Chapter 87
Ksee’s nails bit into Anniliese’s arm. A whimper of pain slipped past her teeth.
“Quiet,” Ksee snarled, wrenching Anniliese closer. They hid amongst the few birch trees that hadn’t been burned to ash, shrouded by shrubs and vines that hadn’t been scorched.
Anniliese’s fire had done that. Had caused all that destruction. Had killed this beautiful forest, had burned that lovely cottage to the ground, had destroyed the stacked bodies of those who dared to question Kol.
She hated it. More than she had ever hated anything ever before.
Even more than she hated the vile priestess beside her, hissing in her ear.
Anniliese peered through the brush. There was just enough of a gap to make out the ruins of the Salis home and the seven figures in the clearing outside it. One of them—a tall young woman with dark hair and wrath on her face—stepped forward, a short sword and a dagger gripped in either hand.
Anniliese swallowed. Mariah. The queen had taken Kol’s bait.
It was what Anniliese had hoped for. But that had been before she’d seen how deep Kol’s plans went. She’d hoped then that Mariah would see. Would recognize that this was all a carefully laid trap set for her since the very beginning.
Anniliese didn’t know Mariah well, but something told her that even if the young queen knew, she still would’ve come. This was her home. This was about her family.
It was why Kol had chosen it, after all. Because even knowing all the risks, even seeing how obvious it was, Kol knew that Mariah would come.
Mariah spoke, her words too soft to reach Anniliese’s ears. She raised her weapons, rocking back on her heels.
Anniliese heard the snarl that exploded from the queen’s throat as she launched herself forward, the honed tip of her dagger aimed for Kol’s heart.
Anniliese held her breath. It was almost as if time slowed. She didn’t think Kol could die from any mortal wound, but what if? What if there was something Mariah knew that none of the rest of them did? What if that was why she’d dared to come?
Ksee’s nails dug deeper into Anniliese’s skin, but she hardly felt the pain. Not as Mariah’s knife grew closer and closer to Kol’s chest—
Shadows billowed. One moment, Kol was there, less than a foot from Mariah’s dagger. The next, he was six feet away, red-gold eyes gleaming with his particular brand of madness.
His mouth moved, voice again too low for Anniliese to hear. His palms opened, a dark grin tugging at his lips.
Anniliese’s heartbeat quickened as shadows pooled off Kol’s hands. They didn’t spread, but instead wound together, coiling and tightening and sharpening. His fingers gripped the ends, settling into a fighting stance as he lifted his weapons.
His shadow weapons.
Mariah, to her credit, hardly paused. She simply whirled, that wild expression still on her face, and charged at the god again.
Their weapons met in a muffled clash, like steel striking wood.
Ksee leaned closer, breath tickling Anniliese’s cheek.
She fought the urge to flinch. The priestess was enraptured by the duel unfolding before them.
Mariah and Kol took turns striking and parrying, their movements dizzyingly fast. Their weapons were little more than a blur as they carved through the air, so precise that Anniliese was sure that either one of them could end this.
She found herself holding her breath each time Mariah drove her weapons forward, and gritting her teeth when Kol drove his.
She remembered a time when she hated the young queen. She certainly had no reason to love her now. Yet even when faced with atrocities, Mariah had still extended her hand to Anniliese.
Even when Anniliese didn’t know what she would face in her future, somehow Mariah had known, and tried to save her from it.
So Anniliese hoped that Mariah’s blade would be faster.
Their deadly dance continued—for how long, Anniliese couldn’t have begun to guess. The longer they went on, the longer Anniliese and Ksee watched from the shadows of the ruined forest, the clearer one thing became.
Mariah was better.
Not by much. She still fought an ageless god, a being crafted from the very foundations of their world. But when was the last time said god had fought? The last time he’d had to wield his blades of shadow against another?
Which also begged the question: why didn’t he just shift?
“Because,” Ksee hissed. Anniliese jumped, pulse hammering in her throat. She hadn’t meant to ask that last question out loud.
“Because this is your final test,” Ksee continued. “Kol knew it would come to a fight. Knew he would be at a disadvantage. In his infinite wisdom, he saw it all.”
“A test?” Anniliese asked weakly. Another clash rang out.
Kol grunted with exertion. No longer was he smiling; his expression had settled firmly into a snarl.
His gaze darted to his left; not toward where Anniliese and Ksee hid amongst the underbrush, but to the winged demons lurking in the shadows.
With savage cries and the rustle of leathery wings, Kol’s mudae launched into the fray, serrated claws aimed for Mariah’s exposed back.
Anniliese forced herself to bite back her cry. Turn around, turn around, turn around—
Two other figures saw Kol’s signal.
The two Armature Mariah had arrived with—including Andrian Laurent—intercepted the mudae with a swiftness that came only from years of training.
