80. Vera
Vera
“Let me go!” I screamed at Starke, battering him with my elbows. His grip on me was solid as he dragged me down the tunnel after Mortep.
All I could see were Everett’s eyes as the cave wall closed in on him, and a sob tore from my chest. I hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.
“I trusted you,” I spat at Starke. “How could you do this to me? To them? They did nothing to you!”
“It wasn’t supposed to go like this, V.” His voice was pleading, but his hold was still ironclad. “Nobody else was supposed to get hurt.”
“You never should’ve trusted Mortep. All he does is lie.” Rage replaced my unending grief, boiling into the space that held my dormant magic. I tugged against my restraints, making Starke stumble. “Where are you taking me?”
He slowed down to readjust, giving me a second to get my footing. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“It’s like you don’t know me at all,” I seethed.
I rammed the back of my head as hard as I could into his nose.
A crack resounded off the walls, but I ignored the bright stars clouding my vision as I shoved my elbow deep into his gut.
He instantly released his hold. I took off at a sprint, feet slipping and tunnel spinning as I tried to remember the turns we took.
“Praetum firma,” Mortep shouted, and a solid, shimmering barrier extended in front of me. I slammed into it, staggering backward from the force.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted. “I still need you, little bird.” Mortep leisurely stepped over a crouching Starke, who was trying to stem the blood flowing from his nose.
“Voquer,” Mortep said. His summoning spell latched on to my spine and yanked. I was tugged toward his outstretched hand, heels grinding the floor as I dug them into the ground, but it was no use.
I landed in his grip, and he cocked his head at me with a slimy grin. Fingers closed around my neck. “I was instructed to bring you dead or alive,” he said. His fingers slipped from my neck to the amulet dangling at my chest. “I wouldn’t test my patience, if I were you.”
“Instructions from who?” I snapped, but I already knew the answer.
His grin widened. “Our dear hosts, of course.”
Fire bloomed around us, accentuating the dark circles under his eyes.
With his magic, he forced me down another path, until it opened to a wide, domed chamber.
At the center sat a stone altar, and the three High Elders behind it.
The sight of them made my muscles tense, wrath seeking out my phoenix fire but finding nothing.
The second I stepped into the room, the amulets around Arcadia’s and Maeve’s necks gleamed.
Mine mirrored theirs and buzzed at my chest, forcing my heartbeats to match its steady pulse.
“Well done, Lightbringer,” Maeve said, auburn curls tinted bright red from the glow. “You retrieved the third amulet.”
“And you won’t lay a finger on it,” I snarled.
“My dear Vera,” Arcadia said, voice as steady as always. “We do not need to.” The sleeves of his gray robe swept through the air as the High Elder motioned to the altar, where golden ropes magically appeared. “Malek, please prepare the vessel.”
“The vess—no.” My eyes widened as Mortep’s magic pushed me deeper into the cavern. “I thought you needed me to raise Pyraeth!” I shouted, trying with all my strength to fight Mortep’s spell. The altar loomed closer, and the symbols carved into the stone lit as I approached.
“We simply needed you to get the amulet,” Maeve said.
“We will be able to raise the kingdom ourselves, once we obtain your power,” Arcadia added. “You may depart this life knowing your sacrifice will serve a greater purpose.”
“A greater purpose?” I spat. “Your immortality isn’t a greater purpose! Murdering your entire realm isn’t a greater purpose!”
“Perhaps you do not see it, daughter,” Arcadia said, “but we will raise Pyraeth into a new age. One where we are not ruled by the Fates. One where we are not ruled by anything.”
Starke appeared at my side. “Wait. She’s going to die? Nobody said anything about killing her.”
Mortep quirked an eyebrow. “You didn’t ask.”
“I—I didn’t agree to this,” Starke urged. “You can’t do this. There must be another—”
“You did your job, pirate,” Mortep spat. “Now get out of our way.”
Starke faced me, horrorstruck. “I had no idea. You have to believe me. I never would’ve gone through with it.
” He glanced at my wrists. “I can still stop this.” He reached out to grab the cuffs, but didn’t make it halfway before Mortep raised an arm, and magical vines shot from the ground.
They wrapped around Starke’s throat and lifted him in the air.
“Don’t hurt him!” I bit out without thinking. The betrayal still tasted like poison, but he was my friend. I didn’t want to watch him die.
