Chapter Fourteen #2
Matching its fury and desperation, Solana stretched out a hand and scrambled for the sword embedded in its shoulder.
The blade sliced at her fingers and palm until she finally got enough of a grip to tear it free.
Then she dragged the useless blade across the muki’s throat.
Brackish blood poured onto her hand as she brought the blade back and did it again and again, until the head was hanging on by a sliver of a tendon and Solana’s vision was barely there.
It dropped her at the same time its head toppled to the side, and both of their bodies thudded to the ground.
Air begrudgingly squeezed through Solana’s swollen throat. The muki’s head had rolled to a stop an arm’s length away, and the cold of shadows swarmed over them both as its body dissipated back to Uku Pacha.
There was no grief or sorrow or relief that came with this type of kill. No despair or gratitude or understanding so deep it drowned her. The muki was dead but not gone, simply returned to the underworld until it respawned in a newly made body.
From somewhere far-off, she heard clapping, and then the king said, “Again.”
On her back, Solana saw the doors to the training room open for a second time and a muki bound into the room.
She groaned and rolled out of the way just in time to miss the swipe of the smaller creature, this one with longer arms and a neck that twisted all the way around so that it could see her wherever she went.
She stayed on the ground, twisting and rolling and dodging as best as possible, but she was injured and oxygen-deprived and overall tired.
Without her dagger or Sami at her side, she was at a severe disadvantage.
“Use your gift, Solana,” King Killian ordered. “That’s the only way you survive this.”
Her gift. The one she hadn’t known she had. The one that Reyes had tricked her into using once already.
It hit her like a punch to the gut; this wasn’t punishment.
It was another test. It had never been about her ability to hunt and dispatch, or her inability to follow orders.
He wanted her to lose control so that she had no other choice than to command.
He was forcing her to harness that gift to save her own life.
Like a fool, Solana had believed she was there because of her prowess in the hunt.
Because she was being recognized for the work she had done for the last fourteen years.
King Killian was just another person who wanted something from her, which was just as well, because she would get what she wanted, too.
Right then, she wanted her dagger. She wanted to end this.
How dare the king use her struggle and suffering as entertainment.
That dagger was hers. It had belonged to her father before her, and her mother had given it to her to carry with pride.
Nobody could take it from her, and neither would she allow a man to use it to weaken her.
Like stones falling into place, Solana closed her eyes and reached into the places within her that felt tethered.
She felt the demon and its movements and dodged them as easily as breathing.
She felt the heat of her dagger and its burning desire to be held.
She heard the whispering dark and invited it closer.
Blazing metal slammed into her hand. A cool mist rushed over her skin and enveloped her whole. Solana opened her eyes, and she was face-to-face with the muki, peering into the depths of its soulless eyes and seeing only herself reflected. Then she slammed her dagger into its neck.
With all her might, she pushed and pushed until her hands were covered in brown blood, until she was knuckles-deep in its throat, until the dagger severed tendon and muscle and bone and the muki dropped like a rock to the ground and took her with it.
This time, Solana knew it was dead by the wave of anguish that pulled her under, that stole her breath and made her eyes water.
It was full of rage, this creature, overflowing with suppressed hatred and resentment and a burning thirst for vengeance. It flowed through Solana like a flood, filling up all the spaces she had left empty to save herself.
Loneliness burned away to ire.
Grief disintegrated into indignation.
Anger stoked into wrath.
And then she heard one word, a word she had heard endlessly in her dreams.
?akapana.
It was a wash of cool water over her soul, but it was the dagger that offered her comfort. That stung her hand and tethered her to the mortal realm. That reminded her who she truly was.
“Beautiful,” she heard the king say, his voice like a warning bell in her mind.
Someone slipped their arms under Solana’s and dragged her backward.
There was a pop at her side, bone cracking and flesh shredding as something tore free, and then cool hands were on her face.
“Look at me,” Reyes said, gently cradling her head, forcing her eyes to find his. “Solana, look at me,” he repeated.
Slowly, she blinked away the shadows and found Reyes’s face.
This close, she could only see his somber eyes and the thick lashes that rimmed them.
Concern bled from the creases at the corners.
They darted frantically between hers, searching just like they had so many times before.
She hoped he would see her rage, her resentment.
Because somehow, though he had sold her out to the king, she felt his hands hold her still and felt safe.
Clung to him as if he were a boulder in the middle of a raging sea.
“I’m taking her,” she heard him say. The features of his face drifted away, and then she was moving, every part of her body screaming in protest that fell on deaf ears. Perhaps because she wasn’t protesting at all.
In fact, Solana thought she might be dying, and there was nothing she could do about it as she lost hold of the light.