Chapter Thirty-Nine
I inched away from the door and the witch possibly right behind it, trying to get everyone else to move with me. I’d made it a few steps along the wall of the room, away from the blood, when I realized we might have to run out of here again, no matter that there was a witch behind us.
Caecilius made a point to look at the boy servant I was still holding on to, at Elias, who was cowering and squeezing his eyes shut, at Thaeros, whose blue coat had slid off one shoulder.
His coat… I looked closer. He was bleeding from his shoulder, thick drops melting into the ridiculous sea of carpets under our feet.
“Thaeros.”
He turned, followed where I was looking. “The witch, I think. I barely felt it. It’ll be fine probably, right?”
He didn’t look fine. He was pale. We shouldn’t have taken him; Ambrose had been right about that. Then again, me being here wasn’t much better. But I was here, and I was going to do whatever I could to get everyone out safely. To make sure the witch didn’t get her hands on Soyer ever again.
“Did you drag the plebian scum with you to make you seem grander than you are?” Caecilius asked. “I am not blind, you know. You are no better than they. You are insignificant.”
“They just got dragged into this. They have nothing to do with this.”
Caecilius whipped the tip of his tail around near his head. “But I am grateful. It will be fun watching the narcissan compete against his brother. A fight to the death, perhaps. Or do they fuck, do you think? It must have been a fantasy, at least at some point.”
Thaeros looked up in abject shock. He was bleeding a lot.
“Leave him out of this. I heard what Soyer told you, that he wants you to make obeisance.”
The tail whipping intensified, and for a second, I was scared he’d strike someone else. The servant boy flinched as well, making me wonder how often this happened, how often Caecilius just decided to kill someone.
“You have clouded my Leas’s mind. I don’t know how you did it.
Did you go to your knees for him? Ah, it doesn’t matter.
” He reached for a box that had been hidden by his massive tail.
It was ornate, beautiful. It was also theatrical.
I knew what was in it before he even pulled out the blade that caught the light on its smooth edge.
This was the third witch blade. “Leas always thought he knew everything, thought he knew about witches, but they can be reasoned with. The witches can be our greatest allies, and he will see that soon, once he’s back with me and has recovered from that spell you have him under.
You know, I thought I’d give you mercy.” He pointed the blade at Thaeros.
“This one’s brother was supposed to take you away.
Bentley said you’d be willing to go to France and that it would make things easier if you were willing.
I’d have shown Leas how willingly you’d spread your legs for another man—or fuck him.
I don’t think that’s the position you prefer, but Bentley says nothing is certain with guys like you.
I know Leas likes to take, prefers a strong lover.
It’s obvious you have been fooling him.”
I knew then. I understood. Caecilius knew nothing.
He had no clue about witches, and he didn’t know Soyer, not even one bit.
He didn’t know me either, but he had no interest in me other than to find out how to get rid of me.
To a degree, he didn’t know himself or what he wanted, what could have been good for him.
I said, “I think he’s sorry that he couldn’t save you from the witch. He said he was your guide, and that he wasn’t able to save you.”
He whipped his tail again. “Save me? Oh, but you are a pitiable creature. Look at me; do you truly think that I need saving? I am perfect. I am the strongest a person can be, the smartest. You are nothing. You are weak.”
A shriek from the hallway outside cut through everything, interrupting my thoughts and irritating Caecilius, who showed it plainly on his face.
Then, the tent construction Caecilius was lounging under tumbled and fell apart on one side.
As silk and cloth clashed to the floor, I saw another door that had been hidden by what had been no more than a stage for Caecilius.
There, in scattering orange silk, stood my firebird.
Soyer had always been something dark and weighty, a force that pulled you in.
Now, he was explosive. The fury came off of him in waves.
The only time I’d seen something like this was when, back at the Moonlight, he’d left me with Ben to take care of the one who’d broken my jaw.
“Amory.”
Caecilius hissed. “You will look at me! Look at me, my love.” He slithered toward Soyer, moving right between us so we couldn’t see each other anymore. He was still holding the witch blade.
The door I’d tried to get us away from was thrown open with force. Not enough to tear it off its hinges, but enough to make me jump. It was as if someone had used a battering ram.
I spun, and realized Elias had let go of me. He was kneeling next to Thaeros, who’d collapsed. He was so pale. He was much, much too pale.
The witch rushed into the room through that door, and she had Echo, her fingers around his neck. She was shaking him like a doll. From the dent in the door, she’d slammed him into it. His eyelids were fluttering, and blood ran from the corner of his mouth in a thin rivulet.
Caecilius turned. “What is this, Sorceress? My Leas has returned to me, and you are interrupting.”
Echo turned his head, and I saw him find Caecilius’s gaze. There was nothing there though, not that I could see. But the witch. The witch saw Soyer, and she wanted.
“No,” I said. “No.”
I ran at her. I pushed the boy I was still holding on to away, and I ran at her. Caecilius saw, and wild, unbridled anger flashed in his eyes. He raised the witch blade in his hand.
The witch, her eyes overflowing with the desire for blood, dropped Echo, and he landed on the floor in front of me.
My foot caught on his limp body, and I fell. I was reaching for her, wanting to stop the witch, but with her silent gait, with her beast-sharp smile, she made for Soyer.
Soyer, who just stood there, frozen to the spot with his eyes on her. He was scared like I had never seen him.
My fall had brought me down right in front of Caecilius. It had been an accident, but it made everything so easy for the snake man.
I was on my back, and I saw the blade before I felt it. It went into my chest. It hurt.
I heard myself scream, but the sound sort of dissolved, merging with another scream: Soyer’s.
“You will die here,” Caecilius said, both hands on the blade.
It hurt. It hurt worse than anything, and it made me feel so cold.
The feathers on my back, I could feel them like flames reaching for their kindling, but the icy blade just snuffed them out.
The sensation of cold was so strong that I wondered if the blade was real at all, or if it was made of ice, and melting into nothing inside of me.
Caecilius looked up. At that moment, I saw something shift within him.
The witch had found her prey, and she was coming for Soyer.
She wouldn’t stop; not for Caecilius, not for anything.
Perhaps he realized it. If he didn’t, it was a predator’s reaction, another going for his claimed cut of meat and forcing a reaction.
On Caecilius’s face there was no regret, nothing that made me think he’d realized that working with a witch had been a bad idea. I saw only anger, something so explosive that he couldn’t quite control who it hit, or when.
With that anger, he pulled the blade from my chest. It hurt all over again, but I was already so cold. With a battle cry, Caecilius struck at the witch. I didn’t see it. I didn’t see him get her, but I heard her. Her ear-shattering scream wasn’t even remotely human.
More people came rushing into the room, but my vision was fading. The edges of it were going dark. I was so cold, so very cold, and distantly, I understood what that meant.
Death. This was death. It made me so sad.
I’d failed in protecting Soyer. I’d failed, because I wasn’t strong, wasn’t a fighter.
What had I been thinking? The most effective thing I’d managed was to fall at Caecilius’s feet while running from the witch who’d hurt Soyer so deeply that he still felt the pain today.
More than anything, I wanted to see him one last time, his eyes, his face. I wanted to say goodbye. I wanted to tell him I loved him, just one last time.
I was so cold. Soyer wasn’t there.