Chapter 34 Erik #2
Still, we loved her. Even when her choices cut, even when she twisted away from us and toward her own shadows. We never turned our backs on her. Not Iver, not Jorn or Edmond, not me.
And yet… here we were. With her back turned to us.
I hated this—this divide, this hollow chasm of uncertainty and betrayal. What had become of us? What had become of my family?
“How did he die?” Her question broke my train of thought.
“He became sick with the Blithe. The healers did what they could but you know they can not heal something like that. They prolonged his life, but only for several months before he passed.”
She nodded.
My steps slowed at the sounds of rushing movement and voices ahead.
The tight streets we took had been eerily silent, until they emptied onto a larger road. Iona stopped abruptly, pointing toward a narrow alleyway. “There,” she said. “Two more of them.” She pressed herself against a wall, remaining out of sight.
I peered past her. People moved down the road, eyes more vacant than those I had seen under influence of conjuring just minutes ago. They were carrying barrels of something. Two men Iona had directed my attention towards remained focused on the people around them.
Iona said, “One of them has the power to compel a person, the other has the power to magnify conjuring. Together, they can do this.” She waved a hand out before us as if to show off the mindless people under their control.
“Why are we not affected?” I clung to the shadow’s peering out only to get another glimpse at the two men.
“He cannot expand the effect once it is in place. The spell needs to be cut to be re-spun.”
“What are they doing?”
“Explosives. This is a contingency plan. If an army somehow breaks through and gets to this point, they will be torn apart or buried under rubble.”
“How did you know they would be here? That this is their plan?” I viewed my sister.
“Does it matter?”
I grunted at her coldness. As if she had not just been asking of our father.
No. I suppose not. Nor did we have the time to discuss. “Stay back.”
She tilted her head, a faint, infuriating smirk curving her lips. “I wouldn’t dream of interfering.”
Ignoring her, I focused on the two men. Flames coiled around my hand, responding to my call with a familiar, exhilarating rush. Careful to keep my fire shielded from their sight, I angled my body. I brought my pointer and thumb together, the energy building, thrumming, eager to be unleashed.
With a snap, the force tore across the space between us, a deadly, precise surge of raw energy.
The instant it struck, the figures barely had time to register their end.
No screams, no resistance—just a flash of heat and light before they disintegrated into ash.
The wind caught the remnants, scattering them like dust, erasing any trace of their existence.
The citizens paused, snapping free of the compulsion. They looked around in confusion.
I lowered my hand, the lingering heat fading from my fingertips as I turned back to Iona. Her expression hadn’t changed, though her eyes glimmered.
“Efficient,” she murmured, as if I’d merely swatted away a nuisance.
The people in the streets began scattering.
As we stepped back into the empty alleyway we had come from, I asked, “Do you want to come with us?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I am needed here.”
“Needed?”
She crossed her arms, her gaze shifting toward the looming silhouette of the mountain walls in the distance.
“The people within the capital walls fear Clause. But they aren’t desperate enough to flee or overthrow him.
Not yet.” She changed the subject from herself onto the issue of the citizens, and the reason for our retreat.
“And outside the walls?” I pressed.
“Different story,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “The citizens beyond the mountains, those who aren’t gifted, they have nothing to lose. They’d gladly join your forces if you reached them. They hate him for what he’s done.”
“And you?”
She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I have my own path to follow.”
As Iona began to turn away, she hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder.
“One last piece of advice, brother,” she said, her tone deceptively light. “Stay away from the girl. Ariana. She’s Clause’s. Not meant for you. Never will be.”
Her words hit like a blow to the gut, and my anger flared before I could stop it. “Ariana is owned by no one,” I snapped, heat burning through my restraint. “Not by Clause. Not by anyone.”
Iona tilted her head, studying me with a smirk that made my skin crawl. “You seem awfully certain of that. Certain enough to march into a Sidhe city to reclaim her.”
“This isn’t about laying claim,” I growled. “She’s not a possession.”
“Isn’t it?” Iona countered, her smile widening. “Tell me, Erik, if she were anyone else, if she weren’t her, would you have done the same?”
“I would have still come here. For you. For our stolen people.”
She snorted. “But would you have risked this much? Risked your life with such recklessness? King of the Lysians entering the Sidhe strong hold, a land teeming with conjurors, all on his own.”
Her words hung in the air between us, and though I wanted to deny them, the truth in her implication was impossible to ignore. Iona’s smile softened into something more unreadable, almost pitying.
“Be careful, brother,” she said quietly, her voice losing its edge. “You may not believe she’s owned, but Clause does. And beasts like him don’t let go of what they believe is theirs.”
Before I could respond, she slipped into the shadows, her presence vanishing as quickly as it had come.
I stood there for a moment, my fists clenched at my sides, her words echoing in my mind. My blood boiled with a mix of anger and something else. I shook it off, turning back to rejoin my retreating forces.
Whatever claim Clause thought he had on Ariana, I would burn it to ash.