Chapter Thirty-Seven #2
Under any other circumstance she would have laughed, but death weighed heavy on her soul. Reyes’s presence was steadying as they strode forward, through the crowd that had gathered at the center of Qhilli where their daily market was held.
They parted when they caught sight of her. Blood on their skin, homemade weapons in their hands, ravenous wrath in their eyes. Her people had fought and won, and the cause of their suffering was snarling like a rabid animal backed into a corner.
“I command you to stop. I will have all of you hanged for this!”
Colorful strips of fabric that hung from windows and crossed over the space snapped in the wind. Men and women and children stared silently ahead. Their intensity was almost enough to suffocate. Solana’s and Reyes’s footsteps fell like the beats of an ode to death.
Far away, the midday bells rang, and through the echo of them, the last line of the crowd parted to finally reveal the king.
Killian’s back was to her, one arm outstretched with a sword clenched in hand and the other wrapped over his stomach.
He spun slowly and brandished his weapon as a last line of defense.
There were no servants with him to persuade.
No muki left to command. Only the people he had forgotten, who had herded him like a lamb to the slaughter.
His feet shuffled in a slow circle until he finally came to face her.
Solana strode forward with twenty years of resentment and Reyes at her back.
Killian had been expecting conversation, perhaps, by the surprise in his eyes, but Solana was done with words.
She flipped her dagger so that it was blade down and made the first move.
Killian spun aside and stumbled on a loose rock.
He caught himself and leaned away from another swipe.
Faster and harder Solana came at him, the crowd moving with them like a buoying wave, until he was panting for breath and he hadn’t made a single offensive strike. They had moved far enough that his back met a wall with nowhere to go, and only then did Solana ease up.
“Too afraid to get blood on your hands?” Killian asked between breaths. “I thought you were stronger than that.”
Behind her, Reyes chuckled. Solana smiled. “No, Killian, I’m not afraid. But your blood isn’t only mine to take.”
With the last of her strength, she rifted forward and sunk her fist into his stomach.
He tried to block her, but she was nothing but a figment of his worst nightmare.
A wraith of revenge. Killian choked and sputtered and fell forward, knees cracking against the stone, sword clattering out of reach.
Solana kicked it farther into the crowd, which swallowed it up.
Spittle and drops of blood flew from his mouth as he snapped up his head and roared.
Sweat dripped down his temples. Veins bulged in his neck.
The sound was guttural and defeated. A man who knew his death was upon him, and in that moment, Solana felt nothing.
She had given him enough of her mental space.
There was no more capacity for anger or retribution.
There was no winning when she had lost so much.
The silence that followed his cry of outrage was thick.
“Here he is.” Solana spoke calmly, but the disgust in her voice carried like a knife’s edge, cutting through the tension.
“King Killian, the Savior of Supay. The man who has stolen your loved ones, imprisoned them and used them. The king who has lied to you about your freedom and your choices, bled you dry of ilyas and dreams.”
The crowd pushed closer, the wounds on their bodies the scars of their king’s greed, weapons shifting from idle to erect.
“Don’t you dare,” Killian said, but Solana was already backing away, the crowd pushing in and closing the gap she left behind.
“He’s all yours!” she yelled at them, the face of her enemy no longer in sight.
Behind her stood Reyes, worse for wear, but whole and alive. He smiled, eyes only for her, and joined her side as she left the square. Killian’s screams followed them down the alley and past the homes of her people until eventually, they were drowned out by a chorus of hungry celebration.
“Where to?” Reyes asked, his hand sliding into hers, eyes alight with pride and love. He would follow her to the ends of the earth, if she asked it.
But she only led him to the ends of Qhilli, up a tall building and onto the roof where she had spent many nights alone, wondering what her life might look like far from Supay.
Reyes sat on the edge, his legs hanging off the side, and Solana slid onto his lap, her chest pressed against his and the sea spread out behind her like a glittering promise.
One wrong move, and she would fall to her death, but Reyes’s arms wrapped around her waist like a lifeline.
She saw herself and the wide-open sky reflected in his eyes. Locked in the cage of his arms, she had never felt freer.
They sat like that for a long while, the heat of the sun baking their skin giving way to a cool, clear night. The dusk bells rang but brought nothing but a natural silence. No muki to hunt or fear. No rush to save a life.
Later, they would find their friends and celebrate. Discuss all the ways in which they would move forward, but for now, she lost herself in the heat of Reyes’s mouth, in the rhythm of his racing heart, in the safety of his love.
No longer did she imagine Hanan Pacha, for this was the only place she ever wanted to be.