was your brilliant idea?” I ask.
“It should be obvious!”
“Right. Getting murdered. Was that your plan?”
His eyes are wide. “What else would it be?”
I’m about to give him a snarky reply, when the meaning of his words truly reaches me. Or almost reaches me. It makes no sense. Did I mishear him? “Your plan was to get killed?”
“How else can I stop him from taking my magic?”
“By escaping? Transcending away, like I just did?”
Azur chuckles bitterly and shakes his head. “That might work—as a temporary solution. And there’s more. I’m bound to him, just like I was bound to Renel. It means if he gives me a direct command, I can’t refuse. Can you imagine what he could do with that? I could be turned into his puppet.”
“I don’t think he’ll bother us that soon.
” I realize I’m still holding the head with one hand.
That’s so incredibly disturbing and disgusting.
Normal Astra wants to scream and run away in fear, but these last seconds have turned me into something different.
I raise the head. “See? Beheaded. He won’t be putting it back. ”
Azur grimaces when he sees the gruesome thing I have in my hand. “Oh, gross. Throw it away!”
I don’t blame him for his reaction, but I’m not going to throw the Witch King’s head in the Nymph’s river or across it, where someone could trace that magic.
I say, “We need to make sure we destroy it properly.”
“You think that’s how he heals from a beheading? Reattaching the head? So now that you have it, he won’t heal?”
“I don’t know how he came back, if it’s even the same body. What I know is that last time he was beheaded, he rested for three hundred years. Perhaps he’ll give us some respite.”
Azur’s chest rises and falls slowly. “No. I beheaded Zorwal, and he was alive the next day.”
I’m definitely hearing things wrong. “You beheaded someone who came back to life? The next day?”
“Yes. And maybe they have similar magic. I don’t know.” He points at the head. “Beheading clearly didn’t work properly last time, and I think what contained him was the magic in that cave. There would be no need for a prison if beheading killed him for good, right?”
“But I have the head.” I raise it and show it to him. “Maybe it will make a difference.”
“Who knows?” Azur takes a deep breath, his face thoughtful, then stares at me, his eyes distant. “You know I called you a whore once?”
Why is he bringing that up?
“Yes. I was eavesdropping. I pity your poor manners and disturbed view of women. Are you trying to apologize?”
“No. I also told your husband I’d cut you into pieces, and I enjoyed every second of seeing his temper rise. He’s funny—and pathetic.” He smirks. “I also wanted to kill him. Perhaps I should try again.”
He stares at me as if expecting something, while I just find the whole thing bizarre.
“Wow, your gratitude is so moving. I’d never have guessed I’d hear such touching words from someone for whom I risked my life. Incredible. Feeling good about yourself?”
“What do you think? And I still want to destroy the corrupt Crystal Court.”
“I’ll have fun watching you try.”
His eyes have an odd glint, while his jaw is hard. He stares at me like that for a few seconds, then huffs. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you get angry? Annoyed? What kind of liquid courses through your veins? Water?”
“Ice, perhaps.”
“That’s solid!”
I look away and get up. I should be upset. My temper is often out of control, and yet I feel a strange sense of numbness, not to mention the horrific nausea. And then the shock, disgust. The head in my hand sickens me, and part of me wants to throw it away, but it’s as if my fingers are locked.
“I’m not feeling well,” I mutter.
Azur clicks his tongue, then grunts. “Pain. So much pain. Aaaah. Mercy, please. Mercy.” Something sounds phony in his tone.
I take a look at him. “Are you trying to convince me to kill you?”
“I’m begging you. Mercy!”
I narrow my eyes. “How come you were fine just now?”
“I was not. My wounds are severe, Astra.”
“I hope you survive and have a very, very long life to look back and regret upsetting Marlak. And no, I won’t kill you. Don’t attack me to make me act in self-defense. I saved you, and as such, deserve some grace at least.”
“I wouldn’t attack you.” He huffs as if the suggestion was absurd. As if he wasn’t being completely nonsensical.
“You seem so intent on dying.”
“You don’t understand. My magic must not fall into his hands. I do want to live. I crave life, love, joy.” He shuts his eyes tight. “It’s what hurts the most. But I’m also a weapon. Without freedom, what’s the point?”
His anguish sounds real enough for me to take him seriously, so I sit by him again and place the head on the ground behind me. “Bonds can be broken.”
For the first time, his face relaxes. “Can you break it?”
“Perhaps. But it would require going to the Shadow Lands, and right now…” I bite my lip, thinking about the Amethyst Palace and the heart that let me control all the magic in the continent, wondering what will happen if the Witch King finds it, all the horror he could unleash.
The thought makes my breath still, while a cold dread settles in my chest and runs through my spine.
Azur narrows his eyes. “What?”
“We need to stop the Witch King.”
He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say.”
Maybe I should have accepted his suggestion to kill him. “Why are you so rude? I saved you.”
His eyebrow is raised in a haughty expression. “I saved you too, and I’m not repeating it every second. Also, I told you to sneak out.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you there to die.”
He narrows his eyes. “Why do you even care?”
“For you? I don’t, actually.”
He grimaces. “Then why did you save me?”
“You told us to stick together, and that’s what you do for your teammate. Now, if I had realized your plan was that asinine, I would have found a better way to escape.” At least that’s what I hope.