Chapter 53 Ransom
Seraphine went over the edge of Traveller’s Arch like a raindrop sliding down a windowpane. One minute she was beside him, fighting off a Strix, and the next she was gone, swept to the ground in a swirl of black feathers.
His heart seized as her scream died out.
He needed to get off this damn arch. But the monsters kept coming, talons sharp and beaks snapping.
Whips struck the stone around him, spewing chunks everywhere.
Fear stoked his magic, that primal urge to protect Seraphine, to tear down the world that dared to harm her, forging a dragon so vast and terrible his head spun.
He stumbled as it took flight, killing ten Strix in as many seconds.
They crashed to the ground, breaking the cobbles. Soon, enormous black corpses littered the stone circle that surrounded the arch. They had crushed their riders, the unlucky survivors crawling out from under their mounts only to collapse on the stone.
Beyond the arch, bootsteps rattled over the north bridge as Andreas came to collect his prize.
Over my dead body.
Ransom swung down from the arch. He moved frantically among the bodies, searching for Sera. There were so many dead Strix, so much blood and fallen rubble… Where the hell was she?
Caruso and Theo were fighting. Both bruised and bloody, Theo had the Saint of Warriors by the throat.
Caruso twitched, his eyes rolling back in his head.
Ransom charged the soul-eater. They fell together, rolling across the wing of a dead Strix. Ransom pinned Versini by his breastplate.
‘I told that idiot to stay down!’ spat the soul-eater. ‘He kept coming at me!’
‘No shit, traitor. He’s trying to kill you.’ Ransom slugged him in the jaw.
Theo jerked, spitting blood. ‘You’ve got it wrong, tunnel rat.’
Ransom hit him again, reaching for Saintkiller.
He drew the dagger and struck.
Versini bucked, the blade missing his throat by a hair’s breadth. It bit into stone and Ransom pitched forward. A split second to right himself was all it took for the soul-eater to grab his jaw. Ransom choked on a gasp as Versini’s power plunged into him.
He shuddered at the intrusion, at the uncanny sense that his soul was being scraped clean. He collapsed on top of the soul-eater, and Versini rolled him until he was the one pinned to the cobbles.
‘Where is Sera?’ he snarled.
Ransom spat at him.
He gritted his teeth. ‘Where?’
A shadow swept over them: Ransom’s dragon, soaring overhead. His magic was still in flow, which meant Theo Versini wasn’t devouring his soul.
Nearby, someone groaned. ‘Ransom.’
He jerked upwards as Versini whipped his head around, both tracking the sound of Seraphine’s voice.
There, by the outer pillar of the arch, Ransom spied a spill of blonde hair. She was trapped under a dead Strix, her pale hand reaching for him across the stones.
Ransom didn’t have to push Versini off. The Soul-eater was already on his feet, but instead of going for Sera, he ran to Andreas, who had alighted on the nearside of the bridge.
Ransom crawled to Seraphine, shoving off the dead Strix to reveal her bruised and battered body. She was barely conscious, her eyes fluttering as she reached for him. Blood striped her chin.
‘I’m here, spitfire,’ he said, wiping it away. ‘I’ve got you.’
‘Not for long,’ crowed Andreas.
The Silver-tongue sauntered across the stone circle, with the Soul-eater at his side and his Rose-bearers spilling out behind him.
For the first time in his life, Ransom felt the staggering weight of the odds stacked against him. He was fresh out of allies. Weapons. Prayers. His dragon could not be in two places at once, and it held no power over the saints before him.
There was nowhere to take her. Nowhere to hide her.
He reached for the sword of a dead Urnican, and came to his feet, making a shield of his own body.
The prince’s smile was mocking. ‘Thank you for digging her out for me, Nightmare. I’d hate to get all that sticky Strix blood on my armour.’
Ransom curled his lip.
‘I was hoping you’d be dead by the time I crossed the bridge,’ Andreas went on, glaring sidelong at Versini. ‘My soul-eater is not as impressive as he thinks.’
Versini bristled. ‘The dead Saint of Warriors says differently.’
Andreas cast a dispassionate gaze over Caruso’s body. ‘Hmm.’
‘Maybe Versini likes me too much to kill me,’ said Ransom.
Versini snorted. ‘The obsession is all yours, Hale.’
His voice was mocking, his cruel smile confirming everything Ransom had thought about him long before today, and yet there was something off about it.
Why hadn’t he killed Ransom just now? Versini had claimed the advantage the second he’d grabbed Ransom’s jaw. Under the battering ram of his power, Ransom had felt the answering weakening of his own magic. Why had he let go? Why surrender his advantage so easily?
Andreas’s eyes roved to where Seraphine lay crumpled at his feet. ‘There she is. My darling rose.’
Ransom sank into a fighting stance. ‘If you want her, you’ll have to go through me.’
‘Oh, Nightmare. It will be my pleasure.’ He raised his hand, and behind him, ten thousand soldiers stomped to attention. The world shook. A shiver raced down Ransom’s spine as he sensed his oncoming doom, death notched like an arrow he could no longer outrun.
As the Silver-tongue opened his mouth to give the order that would surely end his life, the Soul-eater’s hand shot out.
Versini grabbed Andreas by the throat.
The prince jerked, the words dying on his tongue.
The soul-eater’s eyes turned gold. ‘Drop your weapons!’
Thousands of swords clattered to the ground.
‘Kneel!’ he yelled, and the soldiers fell to their knees.
Ransom stared at Versini.
He stared right back.
Blood roared in his ears as he tried to make sense of what the hell was happening, but Versini was speaking to him, his voice low and urgent. ‘We can’t kill him,’ he said, as the prince jerked in his grip. ‘Not before he’s unmade.’ He angled his chin towards Seraphine. ‘She has to do it.’
Shock washed over Ransom, the world falling away until there remained only one unassailable truth: Versini knew. He had known all along the threat that Andreas posed, even in death. He knew his compulsions would outlast him if he died a saint. And he cared.
Versini cared, and he had brought Andreas here, to her, to end it the right way.
Swallowing the shards of his own broken pride, Ransom said, ‘How long can you keep him like that?’
‘Not long.’
Ransom was already running. He lunged at the prince. They hit the ground together, and he struck, fast and savage, driving his sword into the slim gap under his breastplate. Skewering him like a stuck pig.
Andreas arched off the cobbles, screaming. Ransom shoved his fist into his mouth, choking his next command. Versini left him to his vengeance, moving towards Seraphine.
Ransom’s hackles rose as the soul-eater disappeared from his sight, but his hands were full of Andreas and that blade in his side wasn’t working fast enough.
Patience, he reminded himself.
He must first be unmade.
Then he would rip the bastard apart. He withdrew the sword with a sucking pop.
Andreas fought back, kicking and swinging as Ransom gripped him by his hair, pummelling the prince with a fury that loosened the knot in his chest. When a shadow moved overhead, Ransom paid it no heed, thinking it was his own dragon.
Until it roared.
He snapped his chin up as Darius Mondragon dived over the northern hills. His mount skimmed the bridge, knocking soldiers into the river as it charged headlong towards Ransom. The Strix opened its metal beak, releasing a fetid wind that pushed the hair back from his face.
Mondragon roared as the Strix slammed into Ransom.
By the time his dragon fell from the sky in tatters, Ransom was already out cold.