Page 121 of Vicious Is My Throne

“I’m not a princess,” I repeated. “Keep going. A bit further.”

I wasn’t sure Zor would make it inside. His feet were dragging, the pungent stench of rot filling up the bubble of magic I projected around us. He was in bad shape. Worse than I’d ever seen him, but Tavion and Raziel had seen our approach. They rushed out the door and met us, heaving Zor over their shoulders and carrying him inside.

I fucking despised this place for about a million reasons, and yet, I’d never been so glad to see a castle still standing.

“Come in,” I told Finnian and Kael. “We’ll get you both fed and healed up, and then we can decide where you go too.”

Kael blinked up at the ash still falling from the sky. “How are we supposed to get anywhere in this? We’d die before we walked a single mile.”

“There are a couple of choices.” I was too tired to do more than offer them a tired smile. “But I have to tell you now, you won’t like either of them. Still, I’d take the wyvern option, if I were you. The view from up there is amazing despite the destruction.”

I pointed at the sky and they both blanched.

51

RAZIEL

“Set him down in here.” Bexley diverted to the left as soon as we hauled Zorander inside. My old friend was pale as death, shaking, close to collapse. “The old larder. Everything’s stone; we can strip his clothing off then take him to the kitchen where you can heal him.”

“Why not heal him by the fire?” Tavion braced Zor against one of the walls. “At least let him get warm. He’s fucking frozen.”

“Contamination,” I muttered, peering at the faint trail of black we’d left behind us. “There’s no use in healing anyone until we get this ash off us, and I mean every last speck. Otherwise, we’ll be fighting a constant battle we’ll eventually lose.”

“This room is cold,” Bexley explained, wincing when he untied his cloak which fell to the floor in a cloud of dust. After just that short exposure, one side of the mage’s face was a mass of burns, and his bare arms had fared no better.

“The temperature should keep down the spread,” he explained. “We close the door behind us and leave all the contaminated clothing in here. Might buy us one night to rest and regroup.” His eyes fell on Zor. “We could all use some sleep.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.” I blew out a breath.

The eastern side of the castle was compromised, ash blowing in through the broken-out windows, piling up in the corners, drifting across the marble floors. Everywhere the black dust touched, tiny veins of black crawled across stone and wood and fabric.

“What if I used magic?” Anaria asked slowly, uncurling her red, swollen fingers.

“Do you know how to use your magic to kill blight?” Bexley asked softly. “Have you any idea how your power will react to flesh and blood? Whether or not it’s safe?” She shook her head, her eyes pinned on Zor.

“We’ll have to do this the hard way, Anaria,” Bex said, his voice kind. “No magic until we know for sure you won’t do more harm than good.”

“We all strip down. Leave your clothing—every single scrap of clothing, mind you—in this room. Then we rinse off with that.” I jerked my head to the raised cistern of well water in the corner and the moth-eaten towels piled beside it. “Use the pitchers. Do not cross contaminate the water.”

Tavion’s nose wrinkled. “This smells like shite.”

“There’s no blight and it’s all we have. Tristan’s already cleaned up. He’s upstairs finding clothing for us.” I stripped Anaria’s cloak off Zor, holding back my curse when I got a good look at his back.

“This looks bad.” I helped peel off his shirt and frowned. “Some of this damage looks older than today.”

“It is.” I lifted an eyebrow and my friend shook his head. “Long fucking story.” Zorander struggled out of his trousers, kicking his boots into the growing pile of discarded clothes. Everything was coated in the ashy blight, and I filled up a pitcher with the murky water then poured every boggy drop over Zor’s head.

“That’s fucking cold, arsehole,” he wheezed. “And it does taste like bog water.”

“Then you’d best keep your mouth closed,” I warned him, looking over to the strangers. “You two. Start stripping or you can go back outside and take your chances.”

I didn’t bother asking them who they were or where they were from. We were all in the same boat now. We either got cleaned up fast and I healed everyone, or we’d be in bad shape and would never leave here alive.

And if my healing didn’t work, or if my magic ran out…then we were fucked.

“Oh. I almost forgot.” Before I could stop him, Zor rooted through the pile, kicking up more dust. He straightened, something gleaming in his hand. “Here. If the healing doesn’t work…I found the pendant.”

I stared down at that bright red stone for one frozen moment, then dipped the whole thing into the cistern and wiped the surface clean. “Anaria. Once we’re all finished, you’ll have privacy to get yourself cleaned up. Tristan will help you while I take a closer look at Zor’s injuries. Bex, you’re second, then the rest of you can get in line.”

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