Chapter 16
Sixteen
The Commander of Death
An alarm split the air, high and shrill, the kind that made my ears want to bleed.
“Orin! Let’s go,” Bohdi snapped. But he just stared at me with that unsettling iridescent sheen.
Not blinking. Not reacting. The dining hall roared behind him, but he didn’t hear it.
It was like he couldn’t hear Bohdi. I waved a hand before his face.
Nothing. Like an empty shell waiting for purpose.
Bohdi reached out and placed his hand on Orin’s shoulder— and he jerked back as if he had touched hot coals. “What’s wrong with him?”
“I…don’t know.” But I did know. The knowledge sank like a stone. I did this to him, broke him in some way.
Bohdi’s voice thinned. “I can’t read him anymore. I can only feel you.”
Screams and shouting filled the air, the sounds of weapons clashing growing closer. The Fae hadn’t just breached the gate. They had breached the barracks.
“They’re here.” My head snapped back towards the dining hall. How was I supposed to fight the enemy after a week of training and a Sanctum that would get me killed?
“Orin, we need to fight.” The shimmering in his eyes glistened, as if responding to my words.
“I will protect you at all costs,” Orin said, gripping the hilt of his sword and unsheathing it with a metal rasp. He squared his shoulders and walked towards the chaos.
Bohdi looked at me with suspicion. Like he had never really looked at me before. Could he see the monster that lurked beneath the surface? Would he try to kill me too?
Bohdi unstrapped a dagger from his waist and carefully passed it to me, pressing the handle into my palm. “Try to hide. Or to run. The other initiates have been given the same instructions.”
I nodded at him, my heart racing with anticipation.
Pure chaos greeted me as we stepped into the dining hall.
My limbs froze. Tables were overturned. There was a flurry of movement and noise.
Blood. Blood splattered the floor, oozing from bodies of the fallen.
But it was the enormous shirtless, warriors with pointed ears that made my stomach churn.
Their sharpened canines glistened as they smiled through the bloodshed.
They looked barbaric. They looked like the bringers of death.
“Move, Lyra!” Orin’s yell cut through my haze. A Fae warrior stepped into my path, grinning down at me with a blood-splattered face. Moving seemed like a good idea if I wanted to live.
I raised my dagger feebly, eyeing the blade with disgust. I doubted that it would do anything against the gigantic warrior. He took two steps towards me, my heart racing.
Orin dove in front of me. Their swords met with a sharp whack of metal against metal.
“Lyra!” Riven ducked to my side, covered in blood. He took the dagger from my hands and pressed my axe into my palms. I wasn’t sure how he had gotten it for me, but Gods, I was grateful to see it.
My eyes flashed to his, a storm raging in their depths. He winked, curling my fingers around its hilt before turning to stab a Fae in the ribs with my dagger.
I looked down at the axe buzzing against my skin. The silver etchings in the onyx handle began to illuminate with a dull, shimmering light. It was strange, but I felt connected to it.
I levelled my eyes on a Fae that had his back to me, locked in combat with Bohdi.
He raised his large sword, swinging it down with force.
Bohdi’s sword was quick to meet it, and he moved with a lethal strength that I envied.
My vision darkened around the edges, making everything seem a little bit clearer.
I drew the axe behind me, its silver edge humming with heat.
My stitches pulled uncomfortably, but I was going to do this even if they tore open.
I sent a silent prayer to Gods I knew wouldn’t listen.
Every ounce of fear and anger I had propelled the axe through the air.
It was going to miss. But the axe veered, like it had a will of its own.
It slammed into the Fae’s back with a wet, meaty thud, blood spraying in an arc like gory rain.
Perhaps the Gods weren’t so estranged after all.
A satisfied smirk slid across my face. The Fae warrior fell in a heap at Bohdi’s feet who looked up at me with raised eyebrows.
“Bohdi, behind you!” I yelled, and he spun just in time, sword raised to block an attacking hit.
The axe pulsed, darker lines appearing like veins on its hilt.
It looked like it was feeding from the dead.
I tugged the axe, struggling to pull it free.
I put my foot on his back and pulled until it gave way with a wet squelch.
Wasn’t I supposed to be running? I was never good at doing what I was told.
There were bodies everywhere. The remaining Iron Guards locked in combat with the Fae. I found Riven amongst the chaos, a sword held to his neck. The metal blade pressed in, drawing blood. The fool was still grinning as if he were in no danger at all.
Drown them. The voice echoed through my head. It was getting harder to resist the pull.
My vision darkened as the voices surged, and I let it pull me under. The metallic scent of blood suddenly felt electrifying, every detail at my discretion.
The song curled through my throat before I could stop it, like it had been waiting. I could feel the power swimming in my veins. I walked slowly through the chaos, hips swaying with every purposeful step. Weapons paused. Those who could hear my song watched with unwavering attention.
But I was singing to the Fae drawing Riven’s blood.
His head whipped in my direction, and he instantly dropped to his knees.
His eyes were wide as he stared at me with parted lips, his breathing uneven.
Riven had already moved on, locked in a brutal clash with another Fae as I stepped in front of my kill.
I leant down, cradling his rugged face between my hands.
He swallowed hard, eyes dilated unnaturally.
That same iridescent sheen reflected at me that shone in Orin’s eyes.
My movements were slow. Deliberate. Testing a theory, I leant into his face.
Our breaths mingled and our lips almost touched.
He dropped back onto his heels, and I followed, straddling his hips.
He hardened beneath me and the tingling intensified over my skin.
