Chapter 63
Carys
Iywan holds the book so close to my face that the words are barely visible. “Read it. In the common tongue this time.”
“I can’t see it!” I protest. I’m back to sitting in this damn chair after they let me loose for a moment to relieve my bladder. I am so bone-tired that I could probably fall asleep in this.
Iywan pulls the book back a small distance. Two guards, plus Briony and Eefa, stand nearby. “What does it say?”
“It says that you are a pretentious bastard.”
I expect him to strike me, but he does something even worse. He summons Eefa.
She practically skips to his side like an overeager child. Her dagger is in her hand before Iywan can say anything else.
“Read,” Iywan repeats.
I glimpse something animalistic in Eefa’s eyes, sending my heart leaping into my throat.
“Alright, fine.” I fix my focus on Iywan for a moment before taking in the text.
“It says that the mighty shall fall with the coming of the new age. The Heirs of Dusk and Embers shall rise again and dismantle the very foundation of the realm.” I shrug a shoulder.
Iywan stares at me for the longest while, and I cannot figure out what’s going through his mind. He doesn’t turn away from me. He simply says Eefa’s name.
Without hesitation, she slices through the sleeve of my tunic. The blade grazes my skin, and I hiss from the sting. The upper portion of my sleeve is fully ripped open, blood bright against my pale skin.
I glare at Iywan. “I read you the passage!”
“You’re lying.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He only glances at Eefa, and she slices swiftly just below the last cut. I grit my teeth as more bright red blooms.
“Read it properly,” says Iywan.
I grunt. “That passage isn’t even important, you idiot! I earmarked it because that’s where I left off.”
He crouches so that his face is close to mine and says, “Then tell me what is important.”
“How am I supposed to know what’s important when you haven’t explained a thing to me?”
He straightens and, as Eefa lunges to mar me again, Iywan catches her wrist. She pouts but lowers the dagger, and I release a breath.
“It was said that the daughter of Agryna will restore power to Erleya—and the only way to do that is by piercing the Veil of Fiada Purlieu,” Iywan says.
Shit, I still can’t believe this is true. My stomach squirms.
“As far as everyone knows, the magical bloodline ended with the royals a millennium ago, yet here you are. A Flamewielder, in the flesh.” Iywan gestures vaguely to me.
“What clued you in that I’m a Flamewielder? Not even I knew.”
“After I discovered that you could read the Ancient Tongue, it narrowed things down. It’s in your bloodline. Not to mention that your mother gave you the necklace after Aneirin mysteriously died in an accident, and you haven’t taken it off since.”
My stomach sours and I force myself to swallow. I grit my teeth against my brother’s screams in my head.
“The stench of smoke lingered for days around the time of Aneirin’s death. Yet, no one could remember there being a fire. I suppose that’s Morwenna’s particular skillset.” He lets out a dry chuckle and scratches his chin. “It was you reading the Ancient Tongue that triggered my memory again.”
I fight to keep my breathing steady.
“The texts declare that a Mage of royal blood has the ability to tear down those wards and summon the Enchantress Queen, just as she’d summoned the Underling Prince a thousand years ago.”
“So … you think I can tear down the wards and summon Enidwen?”
“Yes, and as a reward for her release, you will obtain ultimate power. Enidwen’s spirit fused with the Underling Prince’s, so you’d have twice the power that either of them ever had.
And this time, there are no Heirs of Dusk and Embers to stop your reign.
You will be not only the queen, but the empress of the realm. Erleya will be invincible.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You’ve forgotten one very important detail about that story.
When Enidwen released the Underling Prince, he overpowered her.
She no longer had control. What makes you think that the combined spirits of Enidwen and the Underling Prince won’t overpower me?
More importantly, what makes you think I even want this? ”
His oily smile makes my skin crawl. “Because, Princess, this time her spirit will be tethered to a mortal body with a conduit.”
My brows draw close before the metal band on my wrist grows heavier. My pulse triples. “Conduit … is that what’s on my wrist?” My voice hitches and I wince at the sound.
