Chapter 42
Revna
I whirled, searching the crowded courtyard for the source of the scream.
Blood covered white robes, bodies strewn along the ground.
And then my gaze locked on Freja, eyes wide with horror, a hand covering her mouth.
Next to her, Valen clutched at their throat, falling to the ground as Arraya pulled her blade back from delivering a killing blow.
“No.” My voice was a croak through the mask. I moved helplessly in Callum’s direction, anger fueling me through the desperation. “No!”
Freja attacked the queen, but she was no match for Arraya’s superior skill. In a matter of seconds, my friend was disarmed and exposed. Arraya sneered down at her. “No Lurae? Your blood isn’t worthy to stain this blade.” She beckoned for the teleporting priest to deliver the final strike.
And I was too far away to interfere. Priests continued to step in my way, and when I had dispatched them, soldiers in Bhorglid uniforms attacked. The ground I raced across rumbled beneath my feet until it shot upward, an earth Lurae somewhere manipulating the courtyard to keep me from saving Freja.
I scrambled to the edge of what was now a cliffside.
The priest hoisted his scythe, ready to kill Freja.
And I knew what would happen next—the priest would teleport Arraya to Jac, to Volkan, to Astrid, and so on until all of my friends were dead.
My heart seized. There was nothing I could do to stop it.
But as the scythe swung, Astrid appeared, standing directly in front of Freja.
The scythe connected with her crossed daggers instead, the impact ringing through the courtyard.
In the split second following, Mira appeared right behind the priest, wrapping her arms around his neck and using her elbow joint to choke him.
He stumbled back while Astrid teleported Freja away.
The queen screamed, her rage and fury a howl unlike anything I’d ever heard before.
The ground I stood on began to sink back to its usual position, the Lurae responsible now caught up in a battle with a Seeing One.
I bounced on the balls of my feet, watching Mira struggle.
The priest whose back she was on spun wildly, scythe flailing in an attempt to hit her.
Only a few more feet and I can make the jump down, I thought, impatience gnawing at me. I can help Mira.
And then Arraya scowled and ran her sword through the teleporting priest—and Mira.
They collapsed to the ground just as I was able to jump down, my throat raw from the cry of anguish I couldn’t hold back any longer. The queen, or maybe it was Callum in control now, laughed as I ran to Mira’s fallen body. Her eyes were wide and unseeing, blood pouring down her abdomen.
It reminded me so much of S?ren’s death. The fury in me made my hands tremble. I stood, stepping up to the queen again, the Soulcleaver raised. Another arrow hit her in the shoulder, and she grimaced before ripping it from her flesh.
“You still believe you have a chance,” she sneered. “Aren’t you ready to give up yet? Ready to join your other half in the next life?” Arraya lunged, her sword curving down from above, ready to take my head off.
This particular swing was sloppy, easy for me to block.
I parried before twisting to level my own blow toward her waist. Pointless, considering how swiftly she matched my renewed vigor and retaliated.
I blocked strike after strike, her words ringing in my head, Mira’s lifeless body flashing behind my eyes with every blink.
You will watch all your friends die, my thoughts whispered. Exactly like Mira. Exactly like Valen. And there is nothing you can do to save them.
My anger faded, replaced by something more familiar. Fear. It dug deep into my bones, impossible to deny. I’d thought when S?ren died I had nothing left to lose.
I was wrong.
I dodged the queen’s next swipe to strike at her abdomen. Fluid as water, she twisted around it and reached her short sword out to carve a deep wound along my forearm. The pain stung and my hand spasmed—just enough for her to step forward and shove me.
I fell on my ass, losing my grip on the Soulcleaver. The sky flashed with lightning despite being clear of clouds—a sign that another Lurae was joining the fight. A reminder of just how outnumbered we were.
The queen stepped up to me, and I was forced to scramble backward.
She touched the tip of her blade to my throat, and I inhaled sharply.
“I will savor this,” she said. I spared half a thought to wonder who looked at me from behind her eyes.
“You and the Hellbringer were nothing but a means to an end for me. And now you will pay. For every moment you attempted to defy me. To defy a god.”
I spared one last glance around for my friends.
Freja and Astrid were standing back-to-back, swarmed by priests and Bhorglid soldiers.
Jac was scrambling down from his perch in the tree, eyes on Volkan, who lay limp on the ground a short distance away.