As though I was taking his power. His desire, I realised.
It made me feel stronger. I leant in further, brushing my lips against his in a soft kiss. A kiss of death.
“Drown,” I whispered against him. I pulled back, just enough to watch. He gasped soundlessly, convulsing beneath me and still I held him there. My fingers dug into his cheeks, forcing his panic-filled gaze to mine. I wanted to watch his life slowly fade away.
My own breath came fast, almost matching his struggle, until it stopped altogether. Water trickled from his lips, shimmering as it caught the light, and then—nothing.
His body stilled, his mouth frozen open in a soundless plea. I stood, watching with predatory fascination as his body slumped to the ground, heavy and still, like a marionette with its strings cut—
Pain burst through my thigh. The black tip of a spear jutting from my flesh, slick with my own blood.
The scream clawing up my throat died before it could escape, breaking into a strangled whimper.
The world tilted. Heat seared through my leg, every heartbeat a pulse of fire.
I stumbled, breath catching on the agony.
Then I saw my attacker and froze, heart aching.
Dreya stood several paces away, arm still outstretched from the throw, her expression frozen between horror and disgust. My stomach dropped. She had seen me yield water and didn’t hesitate to sacrifice me for her Gods.
“Monster,” she yelled, the word hurtling across the distance between us. Somehow, I heard it over the chaos. And just like that, my heart cracked.
I spun, barely taking a step before pain detonated in my leg and sent me crashing to my knees.
But it was the darkness pulsing at the edge of the room, as if it were alive that made me falter. It was hauntingly familiar. Just like my dream.
A monstrous Fae tore free from the shadows, darkness crawling over his muscular form as though it wanted to claim him again.
His onyx eyes met mine through the chaos, gleaming with the promise of death as he brought his sword over his head. His muscles strained as he launched it through the air. Towards me.
Something hard slammed into my side, pushing me forward. My hands slapped against the blood-splattered ground with a force that stole my breath. The spear jarring against the ground with sickening force, and I screamed through gritted teeth.
The world blurred.
This was it.
Death.
There was a wet thud. A grunt of pain.
Orin’s body was suddenly in front of me. He dropped to his knees, looking at the Fae sword protruding through his chest with disbelief.
“No!” I screamed.
A chill of dread ran up my spine. I tried to stand, stumbling under the pain that throbbed angrily through my leg. I fell to my knees, and a sob escaped my lips. Orin slumped to his side, blood dripping from his mouth.
My very soul darkened. I threw my head back. My scream shattered into layered tones, as if something inside me had awakened, a creature with a hundred voices crying out through my bones. I focused on as many Fae as I could. I could feel the essence of their souls, cursing them to drown.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Dead bodies dropped around us. My eyes cracked open. At least ten Fae had fallen, the sounds of their wet gasps echoing above the bloodshed. Heaviness washed over me, burning as though my nerves had been set on fire. I fought the grip of unconsciousness and crawled to Orin.
“No,” I managed to whisper, voice breaking along with my heart.
His head hung weakly to the side, tears slipping from his eyes. His eyes that were wrong.
“Why did you do that?” I whispered, voice broken by a sob.
“I protected you.” His words choked off in a wet splutter, gaze turning vacant. Unseeing.
“No!” I sobbed. Numbness spread over my body. A heaviness dragged at my limbs, as though grief itself was trying to burn me alive. The world around me erupted into chaos. This was my fault. Orin was dead because I did something to him.
“Kill the cursed one!” someone shouted in the distance. The yelling blended, a melody of hate that damned me in their eyes. But I couldn’t run. I couldn’t fight. My power felt empty.
The world tilted as my body slumped onto the blood-soaked floor next to Orin.
“Lyra, we have to go.” A rough hand shook me. I pried my heavy eyes open. Riven was yelling at me, but I couldn’t quite hear him. As if I had floated away from myself. As if I no longer existed.
Bohdi knelt over Orin’s dead body, pressing his fingers to his neck to check for life as tears slipped over his cheeks.
“Shit.” Riven’s eyes widened, looking at something past me.
“I will come for you, Lyra.” Riven’s words sounded muffled.
My eyes trailed back to his blurry form hovering over me.
His face was panicked as he let go of my shoulders, and I slumped back to the ground.
I reached out, clutching Orin’s lifeless hand.
The shadows seemed to move, crawling up Bohdi’s arms. His mouth opened as if to scream, but the darkness plunged into his mouth, cutting off any noise. His skin sunk in on itself, withering and turning grey. Bohdi’s corpse fell backwards, hitting the ground and exploding into a pile of dust.
Numb. I was numb. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t feel my body beyond the heated throbbing in my thigh or the unnatural stiffness of Orin’s hand. He was dead. Bohdi was dead. Maybe I was too. Maybe this is what dying felt like. Weightless. Forgotten. Empty.
Then I saw him.
Death stepped from the darkness as if it birthed him, shadows clawing at his tattooed skin. He towered over the other Fae, taller and impossibly muscular. Black curls hung over his brow above eyes that weren’t just black, but endless voids where souls went to die. Death. The Commander of Death.
He crouched beside me, those black eyes drinking me in hungrily. He studied me like I was prey. His teeth flashed, canines sharp and deadly.
My sluggish mind told me to flee. But I couldn’t. He tilted his head to the side, like a wolf about to pounce on a rabbit.
“Hello, Little Drownling.” His voice was low and gravelly, thick with a foreign accent. I wished Dreya’s aim was better. That her spear had pierced my heart. It might have been a kinder death.