“First, tell me what the prophecy says.”
“Didn’t you just tell me the prophecy?”
“I told you the redacted version that’s known by anyone who still believes the words of the ancient oracles.”
Part of me wants to tell him. To end this all.
To find out what this device on my wrist does.
But his desperation indicates that the information is clearly important for his twisted mission to open the Veil.
I can’t let that happen, I can’t let him unleash Enidwen or let her infiltrate me.
The Book of Agryna spoke of the moon and sun falling if the Veil were opened.
It could be symbolic, but there is no room for risks.
I’ve caused enough messes in my twenty-one years—I refuse to destroy the world.
Iywan glances at the sadist beside him. “Eefa—”
She eagerly slices into my arm, right through the last two cuts. I grit my teeth and keep my focus away from the pain.
“What does the prophecy say?” Iywan asks.
“That the daughter of Agryna shall restore power to—”
More pain. I clench my teeth and breathe through the searing sensation. Blood darkens my light grey tunic and my vision blurs.
“Cutting me over and over again isn’t going to change what the book says,” I grind out.
Another slice, this time through my trousers. The blade nicks my thigh but it’s nothing compared to the slashes on my arm.
“Keep going until she tells the truth,” Iywan instructs.
Bile rises into my throat. They’re never going to stop.
Eefa grins as she presses the point of the blade into my upper thigh.
I steel my resolve and imagine myself far away, on a ship in the middle of the ocean, gazing out at the beautiful blue waters.
Still, pain tears through my leg as Eefa languidly pushes the knife deeper and deeper and deeper.
I bite my lip and a coppery tang springs onto my tongue.
My heart threatens to burst from my chest, and a strangled cry of pain fills the space.
It takes a while before I realize that the screams are coming from me. Tears pour down my cheeks, and the dagger slowly sinking into my thigh encompasses all my thoughts. I clench my jaw, cutting off the scream and emitting a prolonged, almost animalistic grunt instead.
“She can’t bloody think if you’re shoving a blade into her leg!” Briony yells.
Eefa yanks the blade from my flesh and blood spurts, drawing another scream from me.
Briony swears colorfully as she rushes to my side, pushing Eefa away. “You’ve severed an artery, you doltish girl,” she says, casting a heated glance at Eefa while she presses her hand against my leg.
I bite back another cry.
Eefa shrugs. “Good thing we have a Healer around.”
Briony glances sidelong at her as a pale blue light glows around her hands. The pain slowly dissolves, leaving behind a faint throbbing. Then Briony rocks back onto her ankles and stares silently at my newly healed leg, trying to regain her own composure as I try to regain mine.
I’m dizzy and heavy-limbed, barely able to register what’s happening as Briony reaches for my injured arm.
“Leave those.” Iywan’s voice is cold.
Briony balks. “With all due respect, Master Iywan, we’re not going to get much out of her if she’s in pain.”
Master Iywan?
“Quite the contrary, Briony,” he says. “This one only responds to pain.”
This time, my solitude is short. I try to focus on anything other than the sense of foreboding and the pain, but the situation is hopeless.
Finally, everyone files back into the room.
First, Iywan, Eefa, and Briony. Then Cadet Aela and Lieutenant Bronn enter, dragging a tall man between them, his hands behind his back and chained, judging from the sound of the metallic jangle.
I take in the brawny figure beneath the maroon livery of the Queen’s Guards, but there’s no black sash, meaning he’s …
My guard.
No no no. Not Callum. My heart skips a beat, panic rushing through my blood as I meet his uneven, tormented, bloodshot gaze.
He winces as he attempts to stand fully, but his knees buckle, wrenching his shoulders as the guards hold him up. Blood mats his ashy blond hair and smears his grimy face. His right eye is swollen shut, but his good eye holds such intensity.
“Princess,” he chokes out, and the soldiers yank on his shackles, overarching his back. Callum grits his teeth, breathing harshly, but he doesn’t cry out. “Don’t tell them anything,” he says. His voice is gravelly, nearly unrecognizable.
