Chapter 31
Revna
I couldn’t keep the prophecy from whispering in my mind again and again as we descended the mountain path. Old gods will rise to meet the new. It felt more like an ominous threat, now that I understood which gods it meant.
S?ren slowed the horse enough for me to jump off as we arrived in the square. Already I was screaming, “Soldiers! Raise your arms and prepare to fight! Bhorglid is under attack!”
It took a few repetitions before it caught on. The jovial atmosphere quickly turned to panic, but Freja rushed over with my sword and I buckled the belt around my waist quickly, unsheathing Aloisa and holding her high. “Nilurae, into your homes. Protect those who cannot fight!”
Soldiers rushed forward, all eager for the call of battle. Freja leaned in close. “What happened? Negotiations went that poorly?”
“It’s the queen,” I muttered. A glance up at the mountainside path confirmed a lone rider was making their way down. We had minutes before we were under attack. I pitched my voice to a yell once more. “The Queen of Kryllian is not who she claims!”
A voice rang out above the rest. “Neither are you!”
My shoulders tensed and I turned to find the accuser, but a cry of help pushing through the crowd caught my attention first. A panicked voice—not just any voice, either—growing louder.
I pulled back, alarmed, in time to see a red-haired man in too-big clothes shoving dancers aside to run to me. “Jac?” I breathed. My brother was entirely himself—the facade of Halvar long gone, sweat dripping down his brow. “What’s wrong?”
He could barely get a word in between gasps for air.
The confused soldiers around us were hushing their neighbors, listening in.
All eyes were turning toward us in a steady wave, the momentum building past its peak.
Even the fleeing Nilurae, unable to see the coming danger, had stopped moving toward the safety of their homes.
Jac managed to get out his explanation. “I couldn’t keep—he found—saw me shift and I—”
My heart sank. I couldn’t breathe. This was it. This was the end of the charade.
It couldn’t have come at a worse time.
Freja gaped. Astrid was pushing through the crowd, seeing the truth unfold before her as well.
No.
Slow claps echoed through the air, and now the crowd was turning. Soldiers parted to reveal the person, like a canyon forming in seconds and not over millennia.
Arne wore his light armor. The same plates had covered him when we sparred only a few days ago. A bulging satchel was slung over his shoulder.
And the audience, which had rushed to the ready at my command only a minute ago, now stared at him. Captivated.
“You’ve all been deceived,” he said, cupping his hands around his mouth to ensure the words echoed. “This woman, your queen, has lied to you.”
A hand that could only be S?ren’s gripped my bicep.
Desperation seized me. Freja pushed through to step into my field of vision, twisting to look between me and Arne.
“Stop,” I choked out. “Stop, Arne, we have to be ready to fight.” But my voice was hoarse, weak. A glance at the path confirmed—Arraya was halfway here. Arne raised his voice to speak over me.
“Halvar is dead.”
Gasps echoed. Freja whirled to me, her eyes wide and shocked. I held out a desperate hand, said, “Wait, you don’t understand—”
“The shapeshifting prince, who never arrived to compete in the Trials, has been posing as the Nilurae’s righteous leader for weeks. Months, even.”
I lurched out of S?ren’s grasp to fall at Freja’s feet. “Please, just listen—”
“And his killer? Revna Thorunsdotter, the Bloodsinger Queen herself.”
Freja screamed, the sound a knife. When I reached for her, she backed away. The crowd was falling back too, horrified shouts resounding. The pastry I’d eaten curdled in my stomach and I heaved in air, trying not to vomit.
All the while, the queen descended.
“Freja—”
“You killed him?” she demanded, her horror and anger swirling into something terrible, something life-ending, something with claws. When I only stared, she screamed, “Answer me!”
My Lurae buzzed, but I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t even angry. Resignation wrapped me in an inescapable embrace, and I forced myself to say it. “Yes.”
She slapped me.
The sting bloomed up my face, and I savored it. If she wanted to kill me, I would let her. I deserved it.
But S?ren’s voice pushed her back. “Stay away from her.” I watched his shadow fall over mine as he stood behind me. “The Queen of Kryllian is on her way right now. She refuses to sign the treaty, she wants war—”
“And you.”
