Chapter 24 #2
He gave me a look that told me he’d show up in my room before too long, but settled back in. Unless I was mistaken, the twins had precious little time just the two of them, and after the death of a friend, they deserved some time by themselves.
As we left the tavern, the quiet of the night was at odds with the din from inside. The streets were mostly empty, our footsteps echoing along the cobblestone paths.
“The walk down is always so much easier than the walk back up,” Freya complained. “And you basically lose your buzz by the time you get back up here.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing, at least for me,” I mused. “Probably shouldn’t be publicly intoxicated. The whole ‘unbefitting of a princess’ thing.”
“Don’t let your stick-in-the-mud asshole of a grandfather get to you,” Freya responded, rightly guessing who I was parodying. “Besides, who cares what he thinks?”
I grinned, but decided to share. “Most of the time I don’t. But sometimes, I very much want his approval.” It must have been the alcohol talking; I didn’t usually let myself think like that.
Freya put her arm around my shoulders and gave me a friendly squeeze. “That makes sense. Given he’s the only family you have here.”
“An asshole family,” I muttered, and she laughed.
“But the real question is,” Freya started slyly, “what’s going on between you and Griff?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“He was teasing you. Griff never teases anyone.”
“He wasn’t teasing me,” I protested. “Besides he teases you and Finn as well.”
She waved a hand. “That’s different. He’s known us forever. He doesn’t tease people he’s met recently.” She held up her hand to stifle my protest. “Recently for Griff is anything over a decade. And I know teasing when I see it, and that was teasing. He likes you.”
I snorted. “He doesn’t like me. He just likes pounding me into the mat while sparring.”
“I don’t think that’s the only place he wants to pound you.”
“Freya!”
Her eyes twinkled.
“Besides, he told Finn that we were just friends.”
She pursed her lips. “I’ve seen Griff with ‘just friends’ before, and believe me, it looks nothing like this.”
I tried to ignore the warmth that spread through me with her comment.
Talk turned to debating whether or not Finn would succumb to Nuala’s charms and what bed he’d be sleeping in tonight.
We were still fairly far from the castle grounds, and as we passed under a covered walkway, a faint sob sounded off to the left—not just a cry, but a broken, desperate plea that cut straight to my chest.
Freya and I shared a glance and ran toward the sound. I stopped cold. Two men stood over a woman, pinning her down. She was crying out, struggling futilely against her stronger perpetrator as the second moved between her tossed-up skirts.
I shoved Freya behind me and drew my sword. “Stop what you’re doing right now.” My voice was low but deadly.
His companion froze, but the attacker stood, adjusting himself with casual indifference. The girl—she couldn’t be more than sixteen—huddled in the corner, blood on her torn dress, her eyes wide with a terror that I recognized all so well. My anger consumed me.
“Ah, it’s the little princess.”
That familiar voice sent a shard of ice through my heart as he turned, slowly, deliberately. That same twisted smile. Those same cold eyes. My fear since I’d heard he’d escaped had just come true. I positioned my body more fully in front of Freya.
Cillian’s face twisted into a vile grin as he stepped away from the girl. She shrank back farther, as if she could disappear into the wall itself. If I could just draw the men away…
“Figures the little princess would ruin my fun. My friend”—he gestured behind him—“has been patiently waiting his turn, and now there are two of you. How perfect.”
How could Zachariah have let filth like this escape and roam free, able to attack the innocent? I shoved the thought aside as I circled, taking Freya with me, trying to draw the men away, but they circled in different directions.
“Freya, take her and run!” I shoved her behind me again, sending flames blazing down the blade.
Cillian scoffed. “A party trick.”
“You think so? Let’s find out.” My voice was filled with a confidence I didn’t feel.
His companion spun toward Freya. She kicked out, but her long skirts hindered her. No. I’d had enough of seeing my friends in danger today.
“Get back!” I roared, and the earth itself answered my cry. Cobblestones cracked and exploded as fire erupted in a blazing barrier, the flames reaching toward the covered walkway’s ceiling.
Cillian’s laughter echoed off the stones. “You think your party tricks will stop me? You should know your enemy, little princess.” He stepped through my fire, his own flames wrapped around him as armor. His companion followed, both of them grinning in that vile way.
