Chapter 48 #2
I didn’t know how to do this. Didn’t know the ritual or the words or the precise requirements for breaking a blood oath.
And he must have known that because the demon prince’s voice slid into my mind like oil, guiding without asking permission.
Draw the circle first. Open the way. You know the word.
I hated that he was right. Hated that I needed his guidance. Hated everything about everything.
But I knelt anyway, pressing my palm to the stone floor.
“Aperio,” I whispered, drawing on magic as a thousand eyes watched me in silence. Including Wickett’s. Who hadn’t made a single move to stop any of this. But then, what could he do? Nothing. We were all prisoners of this showcase.
Silver light erupted from beneath my hand, racing outward in thin, blazing lines.
Not a massive display. This was smaller, tighter, contained only to the space around us.
But the symbols were the same as in the arena, script spiraling in the language the Furies had brought to this world, connecting outer and inner boundaries with precise line work.
When the light faded, the demon prince and I stood inside a spell circle carved directly into the palace floor. Crafted as quickly and as perfectly as every other time I’d done this in my life.
Good, the demon prince’s voice purred in my mind. Now the blood. The blade. The water. Combine them within the circle and speak your release.
I did as I was instructed, reshaping the water into a sphere that held Vitoria’s blood suspended in its center like a trapped star. A copy of the Starfall stone we’d all held to complete the Mortalis and become Venatori.
My voice came out quiet. Certain. “Absolvo.”
The sphere expanded, blood diffusing through it like ink, turning every drop crimson. I let it separate. Droplets formed, hovering. One for each of us bound by that cursed oath.
Wickett. Pip. Calder. Myself.
And Lucy, wherever she was. If this worked, if the demon prince’s power was enough, if she wasn’t already dead in the Ash somewhere while we stood here playing games with ancient monsters, then maybe she’d be freed of this too.
I felt the oath break.
Not dramatic. Not explosive like the Starfall stones had been. Just... gone. The pressure that had been building for all these days released at once, leaving me gasping like I’d been drowning and only just realized.
Free.
We were free.
And I’d never felt more trapped in my life.
I looked at Vitoria, really looked at the woman I’d called sister, who I’d defended and protected and loved.
“I’m going to kill you,” I breathed. “Oath or no oath.”
Her smile widened. “I’d like to see you try.”
The throne room doors burst open with enough force to crack stone.
Tiberius Veyne shoved through the crowd like a man possessed, dragging something, someone, behind him. A frail old woman with long white hair, stumbling to keep up with his brutal pace.
What the fuck was he doing here?
I spun toward Wickett without thinking of the attention it would put on him. I needed to make sure he was okay, that seeing his father wouldn’t break something in him that had just started to heal.
But Wickett wasn’t looking at Tiberius. He was staring at Vitoria with an expression I couldn’t read. The blood oath was never the reason he wanted the Phoenix dead. He still wanted to see her death through. I guess in that, we were the same.
“Despite your witch’s curse eating me alive,” Tiberius announced, his voice carrying through the massive space.
“I’ve still managed to bring you the Phoenix bloodline as a gift.
” He yanked the old woman forward viciously.
“Tested her myself on the Erelith flames. She didn’t burn. The blood is real.”
... But didn’t he believe Vitoria was the Phoenix? Unless he knew she wasn’t the whole time. And who was the poor woman on the floor in chains? Another of his scapegoats, most likely. Poor thing.
The demon glared. “As I’ve told you in all of our correspondence, Vitoria Nindle did not curse you. Putting a superfluous target on her back for your Venatori to follow was awfully bold. And the Phoenix line is already mine to control. I don’t need a useless old woman who bears no mark.”
I’d thought the Magistrate would always be the scariest man in the room, but watching him walk toward a demon prince had completely changed my perspective.
I took the distraction as an opportunity to sneak away, stepping down from the raised platform as the Magistrate closed in.
Pip slowly flew to my side, and I’d never in my life wished I had bigger pockets than right now, just to give her a place to hide.
Tiberius scowled at the demon. “I’ve funded you for years. And when your little pet failed to deliver the Rune Eater to you, I stepped in. Here he stands at your side, exactly as you wanted. That was our agreement. His capture for my residency here when the world burns.”
But I couldn’t hear the rest.
Couldn’t hear anything past the roaring in my ears as I finally looked at the woman on the floor when she’d lifted her face to me.
My grandmother.
Gran.
I had to swallow my gasp.
The woman who’d raised me after my parents were killed. Who’d taught me magic. Who’d tried to save me by forcing me to deny the fire in my soul. She was here. Being dragged through a demon’s throne room like a prize, her thin frame shaking, her white hair matted with blood and dirt, but her eyes—
They were a perfect match to mine.
Steel. Absolute steel despite the terror and pain. Giving me strength even now, even like this, the way she’d always done.
There was no hiding the whimper that slipped from my throat.
Syneca Talmyrien, don’t you move, her expression said. Don’t give yourself away.
Because if I moved, if I reacted, I’d reveal myself as part of her bloodline. Would ruin everything she protected. Would make myself the target instead of Vitoria.
Vitoria was letting him believe it. Was standing there silently, letting Tiberius think she was the Phoenix, and this woman was her kin. She let him offer my grandmother as tribute, and I didn’t know why. Didn’t understand what game she was playing except that it was keeping the attention off me.
For now.
For now.
The words echoed in my head, spiraling into panic I couldn’t control.