I sit up straighter, my chest too tight, my stomach sour.
Callum is hardly able to stand on his own.
There must be so much damage hidden beneath his uniform.
What have they done to him? What will they do to him?
The heavy rasp of his breathing fills the space, and with each intake of breath, pain crosses his face.
I tug hard against my bonds.
“Are you ready to cooperate now, Princess?” Iywan asks.
If I don’t cooperate, they’re going to hurt Callum. Or worse.
Iywan glances at Eefa and she steps toward Callum, her dagger at the ready. I yank against my bonds again silently, as if I can jump from this chair and whisk Callum away.
“Don’t touch him.” My voice is a mere whisper, my eyes stinging. I tear my gaze away from Eefa and Callum, forcing myself to focus on Iywan again.
He isn’t even recognizable to me anymore. The coldness, the hatred—how could this be the same man who’d once been like a father to me?
“What does the prophecy say?” he asks. “The full prophecy, in the common tongue.”
My chest tightens more, but I know I have to say something to give Callum a chance. Maybe a half truth. “It says that the daughter of Agryna and Ehlach will restore balance to the realm.” I leave out the part where the entire prophecy is in The Song of Moonlight.
“Agryna and Ehlach?” Iywan asks.
I nod. “Yes, now let him go.”
“Is that the whole prophecy?”
I nod again. “Yes. And everything you’ve already said. The Heirs. The Daughters. Let Callum go. He doesn’t know anything.”
Iywan glances over his shoulder, and I know what will happen before it even does. Eefa sets the knife against Callum’s throat, and he strains to get as far away from her as possible.
“Don’t!” I blurt. My breaths come in quick bursts, my pulse hammering behind my eyes, my vision turning wavery. “The prophecy in The Book of Agryna is incomplete.” My mouth waters as I speak, and I swallow, afraid I’ll be sick. “The rest of the prophecy is in another book.”
Iywan straightens, his brows arched. Briony and Eefa appear equally intrigued. “Which book?” Iywan asks.
I can’t tell them. I can’t … “I don’t know.”
Iywan lifts his hand, and as I draw in a breath to protest, Eefa presses the blade against Callum’s throat, the soldiers holding him tighter. I yank so hard against my bonds that my arse leaves the seat. “Eefa, please!”
She sneers. “Oh, now you beg?”
Callum’s full attention is on me, his broad chest rising and falling rapidly with each shallow intake of breath. A single tear rolls down his cheek, carving a path through the blood and grime.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice breaking as I fight the urge to spill the truth. To spare Callum’s life.
“I have no regrets,” he says calmly.
“Callum—”
“I will love you even in death.”
A deep-rooted ache tears through my tightening chest, and I grapple for that power Briony has been coaching me to use. If I can just get a hold of it. If I can figure out how to wield the flames, I can maybe, maybe get us out of here.
Please, gods. Please Agryna. Please.
At first, nothing happens. Callum’s muscles are taut as he’s held firmly by the soldiers, as Eefa’s knife remains against his skin.
But then Iywan raises a hand. Everything slows as Eefa carves a deliberate line across his throat.
I scream for her to stop, as if it would do anything to staunch the blood that rushes down his neck and drenches his livery.
The coward that I am, I shut my eyes. I don’t want this to be my last image of him. I don’t want to witness the life drained from his body. A nauseating gurgle emits from where he stood before a heavy thud sounds.
Each forceful beat of my heart pumps remorse and sorrow into my blood, until my body is so heavy that I’m certain I’ll sink right through the chair. There is no sound except for the screaming in my head and the roaring of my pulse in my ears.
When I dare to open my eyes again, Callum is slumped on the floor. A puddle of scarlet spreads around him.
First Ellynne …
Now … Callum …
Guilt, regret, and sorrow wrench tears from me, the silent sobs trapped in my heaving chest, threatening to strangle me. A surge of nausea rushes up from my stomach. I hunch over in the chair as bile scorches its way out of my throat.
Briony steps toward me, and I don’t even feel her touch before merciful darkness takes me.