Fine. If flames wouldn’t stop them, I would use everything else.
More stones cracked as I called up my earth channel. Vines covering the walls stretched forward and wrenched his companion back against the wall with a sickening thud, strapping him against the stone.
“Did I hear you just declare yourself as my enemy?”
He shrugged and laughed. “Does it matter? Powerful people want you dealt with. If it’s not me, it’ll be someone else. At least I get another crack at you first. He was sorely disappointed by my last attempt.”
His companion handled, for the time being, my goal was to get Cillian away from Freya and the girl.
Freya had gotten her standing but Cillian lobbed a ball of flame straight at them.
He laughed as the fire licked at their skirts.
He raised his hand, the flames jumping higher and higher, trying to crawl ever closer to my friend.
Freya had leapt back, only slightly singed, but the servant girl wasn’t so lucky.
The flames licked higher up the girl’s dress and she screamed, a sound of pure agony that shattered something fundamental inside me.
This broken child, this innocent who had already suffered so much, was now burning because of my failure to act fast enough.
“Enough!” The word tore from my throat as my fire channel burst open, allowing me to take control of the flames.
Taking in the burn marks on the girl, a rage like I’d never known flooded through me.
A barrier that had been holding me back snapped.
Fire, earth, air, and raw power swirled through me in a torrent of fury.
I threw my sword on the ground with a clatter of metal as I brought up a different kind of fire—a pure-white furnace, hotter than anything Cormac had ever used—erupted around us.
But it would only burn those I demanded it burn.
The earth opened and swallowed Cillian’s feet, trapping him in place. He let out a cry of surprise and then one of panic as I strode toward him.
“Flames will not burn you, you say. Try these.” I didn’t recognize my voice.
It was deadly calm, and whatever he saw in my face made his eyes widen in panic.
As he struggled, vines like the ones that still held his companion stretched out to capture his limbs.
My mind channel crushed his attempts to channel his own power.
I felt the strangest sense of glee, watching him struggle.
I was no longer me. I had given in to my power, and in so doing, lost myself.
“You threaten the innocent.” I took a step forward. “You threaten me.” Another step. “You are too great a risk to keep alive.” The third step put me within his potential grasp, but he would never again touch me, touch anyone.
“Your highness, I repent.” He held up his hands hastily, attempting a penitent look.
I looked at him, truly looked at him, with my soul channel fully open. And what I saw in there made up my mind. “No,” I said sadly. “You don’t.”
The look disappeared, and he spat with true malice. “You little bitch! You’ll rue the day—”
I clenched my hand, and the flames closed in tighter and tighter around him. These flames were primal and hungry and solely obeyed my command. They would even burn another fire wielder.
He struggled against the stones trapping his feet, but the earth would not budge.
There was no way to outrun fury given form.
He tried to scream as the fire consumed him, his own flames turned against him and amplified beyond his control.
I felt his death through the earth as his body collapsed and was devoured, leaving nothing but ash.
I glanced at his companion, his image rippling in the heat of the flames, still struggling with the vines. My soul channel was still fully open, and I knew there was no saving him either. With a thought, vines snaked over his neck, and he stopped struggling.
The white fire disappeared as if someone had blown out a candle, the sudden absence leaving me feeling bereft. Empty. With the feeling of free fall, I returned to myself.
I fell to my knees, staring at my hands blankly. They were still my hands, but they had just taken two lives.
I was going to be sick.
Freya crawled over to me. There was a mixture of fear and pity on my friend’s face. She reached toward me but stopped before making contact, her hands shaking and hovering in place.
I looked up at her, almost unseeing. “I killed them.” The words fell from my lips, sending ripples of horror through me. “And I enjoyed it.” The admission came out as a whisper, and I waited for her to recoil from the monster I had become. “What does that make me?”
She went to take my hands. “Lexie—”
“Don’t!” I screamed, scooting backward on my hands and knees. “It’s still there, below the surface. What if I hurt you? What if I can’t control it?”
She couldn’t touch me. Not like this. Not with all of this death all over me.
She was crying, but her voice was oddly steady. “Lexie, it’s okay. You do not have death all over you.”
I must have spoken those words out loud.
“You saved us both.” She grabbed both of my hands with hers and drew me toward her.
I didn’t hurt her. My hands didn’t hurt her.