Sonja was lowering her sword to the ground, hands in the air as she backed away from the soldiers who had bested her.
It was the end for all of us. The end of Bhorglid.
Old gods will rise to meet the new. The prophecy took on new meaning, and my hands shook.
Was it worth not interfering? I thought, wondering if the Tapestry could hear me. Was it worth the end of our work for equality just to meet your own absurd standard?
And then I allowed the fear to go. I thought of my soul leaving my body, stuck in this courtyard, when S?ren’s was only a short distance away—tied to the castle. A different kind of eternity than I’d pictured with him, but one I would accept nonetheless.
I breathed deeply, ready to face my end.
Arraya pulled back, preparing to strike her final blow. And then her gaze flickered away from me.
I had just enough time to feel a glimmer of confusion before a black-clad figure leapt off a galloping horse and tackled the queen to the ground.
I knew better than to miss this opportunity. I snatched the Soulcleaver and scrambled to my feet, ready to aid my savior. Whoever it happened to be.
A far-too-familiar man knelt over her, dagger in hand, growling, “Get your fucking hands off her.” I froze as I watched S?ren—because it was him, but how?—shove his knife into the queen’s throat. She lurched and gurgled, blood coating the ground and mixing with the rain.
I pulled the helmet off my face. Stepped hesitantly toward them. Disbelief colored my voice. “S-S?ren?”
He turned to face me, a sly grin on his face. “Hey there, Princess. Sorry it took me so long.”
My knees threatened to buckle, but I couldn’t afford to fall now. Not when my friends so desperately needed help. But when I looked up—
Sonja’s expression of defeat was now a gleam of ferocity in her eyes as she lifted her hands.
Vines sprang from the ground, curling outward to haul her opponents away.
Freja and Astrid were joined by soldiers.
Ones I recognized: they’d been friendly with me during the sparring match here just a few weeks ago.
General Raunstrup’s mouth was set in a scowl so prominent I hardly recognized her.
Reinforcements. Soldiers from Bhorglid, Lurae soldiers, who had come to fight on our behalf. Several aided Arne, who held his blade out to shield an injured Seeing One.
S?ren’s voice was gentle, despite the violence of him keeping the blade in Arraya’s throat, ignoring the way her fingernails scraped against the backs of his hands. “Ready to end this, sweetheart?”
I moved toward him, helmet in one hand and the Soulcleaver in the other. Still uncertain whether this wasn’t a dream. Maybe Arraya had killed me and this was some strange kind of afterlife. When I reached him and saw his gray eyes alight with promise, I shook myself.
“You do it.” I extended him the Soulcleaver. “She’s been your jailer for your whole life. You deserve to be the one who kills her. And her godsdamned husband.”
A strained gurgle emanated from below. When I looked down at Arraya, desperately clinging to life, struggling for once, a peace like no other filled me.
His eyes softened. He took the Soulcleaver from me. “You’ve kept me prisoner all this time,” S?ren said to Arraya. “You deserve to suffer for years at my hand. But instead, all we have is right now.”
Then, the Hellbringer turned to me. “She’s kept you prisoner, too. Together?”
He switched his grip on the sword and the knife, so the first was in his dominant hand, and I came to his side. I wrapped my hand around the hilt of the Soulcleaver, marveling at the warmth of his skin. Alive, alive, alive. The word ran through me like a heartbeat.
“Together,” I agreed.
We rammed the blade through her rib cage and into her heart.
I watched the life leave Callum and Arraya’s eyes.
Waited until her body stilled, not even a twitch of movement remaining.
A tingle ran through my fingers, stretching up to my arms and colliding in the center of my chest. I gasped and shook my head, trying to orient myself.
When I caught my balance once more, I heard it whispered on the wind.
A lullaby meant for no one but me.
My Lurae had returned. I stared at my hands, but found…
I didn’t really care. There were more important things on my mind.
I looked at Arraya again, the Soulcleaver still buried in her chest. Studied her.
Only when I was sure she was dead, sure she would never return, did I cup S?ren’s face in my hands and whisper, “How?”
S?ren surged up, pressing his mouth to mine.
Tears ran down my cheeks. He touched our foreheads together, and I felt his hands trembling where they rested against my neck.
“The Tapestry came for me after I died. And then it resurrected me and dropped me in the middle of the fucking northern wastes.”