“Get in my way one more time,” Mortep said, deathly quiet, “and you’ll never see your family again.”
With that, he twitched his hand, and Starke went flying across the chamber. His body crashed into the wall and landed on the ground with a sickening thud.
“Starke,” I whispered, voice hitching. I tried to summon the dregs of my power, but no matter how strong I was, the cuffs dampened any magic still stirring in my chest.
Nothing stood between me and that altar.
The buzzing from the amulet heightened as I was compelled up the platform steps. When I got within a few feet, the golden ropes on the altar extended toward me, wrapping around my limbs and dragging me closer.
“Let—me—go!” I kicked and jerked against their hold, but that only tightened their grip. My arms tingled, fingers growing more numb by the second. One rope twisted through the air and coiled around my throat. “You’ll never get away with this,” I gasped, choking as the rope crushed my windpipe.
My back landed on the stone. The High Elders' faces hovered above me, haloed in the firelight. “You have done well, Malek Mortep of Veridia,” Arcadia said, looking down the platform at Mortep. “You shall be rewarded.”
I craned my neck to watch Mortep ascend the platform steps. His lips curved into a victorious grin. The four of them formed a circle around the altar, and Arcadia raised a dagger to my forehead. The tip bit into my skin, but my voice was only a muffled rasp when I tried to scream.
“We call upon the power of the sun,” he said, carving a shape into my forehead. Blood trickled down my temples, sizzling on the stone beneath me.
Arcadia took my cuffed hands. I tried to wrench them away, but the ropes kept me from moving.
His blade cut my palms. “The flame,” he continued.
Blood leaked from the jagged lines in the shape of a wing.
“And the heart.” He swiftly slashed my shirt open, exposing my chest and the amulet resting against my skin.
It burned brighter as he carved one last symbol above my heart.
I arched my back, biting down on another scream.
“We’re sorry this is how it must end, but we’re eternally grateful to you, Vera,” Arcadia said. The other Elders and Mortep began chanting in low voices. “With your life, we will finally gain our immortality.”
He joined in with their chants, and the three amulets glowed even brighter.
The altar beneath me trembled from their power.
A beam of magic flashed from my amulet, connecting with the other two chains in splintering threads above my body.
Pain whipped through me faster than I could breathe.
It blinded me to everything else, coursing from my chest and into my limbs, my bones, my blood.
I felt the moment their spell started to work. It ate away at the well of dormant magic inside me. The strands above me crackled with power as my life force left me and flowed into the three High Elders and Mortep. Their heads lifted to the ceiling, their arms stretched wide at their sides.
Not like this, a voice cried. You can’t let it end like this.
I dragged in a breath, nearly choking, and tried to grasp at my magic before it left me. Any ember, any shadow, any piece of light. The magic I’d thought was a curse was now the only thing that could save me.
But nothing answered.
Color dulled, but as darkness crept around the corner, flashes of old memories tried to break through.
There were gaps, dark places the forging had taken, but some things were still left.
Nox sneaking me a glass of whiskey after Mama went to sleep.
That glimmer of mischief in his navy eyes.
Mama’s black raven wings spread high in the sky. The smell of baked bread.
And then came my prison cell. I may not remember it all, but I would know Swift’s eyes anywhere.
I remembered fingers intertwined through the hole.
I heard that husky chuckle, as real as if he were here.
I saw our sleepless nights on the cold stone floor, the images he painted in my mind of the places he’d take me to.
Nothing could make me forget the ache in my heart that could only be filled by him.
I couldn’t remember the night I first saw him. But I remembered the moments that came after. Him in the library, looking at me over a stack of books. His arms around me as he banished the nightmares. Him in those hot springs, my hand hovering over his tattoo.
I had finally stopped running.
My limbs sagged, every ounce of fight draining from them second by second.
But I held on to Swift, as much as I could.
Every kiss, every shared breath, every smile in the dark.
We hadn’t had enough time. Fates, forever wouldn’t have been enough—not with him.
But at least I had done one thing right.
At least he knew how much I loved him in the end, because I hadn’t run away.
Now, I was running to him. To a life beyond the pain and heartache.
I was going to see him again.
The chants faded into a low buzz, and the golden light dimmed. My neck rolled to the side, a tear leaking from the corner of my eye. If I could just find him, one more time…if I could see him through that hole in the stone…
I died searching for his eyes in the flames.