Level after level, they fall to my sword, my mind focused on only this task. I do not feel the ache of my muscles or the labor of my breath. The acolytes I let pass, but the soldiers will never drop their weapons. Not those corrupted by Kairyn. How exactly did you sway their loyalty, brother?
Bodies litter each floor, blood dripping down the black stairs like a river.
Did Kairyn think he weakened me after taking away the Blessing? No, he freed me.
I shoved my magic away after the death of our mother, learned to fight without it. The sword is the only weapon I need. I do not even need the beast.
Though he is no different from me. Tearing goblins with tooth and claw is surprisingly similar to butchering fae with steel.
Almost at the top of the monastery, the bond in my chest is as blurry as ever. But of course, this is where they would take her.
The corridor is wide, and I know she’s beyond the door. Rosalina is so close.
But it’s filled with soldiers of the Queen’s Army. And Kairyn’s left his best for last. Plated armor covers their chests and legs, helmets protecting their skulls. Each of them is armed with shield and spear.
“We’ve been given orders to take you alive, if you surrender completely.” One steps forward, torchlight flickering on his helm. I wonder what his expression is beyond it, hidden beneath the shadows.
He can see mine clearly now. They all can. And based on the spears quivering in their hands, they know I’m not about to surrender.
I twirl my sword through the large standing sconce, letting the flames lick at the metal. “You don’t think I climbed all those stairs just to get on my knees now, do you?”
Kairyn’s left his best guards here. To protect his little bird and her prize. But he knew I’d come for her.
Coward Kairyn couldn’t even kill me yourself. Had to get an army to do it.
Or try to.
“Then we have no choice,” the soldier says. Twenty to one. Good odds.
Or it should be.
There’s the sound of jangling metal as they affirm my decision, but I leave my blade in the flame, leave it there until the last possible moment, letting it bathe in the heat.
Wind brushes the side of my wounded ear as the soldier arcs his spear down. I lurch forward and drive the red-hot sword through his armor. It’s as smooth as if it were his bare flesh. Pulling it out, he clatters to the ground, a heap of useless metal.
The others close in, but I swing my blade in a wide sweep, sparks flying as it cuts into steel.
A spear pierces me in the shoulder. I turn, sword stabbing the gap in the soldier’s armor between head and chest. Then I duck out of the way, pulling the spear from me and using it to cut through another approaching soldier.
One by one, they fall beneath me. Two left, and my blade is still plenty hot.
Shaking, one of the soldiers charges. I cut clean through the steel, and he falls at my feet.
“You are an evil, vile creature,” the last one yells, spear quaking. “This blood you spill will stain you forever.”
His own sprays the ground next. And it’s eerily quiet, besides his raspy breathing.
I stand above him.
“Monster. You’re a monster,” he gurgles.
“No.” I drive the sword through his breastplate. “I’m a beast.”
97
Rosalina
No, no, no. Please, no. Not this. Desperately, I fight against the hold of the guard, kicking as he tries to force my knees apart. But he’s so strong. I’ve lost so much blood, my mind is hazy. The other guard who hit me drops his pants. I thrash, throat raw with screaming.
The other one has grabbed my arms, but it’s the slight turn of his head I notice first. The low surprised murmur under his breath.
A man steps into the room, no armor, face sprayed with blood. But his eyes are on fire. And they’re on me. He drops his sword.
Ezryn. My lips form the word I can’t speak. My mind desperately tries to call to him through the muddled bond.
He moves before the soldiers even let me go. He grabs the one above me by the neck and drags him to the side of the center stone tablet that still holds the bow. He slams the man’s head down hard. Hard enough to break the skull. Hard enough to spray blood and brain matter. Hard enough to kill him in a single blow.
But he doesn’t stop with one hit. He smashes the guard’s head down again and again and again and again, until there’s nothing but broken flesh beneath his fingers.
The guard who hit me lets me go, stumbling over one of the Nightingale’s iridescent brambles, then vomits over himself.
Ezryn drops the mutilated guard to the ground and retrieves his sword. His eyes are ablaze with a terrible fury.