30. Diar #2
The blades shattered into shards of ice, then reformed in my hands. Throwing myself forward, I lunged at Quinn. His threads whirled around him, reforging into a sword that blocked my strike.
I slammed my blades against his—a golden sword composed of light.
Just like the assassin had wielded, that night.
Quinn slipped away from me, and I gave chase. We traded blows, magicked blades clashing against one another with an unearthly ring.
Our battle didn't last long, but it was enough. Enough to tell this wasn't the man who'd taken my brother's life—his movements were slow and powerful, practiced and careful—nothing like the lithe dancer I'd glimpsed through the smoke.
Wind erupted between us, forcing us apart. Quinn slid back through the snow and looked up with a sneer.
"Turning traitor, Ferris?" He called.
Stiffening, I twisted my neck to look behind. Ferris stood beneath a glowing crystal, hand outstretched. The emerald dragon floated at his side.
"You didn't know, did you?" Quinn said, breathing heavily. "That Ferris was one of us."
My teeth ground together. "And who is 'us'"
"Who else?" Quinn lowered his blade. "The people who should be your allies. We who killed the Emperor."
Blood pounded in my ears, drowning out the world. Hot, fiery rage boiled inside me.
How dare he? How dare he claim to be my ally when his people had taken my brother's life? They would have killed me, too, had Akemi not pulled me from my burning room.
I threw myself at Quinn again, but the raging wind tore us apart. I tried to fight the gale, but for every step forward I took, I slid two steps back.
Quinn shouted above the storm. "You're a dead woman walking, Diar. They're going to murder you to free Siotha."
"Where is he?" I shouted, ignoring him. "Where is the man who killed my brother?"
"Your brother saw potential in you." Quinn held up a hand to block the storm. "I see it, too. That's why he trained you."
"And now it's all for nothing! Giving me Siotha signed my death sentence."
"Only if you let it! I gave you the ability to fight."
'When Cierthine made its choice,' Quinn had said. "The world began to crack. But you, Diar? You're going to break it.'
I was a pawn in some scheme. My brother's death had been nothing to them. Fuel to the fire.
Screaming against the gale, I crossed the gap between us, knives thrusting forward to sink into Quinn's chest.
The storm erupted. My back struck the snow before I realized what had happened. Unable to breathe, I felt around for the daggers I'd dropped as I pulled myself up.
Gasping for breath, I looked for my enemy. Quinn was gone.
But Ferris was not.
Grabbing my knives, I flew at him. My body struck his, and we landed on the ground in a tangle. Pressing one of Siotha's icy blades to his throat, I stared down at him, mouth torn in a snarl.
"You!" I choked, still out of breath. "You did protect the assassin."
The wind that had thrown me away from the Solheart who'd tried to kill Aenir's king—it had been Ferris all along.
And I'd fallen for his lies.
"What's your game?" I demanded. "Pretending to help the city you plan to slaughter?"
"I'm not with them!" Ferris rolled his head away from the press of the blade. "I knew nothing about this. Whoever's orchestrating these attacks is working against orders."
His words sounded sincere. Horrified, disgusted. But I knew nothing of how to glean the truth in people's hearts.
"But you protected the assassin," I said between gritted teeth. "Protected Quinn. Why?"
"Because they're . . . " He broke off.
They're my allies.
Ferris would have been a child when the Emperor died—no more capable than I had been. He had nothing to do with my brother's killers—even if he worked with them, now.
My hand trembled on the frigid daggers.
"Let me explain," Ferris breathed. “I—”
"I don't want to hear it." I pulled my dagger from his throat and stood.
The other Paragons were still in danger. The blood pounding in my ears made it impossible to think. To decide to take a life I'd been intent on protecting mere moments ago.
I turned from Ferris and ran back toward the grove. He called after me.
"Quinn's right. You deserve Siotha. Don't let them take it from you."
His words echoed in my head as the shadowed trees drew closer. A figure in ebony armor burst from between the trunks, movements frenzied. Fleeing from something or someone.
He noticed me moments before we collided and side-stepped, swinging his blade toward my throat.
My body reacted, remembering my training. Dodging the lethal strike, I responded in kind, swiping my daggers across his throat.
Two red lines appeared on his neck, and blood spewed from them.
The cold seized my limbs as his body hit the ground.
I'd killed a man. For years, I'd practiced for this moment, but . . .
Dropping to my knees, I ripped his helmet off. Bluish black hair spilled loose. Dull, ocean-blue eyes peered at me, lifeless.
This was one of my people, an Iceborn of Muirashi.
Ferris, the Stormborns’ prince, was with them, too.
Whoever sought our deaths went beyond a handful of Solhearts. Fingers trembling, I swiped my index finger through his blood, smearing it in crimson. Touching my finger to Siotha's ice-cold blade, I watched as the blood hardened into a crystal. And came to a decision.
I'd fight—but not the way Quinn wanted. I'd track down every man involved in this organization. Akemi might have been a mere pawn to them, a meaningless death among hundreds.
But he would become their undoing. I would fill his shatterblade necklace with their blood.
Rising, I slipped the blood of my first kill into the folds of my robes and ran toward my next victim.