Arne pointed a shaking finger accusingly—at S?ren, who scoffed. “Point that finger somewhere else or I’ll slice it off you.”
But Arne opened the satchel at his back and I glimpsed a familiar carved visage. I scrambled toward him, desperation flaring like unquenchable flames within me.
“The man you believe is a harmless ambassador, a known scholar, is someone far worse,” Arne called. “Your greatest enemy brought to life. He’s killed your fathers and brothers, your mothers and sisters, your sons and daughters! He—”
I slammed into Arne, pushing him backward onto the cobblestones. His head smacked, and the strings of my Lurae called to me, the threads pulsing with unrestrained fury as my magic called to every vein, every rush of blood through him.
“How dare you,” I said. Only later would S?ren tell me my voice was hoarse because I had screamed in Arne’s face. “You know nothing about who he is!”
But the silence was too great, and I paused, looking up. Horrified eyes locked on the street beside me. And there it lay: the Hellbringer’s mask, in the open for all to see.
I clambered off Arne, turned to look at S?ren. His expression was guarded, no emotions visible. But I knew the way his jaw ticked, knew the way his knuckles tightened. When his eyes met mine, he shook his head slightly. A warning: I’m not worth it.
“Your queen has harbored Kryllian’s notorious general in our capital for weeks. You all saw the way she looked at him—she has no intention of punishing him for his crimes. No intention of bringing justice to your murdered family members. No, she’d rather fuck hi—”
Arne’s voice cut off because he was choking, my Lurae keeping him from breathing. I heard the thump of his boots hitting the ground. S?ren only stared at me. His mouth moved in silent words. I’m sorry.
The soldiers were beginning to murmur, to shift their stances and reach for their weapons. How was I to point them in the direction of the true enemy? Impossible, when Arne had ensured their sharpened blades thirsted for the blood of the wrong target.
I was going to kill him.
I released my Lurae’s hold on Arne’s throat and used it instead to snap his arm so hard bone broke through skin. He screamed.
The crowd began to rush for the exits—at least, the Nilurae did. The Lurae powerful enough to contend with me, namely the former soldiers, advanced. Thunder boomed, lightning crackled in the now-darkening sky, and the ground beneath my feet rumbled.
S?ren took a step between them and me. “I wouldn’t touch the queen if I were you.”
Surprisingly, several of the Lurae ignored the Hellbringer’s threat—including his now-outstretched arm. He really did plan to kill them. Somehow the thought made me want to laugh.
If the soldiers didn’t care for their own lives, then maybe they’d care for their comrades in arms. “Step any closer and he dies,” I called. Then I broke Arne’s leg.
His cries of pain went hoarse. The Lurae didn’t dare move, all of them afraid. A bit of relief flowed through me like a trickle of water. Afraid. Finally.
I bent down and picked up the Hellbringer helmet, tucking it beneath my arm. No matter what it represented, S?ren had carved this thing by hand. He deserved to lay it to rest or keep it if he desired. If it was left here, they would trample it, crack it, crush it.
I cradled it.
Then I stepped closer to Arne, until I was sure he could see me.
His gritted teeth held back his groans. “You know,” I said, “I didn’t mean to kill Halvar.
It was an accident. Not that you would believe me, clearly.
I was going to take Freja aside after the festival ended and tell her everything.
But I deserve this—you, coming here to tell the people the truth. That I’m a monster.”
I tugged his strings and, like a puppet, he rose. When he was sitting, I continued. “But you made a mistake when you chose to bring S?ren’s identity into this. A mistake so horrible, I’ll watch you die for it.”
“Stop.”
Freja stepped into my line of sight. Tears tracked down her cheeks, but her shoulders were set. “You believe yourself worthy to lead these people, and yet you threaten them. Hide things from your friends. Commit crimes in our names. You’re just as terrible as your father.”
I laughed. The sound was forced. Deep within me, Freja’s words struck like a blade. “The Kryllian Queen is on her way here to declare another war right now. She’s an ancient being with power we don’t even understand. This is not the time to discuss whether I’m worthy of the throne.”
