Chapter 26
A weight pressed against her back—heavy, familiar.
She carried it with her always—the consequence of every life she had taken.
Even when their breaths had stilled, and their eyes had closed, she could still see them whenever she closed her own. That silent acknowledgement in their final moments, when they knew they were about to meet their end.
Believing in the Gods was foolish in Cinders. But still, whenever her sword descended towards a neck, Ellaryn found herself hoping they would find peace on the other side.
Maybe that made her foolish too.
But she was involved now.
The plan. Xander. Everything they were trying to do.
She had always been part of the problem, and found it difficult to imagine herself now as even a fragment of the solution.
Ellaryn swallowed hard as she walked the tunnels, blood caked beneath her fingernails and dark stains spreading across her clothes. She tried not to think about the damage her hands had caused, but her latest orders made that increasingly difficult.
This was one that would haunt her.
Another unsurprising afternoon of cruelty had come and gone, yet walking through the darkness alone left her with nothing but her thoughts. With every step, her mind dragged her back through the day, forcing her to relive her actions again and again.
The King had ordered a public execution—Gaius’ punishment for five missed payments.
But Ellaryn hadn’t killed Gaius.
No.
That would have been too easy.
It was Sahar who would never draw another breath. A calculated punishment, designed to set an example for the entire city: pay your debts, if only for the sake of your loved ones.
Ellaryn’s teeth ground together in her jaw.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Gaius and what he was doing now. She wondered whether he had finally let go of his wife’s body, or if he was still sobbing into her icy corpse.
The image twisted her stomach.
She quickened her pace, as though she could outrun the memory, but she knew better.
As she knocked on the wall, a hollowness dropped in her stomach. Usually, after something like this, she would retreat to her chambers and pray the world might swallow her whole. But after the plan she and Xander had put into motion, that was no longer an option.
The wall dissolved into mist before her, and she stepped through with heavy, dragging feet. She registered Xander in the corner of the room but didn’t look at him. Instead, she crossed straight to the bed, taking off her shirt before sinking onto the edge.
His eyes followed her, drifting over the blood smeared across her hands and staining her trousers, as she dragged both hands down her face, wiping away the exhaustion before finally meeting his gaze.
“Are we doing this or what?”
Xander looked momentarily stunned, as though he hadn’t expected her to speak at all. He blinked, then seemed to pull himself from his thoughts.
“Right. Yeah, of course.” He pushed himself to his feet and crossed the distance between them.
Ellaryn lay back on the bed, her body sinking into the mattress as she waited for his fingertips.
Xander approached with gentle steps, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he perched beside her. His eyes moved over her face before dropping to the blood staining her clothes.
“Are you hurt?” Concern creased his brow, but the gentle question turned her stomach.
She shook her head, bile burning at the back of her throat as she kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“It’s not my blood,” was all she said.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the concern in his expression softening into something quieter.
“Are you okay?” He asked. Ellaryn frowned, finally turning her head to look at him for the first time that evening.
“Did you not hear me?” she said, confusion lacing her words.
“I heard you fine.” He gave a small nod.
“Then why are you asking if I’m okay?” She gestured towards her chest, her fingers trembling slightly.
“I’m still breathing. I’m still here…” Her voice faltered.
“I’m still whole.” Her words cracked despite herself, images of Sahar’s head severing from her neck flashing in her mind, and she looked away before he could see it.
“I think you’re far from whole,” he said, his voice sympathetic.
The words struck somewhere deep, lingering in the quiet between them. Ellaryn’s eyes burned, tears threatening to spill, but she held them back with everything she had. She refused to look at him, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how deeply his words had cut.
Maybe she wasn’t whole. Maybe she was a prisoner, caged in darkness and trapped within the King’s grasp, with no hope of escape.
But she was a monster, and monsters deserved pain.
She swallowed hard, forcing the tears back.
“Just…” Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “Please. Can we start?”
She didn’t breathe again until his fingertips grazed her chest. Her eyes slipped shut, bracing herself for the familiar burn.
She deserved this.
She deserved all of it.
A moment later, pain radiated through her body, pulsing beneath her skin as though it were trying to scorch its way out. Ellaryn squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to react, not to scream.
