Chapter 36
“Dramatic, little gangster. I’m down here.”
I looked down to the marbled platform.
There he was.
In front of the Marked. Just a wings length away.
The Fallen Prince, clad in obsidian finery, his shadows swirling around him, had come to be near me.
As close as he could get without Kaelthos calling it an interference and deeming my life forfeit.
His eyes blazed like jade stones. That alone was enough for me to lift my head higher.
For me to take a few more breaths. For me to withstand the pain a bit longer.
“There you are,” he purred. “I’m not letting you cross into the Ellelights yet.”
If I had the strength, I would have laughed. But then another lash came.
“Forty.”
“Forty-one.”
“Forty-two.”
I held on to Quazar’s gaze. It was all I could do to keep from breaking. If I didn’t endure, the Marked would die. And stars. I was tired of lives being wasted in this temple.
Shadows slipped into my mind, caressing me.
They seeped further, curling into my spirit.
Shadow danced with starfire as Quazar traipsed all along our bond, determined to distract me by any means necessary.
The feel of him along that tethered, ethereal bond between us warmed me.
Reassured me. Strengthened me. I sighed, leaning into his touch.
“Fifty-three.”
I could no longer stop the tears. I tried.
I failed.
They fell freely now, burning my eyes, triggering a throbbing headache. By the seventieth lash, I could no longer stop screaming. I swayed, finding the cathedral spinning around me.
To whatever end.
The whispers of my Manmi’s vow curled into my thoughts. I held on to them like oxygen.
“Seventy-seven.”
One moment the ceiling was above me. The next, it was under my feet. By some odd miracle, I got up again before staying down got too comfortable. I was shivering uncontrollably.
I could feel death rushing for me, demanding I take its hand and enter eternal darkness. I shoved back the temptation to quit. To give in. I endured the lashes as they fell. Screamed through the agony as more pieces of my body, my soul, were violently ripped from me.
My spine felt raw.
My hearts were weakening. Pumping slower.
Life drained out of my body like undulating ocean waves. Crawling black seeped into the corners of my vision coaxing me towards a bright light. The hands of the Ellelights reached for me.
And stars.
I reached back.
“No.”
Quazar snarled down our bond. His voice was so loud. Ferocious. Commanding. I jolted alert, flinching at how aggressive it was. I blinked through the haze, finding his eyes piercing into me.
“Safah, do not yield! You will not enter the Ellelights, do you hear me? I recognize the soft surrender in your eyes. The bow to your wings. The admonition of defeat. To the bottomless pits of the Hèls with the Ellelights. Eternity will not claim you this dawn. I am not letting you go.”
“Eighty-seven.”
Lash.
“Ninety-two.”
Lash.
My knees buckled. My body grew numb. I tried using more starfire to stave off the excess blood flow. But I was getting so tired. So weak. My only consolation was that these wretched inscriptions hadn’t surfaced. I’d begged for them to stay hidden. And for once, they listened.
“If you do not rise, Safah Anathelle, not only will you be an embarrassment to your bloodline, but the lives of these Fallen abominations will end with yours. You chose sacrifice. Now get up and prove you are worth it.”
Who just said that? The voice was cold. Cruel. Merciless. Was it Kaelthos? One of the Scourgers? I couldn’t tell. But it was probably Kaelthos. Dung eating ashbat.
“I’d advise you shut the Hèls up or I’ll drown you in shadows and remind you that darkness does not simply bend to me. It bows.”
That was Quazar. Definitely Quazar.
No one else would have the spine to speak like that to a Farasee? A Scourger? Who in the stars was he talking to? Everyone, everything, seemed so far away. I couldn’t hear. Couldn’t think. All the sounds were growing muffled. Distant.
“Starling, I have been on my best behavior. Shackling myself to these stupid temple rules. But if you don’t get up, that asheater of a Farasee will not only kill my angels, he will kill you.
And I swear to the Infinite, if that fire breather lays even a finger on you, I will lose control.
This entire realms-forsaken temple will drown in tormenting, never-ending darkness and burn to ash until there is nothing left. Get up, my Safah, or I will rage.”
I tried to move. I really did, but I had nothing left. My tank was empty. Shadows erupted along the tether of our bond, pouring into my body, giving me a strength I didn’t have. I twitched, turning my head to the side.
The Marked were looking at me with wide eyes. I couldn’t tell if their terror was for me or themselves. I was laid out on the floor, entirely drenched in my own blood. It was hot and sticky and had a foul odor. I smelled like decay. Like death.
“Kill the Fallenspawn,” I heard Kaelthos say from a faraway place.