Arrows fired in quick succession by the second Armature thumped onto the chests of the first two demons, slowing them enough for Andrian’s sword to cleave their heads from their necks.
The clearing erupted into chaos.
“Now is the time,” Ksee hissed again, louder now over the din of the fight. “While the false queen is distracted. Prove yourself to your new god.”
Anniliese whirled, wrenching herself from Ksee’s clutches. Her skin tore where Ksee’s nails had dug into her skin, but she hardly felt the sting. “What are you talking about?”
A mad rage filled Ksee’s hateful, muddied stare. “Your fire, girl. Burn the queen, just as you did all those other heathens who failed to bow to our supreme. Give Kol his victory, once and for all.”
Something in Anniliese snapped into place.
She’d done terrible things. To keep herself alive, yes, but that was a selfish reason. She’d bowed and buckled and folded at every turn, hiding behind the cloak of self-preservation.
But what was the point of surviving all this, of living to see tomorrow, if she couldn’t bear to live with herself?
She met Ksee’s stare unflinchingly, the first time she’d ever done so.
“Why?” Anniliese asked softly. “Have I not done enough? Why does someone as powerful as him need this from me?”
Ksee snarled. Her hand moved fast, like a viper striking. Her palm met Anniliese’s cheek in a sharp blow, pain blooming across her jaw.
“How dare you question me and your god?” The priestess gripped the hair at the base of Anniliese’s scalp, wrenching back her chin.
“After everything we have given you? We could have sacrificed you with the others long ago. And instead of loyalty, you defy me?” Spittle flung from Ksee’s mouth, the lines around her lips cracked and spreading.
Anniliese didn’t flinch. Didn’t cry out. She simply held Ksee’s stare, something hot and bubbling rising in her stomach.
Rage. It was rage, she whispered to herself.
She could be scared tomorrow. But right now, all she had was rage.
“If you want her dead so badly,” Anniliese said, her voice quiet and steady, “why don’t you use your magic and do it yourself?”
“You brat!” Ksee’s free hand arched through the air. Her nails—the same ones that had dug into Anniliese’s arm—scratched across her face. This time, Anniliese had to muffle her soft cry.
“I swore off Qhohena’s polluted magic long ago.
” Ksee gripped Anniliese’s chin. “But you are a filthy little thing, so willing to throw yourself at anyone we told you to. So willing to do whatever stupid thing we commanded out of petty jealousy or just to save your own skin. You are polluted at your core. Kol knew he could use you for this magic of yours, until the very point you outlived your usefulness.” Her eyes flashed, hints of the flames she buried flickering in their depths.
“Maybe that moment is right now.”
Ksee released her chin. Her hand slid behind her back, her mouth pulling to a wild, mad grin.
This was it.
This would be her end.
Anniliese stifled a sigh. Maybe it was time. She deserved this, after all. The chance to rest, the chance to no longer bear this guilt weighing her down like a pallet of bricks.
Ksee gripped the handle of her ceremonial dagger. A muffled sob broke through the racket of battle.
Anniliese glanced back toward the madness. The sound had come from the girl with curly blonde hair, bound and gagged at the edge of the clearing near their hiding place. One of Mariah’s Ladies, she’d heard Shawth say. A useful prize, even if she failed as leverage.
Tears streaked down the girl’s face as she struggled against her bonds. Just like the broad-shouldered man beside her.
They were defenseless, weaponless, silenced. And still, the two of them fought. Fought to escape their binds, fought to join their queen.
Fought for the idea of a better future. One free of violence and oppression and all this endless, tormented fear.
A memory stirred in Anniliese’s mind: the last time she saw her father, he’d pressed the hilt of a tiny blade into her palm.
None of us are free, Anniliese. Freedom is a myth for people like you and me.
Maybe this myth could be one she made real.
Anniliese didn’t think.
Her body moved on its own accord. Anniliese’s hand slid into the folds of her flimsy robes, finding the delicate blade tucked beneath her underclothes, right along her ribs.
She gripped the smooth handle and slid it free.
There was no hesitation, no pause to her movements, not a single flicker of regret or remorse or guilt. She aimed the dagger where it counted.
Right into the soft flesh of Ksee’s neck. Right where her pulse pounded in her throat.
The priestess’s eyes flew wide. Warmth gushed over Anniliese’s hands, splattering the front of her dirty robes. Deep red coated Ksee’s chest, and for a moment Anniliese thought about how beautiful it was. How much better the red suited her, such an improvement from the gold or the white.
Ksee slumped forward, her knees hitting the ashes of the Ivory Forest. She twitched a few more times as her blood nourished the earth she’d help destroy, until finally she fell still, that small knife still embedded in her throat.
Anniliese watched her for a few long moments. The battle behind her rose and rose, the screeches of mudae filling her ears. She waited for the regret, the shame, to come.
When it never did, Anniliese faced the clearing and stepped into the sunlight.