She would endure it. She had to.
Her body writhed beneath him, twisting against the mattress as though it no longer belonged to her. Then the images came.
Too many. Too fast.
Her head spun as blue sky and wisps of white cloud tore past, the world rushing beneath her as though she were soaring through the heavens. Then the city came into view.
But it was different… More vibrant. More alive.
Cinala.
The King rode Scornszar through the sky, circling above the city as families fled through the streets below. Flames consumed houses, smoke billowing into the sky as buildings burned to the ground.
Another vision.
Scornszar landed heavily on a castle balcony, and guards rushed towards the glass doors, swords already drawn.
The King barely moved. He flicked his fingers, and every weapon was ripped from their hands, clattering uselessly across the floor.
Then he reached for their souls.
Ellaryn watched in horror as something invisible tore from the guards’ bodies, twisting through the room like ribbons caught in a violent wind. They swirled around the King, dancing at his command, while the guards collapsed to their knees, clutching their chests and gasping for breath.
One by one, they shifted into Defiers, rising again only to follow him as he strode through the castle as though it already belonged to him.
Anyone who tried to stop him met the same fate.
The pain intensified with every step the King took. It somehow grew hotter. Sharper. Threatening to tear her apart.
Ellaryn clenched her jaw and bore it, tears streaming down her cheeks as her entire body trembled beneath the force of it.
Then two figures appeared. They backed away together, clutching one another as though they could somehow shield each other from what was coming.
Ellaryn recognised them—the old rulers of Cinala.
They whispered prayers, arms wrapped tightly around one another as the King approached, Defiers surrounding him on every side.
They never stood a chance.
The vision pulsed as fire crawled up Ellaryn’s neck, spreading beneath her skin before blooming behind her eyes.
The King raised his hands and then—
Nothing.
The pain vanished.
All at once, along with the vision.
Ellaryn sucked in a ragged breath, her lungs fighting to catch up as Xander’s hand lifted from her chest. She blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what she had seen.
Xander rose and walked towards his desk as though nothing had happened.
“What the fuck?” Ellaryn breathed, but he didn’t turn around. “I didn’t tap you.”
“That’s enough for today,” he said quietly.
“What?!” Ellaryn stormed over to him. “No, that can’t be it. I was fine. I can do more. I need to do more.”
“No, you don’t.” He said firmly, turning to face her. “You were burning up.”
She shook her head. “I was fine.”
“No, you weren’t.” He shook his head before searching in his drawer for something. Ellaryn followed him.
“Let’s go again,” she said, glancing over his shoulder.
He ignored her.
“Please, Xander. One more time.” She pulled his hands from the drawer, shutting it and forcing his focus on her.
“Godsdammit, Ellaryn!” Xander shouted, slamming his hand against the desk hard enough to make her jump. “Just leave it.”
“Leave it.” She used his words against him. “We have work to do. The clock is against us.”
“The clock can wait another day.”
“How can you say that?” She choked out, disbelief lacing her tone.
“Just listen to me, Ellaryn. You need to rest.”
“Don’t tell me what I need.” She held his gaze. “I need the King to die. I need Cinala to be safe. I need Sailen to be safe.” Her words cracked as they left, eyes stinging at the admission, as she prodded at her chest.
His eyes kept hers for a thick, suffocating moment before he tensed his jaw and broke away, lowering himself onto his chair.
“I think you should leave.” He said curtly, hands filtering through the clutter on the desk.
“We had a plan,” she said through gritted teeth, crossing her arms, but he ignored her again.
As Ellaryn’s eyes picked at his behaviour—the inability to meet her gaze, the harshness in his expression—anger burned in her chest. A burn that threatened to match the fire that lived at his fingertips.
But before she could let it take shape, she swallowed it. Bending it. Tucking it away because she knew releasing it would only push him away further.
Her fists clenched, nails biting into her palm in an attempt to smother the flames.
“I don’t need this.” She shook her head, turning on her heels before she did something she might regret. “Not today.”
He sighed. “Ellaryn… wait.”
Now it was her ignoring him.
She bit her tongue and walked straight out of the room, not stopping until her feet found themselves at the tavern.