Page 129 of Vicious Is My Throne

“He’s had a lot of falls.” Tavion picked at his teeth, a wicked gleam in his eye. “I should go check on him and give him some shite. I’ll bet he missed us.”

I pulled him back down. “Let Zor sleep as long as he wants. Him being awake isn’t going to change whatever news Tristan’s brought and won’t change where we go next. He’ll need all his strength to reach the Wynter Palace.”

“True enough. I’m more worried about his back. He took a lot of damage yesterday.” Raz fed more magic into me, and I slid out from under his arm.

“Stop,” I told him quietly. “You still have to carry Tavion to the palace and you’re as tired as the rest of us. All I have to do is manage not to fall off Tristan. If you want to treat someone, save your strength for Zor again when he wakes up.”

Tristan blew into the room, eyes slightly wild, hair tangled around his head. “The blight’s contained to the estates closest to the wall, but it’s only a matter of time until it spreads west. East of here…” He shook his head, red hair spilling over his shoulders. “Caladrius is overtaken. I dropped Finnian and Kael off safely, but on my return flight I got a better look, and that entire realm is done for. Only a few isolated spots remain clear.”

Fear jolted through me, and Bexley’s eyes met mine. “Your wards haven’t been breached. They’re holding.”

“Then witch magic is still keeping the blight at bay. That’s something, I suppose,” I mused. “Can we assume the palace is still safe?” Because if we flew all the way there and that place was corrupted and none of us could go any further…

“The only way to know for sure is to see for ourselves. The flight would take me half the day.” Tristan pulled on a shirt. “Otherwise, we are taking a chance.”

“If we knew for sure,” Tavion said slowly, “I’d feel better about our next move. Nightcairn’s out of the question, and Stormfall’s too far.”

“And the fucking Oracle is in Blackcastle,” Tristan growled, coming to stand beside me.

Or on her way here, I didn’t add.

“We only have enough food for today,” Raziel pointed out. “Unless we go raiding.”

“That’s the plan, then.” Tristan tied his hair back behind his head. “I head to the palace to make sure it’s safe. Raz, you go to Whitehall. The main house is still untouched, and I think everyone’s gone. Bring back as much food as you can carry. We need fresh, drinkable water; Anaria can’t drink wine all day. And where is Zorander? We need him down here to help make these decisions, for fuck’s sake.”

“Sleeping.” I rose, my aching muscles protesting the movement.

“We need him,” Tristan apologized, kissing the top of my head. “I’m sorry, Anaria, but we need his input, even if it’s only for a couple hours.”

“Fine. I’ll go up and check, see if he’s awake.”

I climbed the never-ending staircase to the bedroom, struggling to pick up my dragging feet, my leg muscles weak from exhaustion. I was so damn tired I could curl up right here on these steps and go to sleep.

But the truth was, I didn’t want to spend another minute here.

This castle was a tomb, the eternal resting place to the victims of a celebration that ended in slaughter, victims who thought they held this entire realm in the palm of their hands, only to discover they were only sheep to the stronger, ravenous wolves they never saw coming.

Were we the sheep now? I wondered, dragging my tired body up the last few steps. Were we the ones who imagined a bright and shiny future that was nothing more than an illusion?

I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the wooden door, hand poised on the knob.

Maybe. But however this ended, I wouldn’t stop fighting.

Until none of us were standing…I pushed into the room. Until then, we would fight and cheat and use every single advantage to defeat Corvus and his sister.

Only when the last of us fell would this be over.

I stepped into the darkened room, the heavy drapes pulled tight against the sun, and déjà vu rocked me to my core. How many times had I come in here and flung those very draperies wide open to serve the duke and duchess their breakfast? How many times had I slunk out of here humiliated?

They’re dead. They can’t hurt you anymore.

Zor didn’t stir, lying on his side, his back to the door.

The air was dripping with moisture, too humid to be natural, and unease twisted through me, fear thrumming deep in my chest. Zor’s spine looked…unnatural. I squinted against the gloom, wishing I’d brought a candle with me.

I held my breath as I drifted closer, hands gripping the ends of my too long shirt sleeves, focused wholly on that odd shape of his muscular back, that strange bulge I couldn’t see clearly. Had Raziel’s healing failed?

I didn’t smell rot, but that didn’t mean Raz hadn’t missed something.

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