Page 50 of Vicious Is My Throne

Black eyes raked over us. “You. Coming here. Asking for the blade.”

Gods, I despised witches and their endless games. “We get that part. How long ago did you have the vision?”

“Three weeks now. The blight arrived at our doors two days ago. We had enough warning, thank the Three Mothers, to send the rest of our people to safety. If the goddess smiles upon them, they have already reached Meridian Bay.”

“And yet you remained.” Anaria cocked her head. “To deliver your doom-filled message, I assume?”

“To deliver the message and give you Aetherial.”

“And what is Aetherial?” Anaria asked.

“The weapon you seek, of course.” Ophelia crossed her hands over her chest.

The hair on the back of my neck went up. This was too straightforward a transaction, and if there was one thing witches were not, it was straightforward. “What is the cost of such generosity?”

She snorted. “As if I’d tell you, wyrm. This is for the princess to decide. A weapon to kill a god or watch everything she brought to life wither and die. They are one and the same, yet as different as night and day.”

“Games and riddles. Now that’s more like it,” I muttered, rooting around in my bag until I found what I was looking for.

“Do not blame me if your puny brain can’t comprehend the universe’s secrets.” Ophelia’s dark eyes raked over me like claws. “Beasts like you are only good for one thing. There was a reason we used to sacrifice your kind. Skin you like rabbits.”

“Watch your mouth,” Anaria growled, the shield around us thrumming with starry power. “We can be civil, or we can step over your steaming carcasses and leave you here to rot.”

Fury raised its head as I rose to my feet, staring down this hateful creature. “I know exactly what you used my kind for. If I could, I would burn this town to the ground.”

“You need the blade.” Ophelia’s smile turned as oily as her creeping tone.

“There is always another way,” Anaria countered, her jaw tensing, but I heard the doubt in her voice and spooled back my anger. Our success was still far from assured, but at least the weapon was a path forward. Once we had the knife, we would find that pendant and unite the two pieces.

“In fact”—Anaria raked the two witches with such wicked disdain, I had to smile—“I think we’re wasting our time. Perhaps we should leave you two here to rot. I doubt the world would notice.”

“Do not disrespect my High Priestess.” Gideon’s hissing threat sent me lunging forward, stopped only by Anaria’s hand on my arm. “A thieving usurper and a mindless beast.” Gideon sneered. “I counseled my sister against this meeting. We should have killed you both the moment you landed.”

“You could try,” Anaria challenged softly before I could stop her. “See where that gets you.” Her hands flexed, that beautiful face alight with fury, all her irreverent humor stripped away.

“This world is on the brink of collapse, and you want to have a pissing contest? Fine. But know this. We’ll walk away. You won’t.”

For the first time, doubt shone in their eyes as if they were seeing Anaria for the first time.

I straightened, my hand clenched around the item I sincerely hoped I would not need. “You delivered your message,” I said evenly. “Now give us the knife and we’ll be gone.”

“Come inside and we will negotiate. I have something else to tell you.” Cruelty flickered in Ophelia’s eyes, and I stifled my curse. “A warning. Or call it a show of goodwill, from one priestess to another.”

“We remain outside.” I widened my stance. “You deliver your warning while your brother goes and fetches us the knife.”

“We do not take orders from animals,” Gideon hissed.

“A beast I might be, but I did not come empty-handed. Even my puny brain understands the greed of witches.”

I held out my hand, the vial of bright red blood gleaming in my palm. “My princess might bleed black, but I bleed red. As red as the throne of the Conclave’s High Queen.”

The two sucked in a breath as I ignored Anaria’s boiling fury and turned the whole of my attention on the male. “Now be a good boy and fetch the knife, Gideon, because we have no interest in your sister’s web of lies.”

17

ZORANDER

Ireleased a ragged exhale, pressing my shaking fingers to my forehead.

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