The sound of hooves on cobblestone approached. The queen thundered into the crowd, not slowing her horse until several soldiers were nearly trampled. The Lurae, despite being armed and ready to fight, took hurried steps backward.
Chaos reigned now. Not me. No one knew whose command to obey.
The queen dismounted and turned to glare at me and S?ren. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair disheveled. S?ren and I both drew our swords. He took his helmet from me gently and put it on, the voice distortion kicking in as he said, “Anja.”
She laughed. “No, not Anja. Her name is Arraya. Remember it when she kills you later. But you’re not speaking to her, you’re speaking to me.”
The crowd held its collective breath when she said, “Callum.”
No one moved.
The queen—Callum—surveyed the scene. “You’ve gotten yourselves into quite the mess. Do you know what that tells me? That you do not deserve the power you have.”
He stepped forward and I lifted my blade, prepared to fight. But Arraya’s face split into a horrid grin. “Let’s solve that problem, shall we?”
Several of the Lurae soldiers behind me sheathed their weapons, the sound of sliding metal loud in the silence. I glanced back just in time to see one drape an all-too-familiar veil over his face.
The red-stitched, dripping eye stared back at me as he shouted, “Long live Bhorglid’s true god!”
Callum lunged.
I sidestepped, but he wasn’t aiming for me. Instead, he drew Arraya’s dagger and locked it with S?ren’s sword. At the same time, the priests in the crowd—who’d grown in number—swarmed me.
Caught up in dodging poorly aimed swipes and parrying scythes, I didn’t have eyes on S?ren when he screamed.
Panic seized me. I reached out with my Lurae, grabbing the strings of everyone in the vicinity and forcing them to kneel with their hands behind their back.
It was more power than I’d ever used at once before, and it made my vision blur.
But now I had a clear view to watch Callum battle S?ren with one hand and stretch out his other, fingers splayed.
S?ren’s blade trembled against Callum’s strength and he stumbled. But Callum didn’t go for the final blow. Instead, he backed away, letting down his guard.
I waited for S?ren to renew his vigor and strike again. Instead, the masked Hellbringer wavered and dropped his sword before collapsing to his knees.
I dropped my grasp on my Lurae and ran to him. No one tried to stop me, though I kept my sword out and ready for an attack. “S?ren,” I called, fear paralyzing. “S?ren, what—I don’t—”
“His Lurae is gone,” Arraya’s cool voice answered from behind me.
An uneasy murmur ran through the crowd, much of which had dispersed.
When I turned to Callum, it seemed the crowd had transformed.
Nearly a third of the festivalgoers now wore veils.
Had there been this many priests before my reign?
Or had people joined the Holy Order once I won the Trials and banished the priests?
Several of the priests held their scythes to the throats of prisoners. Freja and Astrid were each restrained by two priests. So were Volkan and Jac. The hopelessness of the situation hit me in full.
“I am a god,” Callum called, stretching Arraya’s arms out. “The true being deserving your worship. And after hundreds of years, I have returned to restore the rightful order of things in the Fjordlands.”
I reached out with my Lurae, but before I could begin wrapping threads around throats, the world lurched beneath my feet.
A piercing pain ricocheted through my head and I cried out, pressing a palm there.
My sight wavered and nausea swept over me.
Just as everything reached its peak, just as I became physically incapable of feeling more sensation…
It stopped.
Dizzy. I was so dizzy.
But Callum’s words still permeated through the haze. “And now your Lurae is gone as well.”
S?ren’s chest rose and fell beneath my hand.
Still alive, thank the gods. But my legs were weak beneath me.
The crowd was still and silent, the reality of what was happening finally seeming to sink in.
Despite my spinning head, I reached for my weapon.
The knowledge that I would likely die to the Queen of Kryllian in a few short moments settled like a stone in my gut.
And like my thought had reminded her—or Callum, whoever was in control of Arraya’s body—she called out, “Kill them.”
But a loud crack sounded. A hand wrapped around my wrist and S?ren’s and then the square, the festival, the faces of all my friends—everything before us vanished.
I fell into unconsciousness before my eyes opened again.