Calder was imprisoned. Vitoria had betrayed us—no, worse, she’d never been on our side, three years of friendship had been a lie from the start.
Gran was alive but probably about to be executed like she was nothing, like she hadn’t spent her whole life protecting me, hiding me, loving me when no one else would.
And I couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream. Couldn’t tear this place apart the way every instinct demanded because the moment I showed my power, they’d kill me too.
Everything had gone to shit so fast. One minute we were entering a city that no one believed in, the next the world was ending, and I couldn’t breathe past the weight crushing my chest, couldn’t think past the ringing in my ears.
Hands gripped my arms. Firm. Steady.
Wickett.
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to tell me it would be okay or offer empty comfort. Just held my arms like he knew he was the only thing keeping me tethered to the ground instead of flying apart into a thousand pieces.
Maybe he was.
Maybe without that touch, without that anchor, I would have broken completely.
Would have launched myself at the demon prince or Tiberius or Vitoria or all of them at once, consequences be damned.
But he held on. And somehow that was enough to keep me standing when everything else was falling apart.
The demon prince moved toward Tiberius, and the temperature in the room dropped.
“You’ve forgotten your place, Magistrate.” He’d somehow taken an icier tone than before. “Forgotten that I am not some politician you can negotiate with. Not some peer you can bargain with as equals.”
“I delivered the charidryn. Like you asked.”
“You delivered nothing.” The demon prince’s hand shot out, gripping Tiberius’s throat. “You are a dying man grasping at salvation that was never yours to claim.”
“Please.” Tiberius choked, reaching for runes as he shoved at the demon. “The agreement—”
“There is no agreement.”
In a single motion that looked more like a dance than destruction, the prince released Tiberius, drew a blade from his belt and slit the Magistrate’s throat. Blood sprayed across Gran’s face, her white hair, the stone floor. Tiberius’s body crumpled, lifeless before it hit the ground.
I spun toward Wickett, horror flooding through me. He’d just watched his father die, murdered in front of hundreds of witnesses, and despite everything Tiberius had done, that was still his father.
But I wasn’t ready. Not for the realization of what that death meant.
The lead hunter mark appeared on Wickett’s skin.
Black ink spreading across his neck like a living shadow, twin blades crossed beneath a crescent moon, the symbol of authority passing from father to son in the space between heartbeats.
Wickett stared straight ahead, expression unreadable, and didn’t look at his father’s corpse once.
Everything happened too fast after that.
The demon waved dismissively. “Clear the room. The ascension is complete. Guards!” He gestured toward Gran. “Take care of the old woman. We have no use for her.”
Take care of her.
Not imprison. Not question.
Kill.
Guards moved toward Gran, and I tried to surge forward, tried to reach her, tried to do something. The crowd surged. Bodies pressed from all sides, shoving us toward the doors, the current impossible to fight.
“Syneca!” Wickett’s hand reached for me, but the crowd tore us apart, hundreds of bodies between us in seconds.
I grabbed Pip, pulling her against my chest, protecting her as we were swept forward. The only thing I could do right now.
I caught one last glimpse of Gran, standing tall despite everything, defiance in her eyes even now, before the crowd swallowed her completely.
“No!” The word ripped from my throat. “No!”
But the people kept moving, kept pushing, and we were swept out of the throne room in only seconds. Into the halls. Out of the castle. Through the gates. Into the streets. The doors slammed shut behind us with brutal finality.
I was the granddaughter of Alessia Talmyrien. The descendant of every Phoenix that ever burned this world. I couldn’t fall apart in the street where anyone could see. I could not break.
Not yet.
Instead, I ran.
Through shiny fucking streets and past creepy fucking statues. Past citizens who’d returned to their lives like nothing had happened, like they hadn’t just witnessed a murder and an ascension and the end of everything.
The hotel. I just needed to get to the hotel.
Pip stayed silent against my chest, her small body trembling. We burst through the door, up the stairs, into Aureth’s room where the Oracle sat exactly as we’d left her, like she’d been waiting.
The door closed behind me.
And I fell to my knees.
Everything I’d been holding back crashed through me at once, the grief, the rage, the absolute helplessness of watching everyone I loved be torn away while I could do nothing but stand there and take it.
Silas was there immediately, pressing his massive head against mine as he bowed, offering the only comfort he knew how to give. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my forehead to his, and let myself break.
Just for a moment. Just long enough to breathe past the pain crushing my chest.
Then I pulled back, meeting his deep blue eyes with everything I had left.
“Please.” My voice came out raw, desperate. “You have to find them for me. I need to know where Calder is. Where my Gran is.” Tears burned paths down my face. “Please find them, Si. Please.”
Silas made a sound low in his chest, agreement, promise, the absolute certainty of a familiar who would tear the world apart for the person they’d bonded to. Then he was gone, launching through the open window into the twisted city, wings carrying him into shadows where he could search unseen.
The room felt too quiet without him. Too empty.
I stayed on my knees, staring at nothing, trying to find the strength to stand when standing felt impossible.
Footsteps. Soft and deliberate, moved toward me. Aureth.
“You don’t need to do this, Aureth,” Riot said from the corner of the room, voice tight.
“The time is now, dragon.” She reached down, her hand finding my chin, tilting my face up with gentle firmness. “This moment has been written in the stars since before magic came to this world, child. I know where we must go. But prepare your heart as best you can.”
Her words felt like a promise, a reprieve and devastation all at once.
I looked up at the woman through tears that burned and whispered, “Where?”