Chapter 57
Loud pounding on the door rouses me from my sleep. I jump straight out of bed, my entire body aching. Before I can even say anything, Lynx bursts through the door. “Get dressed and meet us at the sovereign’s study,” she says. Then she slams the door again, and the room plunges into darkness.
I do as she says, and as I step into the study about ten minutes later, the sovereign stands there with an enthusiastic grin.
“I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to brief you.
The Shadow Wielder will be made an example of in the square.
Then afterward, I need you to restrain him at Fiada Purlieu.
Tonight, we will close the Veil, and we will be one step closer to making Erleya the safest and greatest kingdom.
Report to the infirmary. There, you will meet the Sorceress I have been working with.
She is a key player in tonight’s ritual. ”
My stomach bottoms out, but I smile and nod. “Yes, Your Excellency. Thank you for entrusting me with this task.”
He lowers his head and dismissively waves the back of his hand toward me.
I leave the room and pull in a breath before forcing myself to take step after step toward the infirmary.
My pulse quickens more with each step until I’m standing in front of the door with my heart racing in my throat.
I somehow find the courage to push the door open and step into the infirmary.
To my surprise, there is no one in there except for Radika.
She turns from where she’s pouring a purple liquid into a bulbous glass vial and smiles at me.
Anger rises within me so fiercely that tears embarrassingly well in my eyes. Realms, I hate being an angry crier. “How long have you worked with the Zenith?” I demand.
Her smile doesn’t falter. “I told you, I work for no one but myself.” She moves closer to me, the glass bottle still in her hand. The purple liquid sloshes within it. Slowly, the liquid begins to darken. My gaze darts up from the bottle to Radika’s face.
“I heard you speaking to the sovereign last night.”
“Ah,” she says with a smile on her weathered face. “I thought I sensed you nearby.” She’s close enough that it’s uncomfortable, but I don’t step away.
“How can you sense me?” I ask, looking at her like the madwoman she is.
“The same way I sensed you over a year ago when the Purists nearly destroyed your lovely soul. Your lovely, yet loud, soul.” She laughs deeply in her chest.
Now, I do step away from her.
“I’ve always been different. A Sorceress with the ability to mimic what a Healer can do, but also with an aptitude for dark magic. The dark forces always call to me. Hence why your poor, tainted soul cried out to be rescued.”
Spiders scuttle down my spine. “What are you saying?”
“You’re not the first I’ve tried to save from the Cleanse. But you are the first I’ve successfully saved. When I found you … well, you saw the blood. You had no heartbeat. No breath in your lungs.”
My stomach churns, ice filling my veins. My heart hammers so hard that my head spins.
“You were dead. I brought you back. Some might say your existence is an abomination, but I say we rightfully defeated destiny.”
Her eyes flash with something sinister, and I nearly trip over my own feet as I take another step back. She advances on me as my chest heaves with panicked breaths. I always thought I’d been close to death and survived, not that I’d actually been dead.
“I saved you because you were meant for more than meeting your untimely end at the hands of those ridiculous fanatics. Because you deserved the chance to choose where you stand in this war of the gods. You deserved to control your own fate.”
I swallow thickly as vomit crawls up my throat. I’m barely able to catch my breath through my bounding pulse as I say, “How is that possible? No one can bring someone back from death! I had to have been—There’s no—How?”
Radika looks at the bottle where the liquid within has turned a murky black-green color. Lifting it, she nods with satisfaction and walks to the counter to cork it. It’s as if she hasn’t even heard me.
“Radika!”
With her back still to me, she says, “There are only a handful of people with the gift to bring the soul back from Lugda’s clutches.” She turns back to me, swirling the liquid around in the bottle again.
“Necromancy is forbidden,” I whisper.
“As is terraforging. And divination. And magical healing.” She gestures with her arms wide, the bottle still clutched in her hand. “Yet here we are. Our people have been killed for too long. It’s time to fight back.”
“You’re mad.” I retreat another step, shaking my head.
“Tonight,” Radika says without missing a beat. She slips the bottle into the pocket of her cloak and returns to me. “You’ll have to make a choice.” I brace myself for her to say something even more terrifying, but she only smiles at me and sweeps out of the room.
My knees quiver as I stand there, unable to move until I finally rush toward a receptacle to retch until my stomach is empty.
Radika truly brought me back from the dead over a year ago. I shouldn’t be here.
Given that the gods do exist, I’m sure Lugda must want my soul.