Something inside of me snapped. I’d have every feather of my wings plucked before Kaelthos would get the liberty to kill for sport.
“NO!”
Starfire ripped out of my chest. My open palms. The power poured out of my mouth. I launched myself from the floor, newly charged with a primal instinct to protect these innocents.
“Do not touch them!” I roared. My breathing was ragged.
My voice a broken, feral thing. My voice bounced off the walls of the cathedral in tremors.
The Disciples across the Orders gasped. Some slid down in their seats, lifting their wings to shield themselves.
Others were taken with the ferocity that had overcome me and leaned forward as if I was a creature they had never seen before.
“If you want to get to them, you’re going to have to get through me.”
I threw myself in front of Quazar and the Marked. Starfire bled out of my hands forming a starry shield around the Mortent angels, blocking them from attack.
“Holy stars,” someone whispered. “How is she…Whoa.”
“I think the real question is who is she,” another angel whispered. I didn’t hear the rest. Stars. This was taking so much out of me.
“Just know, this dawn changes everything. For us.” A beat. Then. “Between us.”
Despite the Hèls I was presently enduring, my lips curled into a smile.
“Should I survive, oh Wicked Prince of Curses, I would enjoy no longer trying to kill you.”
He snorted down the bond though his facial expression never changed.
“Don’t flatter yourself, my Starling. You could never.”
“Is that a bet?”
Another lash.
“Ninety-four.”
I ground my teeth. Planted my feet. Conversation forgotten, I heaved trying to breathe beyond the foul stench of my insides spilling all over these perfect floors.
“Ninety-six.”
I dropped the shield. My shoulders bowed, my wings hanging limp to the floor. Four more. Just four more…
I swayed, nearly stumbling to the marble.
Quazar took a step toward me.
“If you help—”
“I haven’t!” Quazar thundered. “Keep pushing me Zamarien,” he challenged, his voice dangerously quiet.
Farasee Kaelthos kept quiet.
“Ninety-nine,” Lilithine cried.
I fell to my knees. It felt like I’d shattered my kneecaps.
Face first, I fell into the pool of blood.
“Starling…”
“Don’t. I…I’ve got this. I must do this. On my own.”
By some miracle, before Kaelthos’s bloodthirst could win, I pushed to my knees. Then my palms. Then onto my ankles, and slowly, stars, so slowly, I stretched up to stand. Through the tears. The blood. The pain. With my shattered mind and my broken hearts.
“Do. Not. Yield. Starling.”
Quazar’s words stunned me.
They anchored me.
“One hundred.”
A fierce, final, fatal strike ripped into my spine. One of the Dragontails wrapped around my waist. It ripped the fabric open as sharp scales tore through my skin over my ribs. Blood gushed from my rib cage, pooling down my gown.
That was the blow that finished me.
As if slipping through water, my body tumbled backwards. My eyes rolled into my head, my arms flung in different directions carrying the momentum of my body with them. The whips cracked, and snapped, jerking me into a spiral, releasing me into the air.
Several reptilian roars erupted from above outside the cathedral. Then the roof overhead shattered as the Dragèth—bonded to the Xadari Legionnaires—dove into the cathedral.
“Dragons!” the Disciples screamed.
Some Disciples took off flying. The moment they were airborne, the black dragon with the silver eyes flamed them, burning them to a crisp until there was nothing left. Not any skin, bones, or even their spirit.
Endless screaming filled the building. A bright light settled like a film over my eyes, as I felt myself drifting far away. Like I was leaving my body. Like I was leaving this life.
I heard the sound of bodies fyusing.
Of Ellabeth swearing vengeance.
When gravity began to yank me down, strong arms, corded with muscle, grabbed hold of me before I fell to the floor. The gentleness with which they held me brought fresh tears to my eyes. Shadows covered all my open wounds and helped to hold my head.
“Safah Eloise Anathelle, don’t you dare yield. Not even to the Ellelights.”
Quazar’s voice was shrill. Filled with panic.
Choking.
Like he was fighting tears.
Like he was racing against time.
His delicious scent of mint and sandalwood filled my nostrils. I hung limp in his arms. I felt light. Weightless. As if I was being flown to somewhere else. Somewhere away from this blood chamber the Farasees had the nerve to call a Sanctuary.
“Starling, please. Please.”
Such sweet, comforting words.
But I was tired. So tired.
And the Marked, they would live.
The Marked angels were free. I could sleep now. I smiled, closing my eyes. Then I tumbled into an endless light. I let go, free falling into that welcoming abyss of ivory. But as I fell, a voice bellowed again and again.
“Safah, do not enter the Ellelights. SAFAH, DO NOT ENTER THE ELLELIGHTS.”