33. Thirty-Three #2
All at once, the ravens scattered. Nova dropped her arm to find her father stood directly in front of her, bringing his axe down from overhead.
She stumbled backward, and his blade missed her, the axe cleaving the shiny surface of the stone floor instead.
As he hefted his weapon up once more, Nova backed away, stopping when her shoulders hit the wall.
Godsdamn it!
It was a misstep she couldn’t afford. Before she could duck or spin out of the way, Omen swung the axe at chest level, striking her in the ribs with the flat of the blade. Her breastplate caved in with the crushing blow.
Pain exploded in her side, a searing heat intensifying a hundredfold as she drew in a gasping breath.
Her chest seized, and she stood dumbly with her mouth hanging open for an instant.
Omen closed the distance between them, taking hold of her left wrist and nearly dislocating her shoulder as he wrenched her hand close to his face.
“This,” he hissed, eyes fixed on her mother’s ring. “Someone’s been protecting you. One of Illora’s tricks. This is why you’ve been hidden from me.” His laugh was an unnerving rattle pouring forth from the depths of his chest. “No matter. It can’t save you now.”
Nova lashed out weakly with Kinslayer, slicing a gash in the flesh of his forearm.
He released his grip on her, and a viscous black liquid flowed from the wound, painting his ashen skin, dark drops landing in perfect circles on the floor.
Her father momentarily distracted, Nova scrambled away, the fire in her side threatening to consume her with every frantic step.
At the very least, he’d broken several of her ribs.
In a desperate bid for air, Nova fumbled with her buckles, tugged the mangled breastplate over her head, and cast it aside.
Removing the armor relieved some of the pressure on her chest but did little to improve her breathing.
Sensing Omen’s impending strike, she spun to face him, Kinslayer cutting through the air to block the axe.
While Nova’s parry absorbed the initial impact, Omen’s assault proved too much for the reforged blade.
Kinslayer fractured along the fault lines.
Nova’s gaze fell to the floor, eyes chasing the fragments of darkblade as they scattered like shards of a broken mirror.
In the next breath, her father raised the axe handle with both hands and struck her in the nose.
Her head snapped back, a sickening crunch followed by hot blood spurting forth and drenching the front of her tunic.
Her knees buckled, sending her to the floor.
Blood flooded her throat as she came to rest on her back.
Vaguely, she registered the heavy thud of the axe being dropped.
Unable to escape her father as he lowered himself over her, she choked and sputtered on the metallic liquid, her boot heels sliding uselessly over slick stone.
In his hand, Omen gripped the hilt of Kinslayer, a jagged length of blade still attached.
He straddled her middle and pinned her in place.
She continued to fight, twisting and kicking in a futile attempt to get away.
Catching her chin with his free hand, he leaned in close.
The fight had taken much from him. His breath was ragged.
Long silver hair hung loose about his face, the ends of the strands brushing against her cheeks.
“You look just like me,” he rasped, a wild chuckle escaping his lips. “The spitting image of your sire.”
The rush of liquid from her shattered nose slowed, her Solar blood already beginning to heal the wound.
She spat what remained in her mouth at him, sending him reeling backward.
He swiped a wrist across his face, not removing her blood so much as spreading it around, adding to his already deranged appearance.
He gripped her face once more, forcing her head to the side.
All sound faded apart from her father’s heaving breaths.
In that moment, Nova spied another piece of Kinslayer within reach.
As her eyes fell upon the discarded fragment, the familiar whisper spoke in her mind, urging her to take up the shard.
To wield it. Slowly, Nova stretched her hand toward the beckoning blade, the singe in her fingertips proof she’d grasped it as she chanced a glance at her father who hovered over her.
“I’m being merciful, you know,” he said between panting breaths, silver eyes fixed on her face and slightly out of focus.
She imagined she saw the same brief softening of his features she’d seen when he mentioned her mother earlier, but the expression disappeared as quickly as it came.
“The darkness . . . it will find you.”
Nova curled her fingers tight around the Kinslayer shard, the familiar burn marrying with the bite of its sharp edges slicing into her palm and fingers as she gripped it.
“As it found me.” Another ragged breath. “And my father before me.”
Determination captured her father’s features, his glassy gaze focusing as he raised the broken blade above her chest.
“The Thresher comes for us all.”
Time slowed as Omen plunged the blade, dragging it through the air. Nova threw her left arm in front of her, her hand gripping the hilt over her father’s. She locked her elbow, struggling to keep him at a distance. She couldn’t hold him off forever, but she didn’t need to.
Omen doubled his efforts, releasing her chin and gripping the hilt with both hands.
Leaning his shoulders forward, he exerted more pressure on the blade.
Nova’s arm quivered under the weight of him, but she gritted her teeth and positioned her own piece of broken darkblade over her chest. Blood dripped from her palm, rivulets of crimson escaping from between her fingers.
Nova met her father’s gaze a final time.
He hadn’t seen her raise her own blade through the murderous delight dancing in the silver swirls of his eyes.
She looked to the high ceiling, to an opening in the stone where she imagined moonlight flooded the throne room at night.
The morning sky beyond was pale blue and cloudless.
When the weight of him pressing down on her became too much to bear, Nova surrendered.
She let her arm slacken and fall, her father falling along with it.
Omen jerked on top of her, a low grunt of surprise escaping his mouth where it came to rest against her ear.
He rose above her once more, his face a warped mask of disbelief, fixated on the length of broken blade protruding from his chest, directly over his heart.
A thin exhale rushed past his lips as if he meant to speak, but no words took shape.
He fell forward again, his large frame coming to rest half on top of her and half on the cold stone floor.
It was only after the effort of shoving her father’s lifeless body off of her own that Nova registered the burning sting above her left breast. Omen’s aim had been true; the Kinslayer hilt jutted out of her, a hand’s width of broken blade buried within.
An unbearable tightness filled her chest, and Nova thought she might split open.
Instinctively, she gripped the hilt, but something told her not to remove it.
She couldn’t breathe; she was drowning in her own blood.
Her gaze wandered around the throne room.
The ravens abandoned their roosts along the rafters, disappearing through the opening in the ceiling and into the sky.
The earth shook violently beneath her, the fortress of obsidian beginning to crumble around her.
But Nova hardly noticed. She heard nothing but a high-pitched tone ringing in her ears.
Felt nothing but the searing pain blooming in her chest and the icy numbness gathering in the tips of her fingers and toes.
Blood pooled in her mouth as she strained to sit up.
She sputtered, the liquid spilling out of the corners of her mouth, dripping down her cheeks and into her hair.
Sleep beckoned sweetly, promising an end to the pain.
Her eyelids fluttered, the pull of the darkness gathering at the edge of her vision tempting her to let go. To give up the fight.
Before she yielded to it, a great raven swooped in through what remained of the roof.
Nearly the entire ceiling had caved in. The bird grew larger and larger until it was directly above her, gathering her up in its talons.
Its enormous wings beat forcefully, kicking up dust in the collapsing throne room and propelling them into the sky.
Nova’s head lolled to the side as they cleared the roof. The Shadow Throne was gone, swallowed up by a gaping hole where it had once sat, the Estate itself disintegrating into nothing and disappearing into the earth.
Cradled in Bryn’s talons, Nova stared at the calm sea below, sunshine dancing like diamonds on its shimmering surface. The creeping numbness stole along her limbs; she no longer possessed the strength to fight it. Her eyes fell shut as the darkness took her.