Chapter 25 #2
“When Malosym was creating his army in Eserene, I managed to escape. I’ve been holding my breath since then, hoping he wouldn’t make good on his threat and take Katia’s life.
Paid for a spot aboard a merchant ship leaving Aera and made my way here.
I’ve been scouring the temple since I arrived, looking for anything that might help me work my way around Malosym’s curse to reveal my identity to you.
I found nothing, until you three walked through the doors.
” Already Tyrak seemed lighter, like each word was an individual weight he was dropping off his shoulders.
“And where is Malosym now?” Petra demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, but there was something defeated in her tone.
Tyrak let out a sigh, deflating in front of us. “I don’t know.”
Maybe Tyrak didn’t know, but Miles did.
I shoved that errant thought from my brain, conjuring up an image of a cliff and watching the thought tumble over its edge, hitting the ground below and shattering into a thousand pieces. I didn’t want to suspect that Miles may have known. Didn’t want to consider such a thought.
Tyrak’s eyes were hard on Petra, his mouth a thin line. “But I know he is somewhere gaining strength.”
“He has drivas,” Petra murmured, her gaze dropping from Tyrak and landing on the tabletop.
Tyrak’s olive skin went ashen, his eyes flying wide as he rose slowly from his chair. “What?”
She chewed on her thumbnail. “When we were flying here from Astran, we were attacked by another driva.”
Tyrak slowly backed away from the table. “He… He always said he wanted to create his own drivas, but the sheer amount of power he would need to do that… He shouldn’t be this strong.” His hands tore through his dark hair, his brows upturned as his head shook. “How is this possible?”
“What are you saying?” I asked carefully.
“He’s stronger than I thought he’d be by now,” Tyrak answered, and his voice was dripping with fear.
Petra placed her hands on the table again, and I recognized the look in her eyes.
She was digging deep within herself, the same way she’d done since I met her.
Her sights were set on survival, on what we needed to do to make it through this.
“We need a plan,” she said, her voice eerily calm.
“And you have information I’m sure will be helpful. ”
“I will do everything I can.”
The Saint of Pain was nothing like I thought he’d be. I’d imagined some hardened, weathered monster. Tyrak looked like… Well, he looked like he was in pain. Not like he’d be the one to cause it.
My thumb moved back and forth over the pommel of my sword.
The sword that was the key to uncovering the identity of the Saint of Pain.
The sword I’d carried for years and had no idea the depth of the power once held within the steel.
“How did you get away with giving me Aegrabane? How was that even remotely acceptable to Malosym?”
“I told him I could use it to locate you,” he said. “That if there was ever a time you figured it all out and escaped him, I could use it as a beacon and lead us right to you.”
Outrage boiled in my veins. Another way he’d led Malosym directly to Petra. “An invasion of privacy, then.”
“A lie. I cannot use it to locate you. The blade holds no such power. In fact, it holds no power within the Human Realm. Its power is dormant.”
Petra blinked rapidly, exhaustion hollowing the space beneath her eyes. “I need to speak with Katia and Rhedros.”
Tyrak’s hands dropped to his side, the worry on his face replaced by awe. “You speak to them?” he whispered.
Petra didn’t seem to notice the look on Tyrak’s face. “I’ve lost consciousness a few times and have woken up wherever they are in the Darkness Beyond.” She looked to me for a moment, gesturing between us. “But Cal and I didn’t hear or see them when we were in the Darkness Beyond.”
Tyrak’s jaw slackened, and something hard dropped into my gut. “What?” I asked, eyeing his unsure expression.
“It’s nothing,” he answered, his jaw closing and his expression neutralizing. “I was simply not expecting to hear that you’ve both been to the Darkness Beyond. ”
Petra was chewing on her thumbnail again, her brows furrowed.
She pursed her lips, as if coming to some internal conclusion.
Then she straightened and squeezed her eyes shut, her fists balling at her sides.
Silence descended, and Miles’ brows furrowed.
He looked at me in question, but all I could do was shrug in response.
Petra’s lips moved silently, and though I couldn’t read what she was saying, I could tell she was repeating herself over and over.
I dared a look in Tyrak’s direction, finding him enraptured by whatever the hell Petra was doing, his face wary.
Finally, her eyes opened. Her fists relaxed, the line between her brows softening. She looked at me, her expression serious. “I need you to punch me in the face.”
I reared back, blinking at her rapidly, because surely those words had not just left her mouth. “Excuse me?”
“I could freely move between realms on the other side with nothing more than some concentration. I can’t seem to do that here. The only time I’ve managed to get to the Darkness Beyond from the Human Realm is when I lose consciousness.”
Tyrak’s expression was grave. “Your powers will always be stronger in the Holy Realms,” he offered as an explanation, echoing what the Sanguilite said. “Which is why Malosym’s power is so easily depleted here.”
Petra nodded, looking back at me. “I can either climb on top of this table, jump off, and hope I don’t kill myself, or you can punch me in the face.”
I laughed at her joke. It was funny, really. Not the best time for a joke, but funny all the same. “Hilarious, Petra.”
She turned to where Miles was watching in wide-eyed horror. “What about you Miles? I’m sure you have some anger to work out. Come hit me.”
“Your Majesty,” he stammered. “I can’t–”
“Sure you can. Come on.”
I grabbed her elbow, but she easily tore out of my grip. “Petra, this isn’t funny. ”
“I’m not trying to be funny. Now Miles, punch me in the face.”
“No,” he answered firmly, his horror turning to anger.
“Back of the head?”
“There’s a better way than this, Petra. This is foolish.”
“What about you, Tyrak?” she asked, whirling to the last man standing. “I’m sure there’s a little bit of that Saint of Pain left in you.”
His mouth slackened, his head shaking. “I cannot in good conscience lay a hand on you, Petra.”
She sighed, rolling her eyes, before she pulled her chair out further and propped one leg up. “If Nell were here, she’d do it.”
“And I’d put her in the ground,” I answered, confusion marking my features as I watched her. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Don’t be such a protective barbarian. And what does it look like I’m doing?” Another leg up on the chair, then one on the table. “I’m going to see Katia and Rhedros.”
“Petra!” I lunged for her.
She cast a hand out, but instead of fire, a burst of frigid air knocked me in the face as she moved toward the center of the table. “Okay, last chance boys, or I’m jumping.”
Miles stalked toward the table as if he were coming to collect a petulant child in the midst of a tantrum. Tyrak took a step forward, too, and the three of us surrounded her, arms extended.
She surged to the left, and we all followed.
But at the last second, she threw herself backward, out of anyone’s reach.
I cursed, careening over the table to get to her, but it was too late.
And, in true Petra fashion, she raised her middle finger for one final moment before her head cracked against the tile.