Page 73 of Vicious Is My Throne

I tapped the device twice with my index finger, spoke the words Cosimo had told me to only use as a last resort, and time claimed us both as darkness rushed past, propelling us—hopefully—back into the future.

30

ANARIA

Oh, my sister so wanted me dead.

Murder turned her smile brighter than the sun, those clawed fingers growing worrisomely sharp.

“Corvus has to be stopped,” I argued. “Even you must see that.”

The wind whipped unchecked through the room, not a single window left intact, puddles of water spilling across the floor. How easy would it be for one of us to slide across this slick marble and plummet into that deep ravine below?

Too fucking easy.

“I already told you—I can survive this world if it’s a bare husk of rock. You cannot.”

“And that’s enough for you?” I asked, moving away from those gaping windows to the center of the room. “To survive?”

Her silence was answer enough.

“Help us save this world. I will drop the wall between Varitus and Caladrius if you tell me how to stop him. Surviving. Existing. Is that really enough for someone like you?”

Bile burned up my throat as I made my offer, this hideous bargain I’d strike to buy us a little more time.

Even now, my magic was sorting itself out, settling into layers and threads, Fae and witch magic wending together into some new order, my darkling shadows curling into a corner, cautious of the vast well of power that had opened in my center.

“What would you know of anything? You’re like a babe taking its first steps.”

“Compared to you, yes, I am.” I cocked my head at this twisted, awful creature, shoving back the hair lashing my face. “But the fact remains—if your brother isn’t stopped, this world will end. Has this ever happened before? Has he ever gone too far?”

No,” she snapped. “Because none of our other re-creations of Amalla were foolish enough to upset the balance.” Her claws clicked sharply like the pincers of those Night Crawlers. “Corvus can’t be stopped.” Her expression turned as smooth as glass. “He’s too strong. This world will die because you set a monster loose.”

“Nothing is unstoppable.”

“He is.” Her lips curled up in a parody of a smile.

“You did this,” she repeated, and the truth speared through me like shards of glass. “If not for you, the balance would have been maintained. You might have claimed the power, but I would have taken the Fae magic back eventually, like I always do.” Her smile turned secretive.

“We might have spent a few decades locked in battle while the world recovered and a generation of Fae lived and died their little, worthless lives, but now…”

Outside, the sun broke through the dark clouds, the storm blowing away to the east, taking their wind and rain with them. The roaring of the waterfalls seemed amplified, the Oracle raising her voice to be heard.

“Now even that dream is as dead as your precious forest.”

“He has to have a weakness.”

“After devouring half the wild magic in Caladrius in a matter of days?” She shook her head. “He’s so glutted on power right now, even I wouldn’t dare go near him. My brother is a sponge, absorbing everything around him, and the more he devours, the stronger he becomes. So yes, Princess…this is already over.”

Surprisingly, I stayed upright after hearing such terrible news.

“So the magic in Varitus? That’s just, what…your reserve to get you through until the end?” My voice cracked on that last word. “Why bother playing games if this is already over?”

“Because,” she said carefully, her fingers growing shorter, paler. “There is a slim chance with that extra boost of magic I could force him back down into his hole and cut him off. After all, it’s been done before. Once.”

She was talking about how we’d stopped them on our home world, though that imprisonment hadn’t lasted forever.

“The world would take time to heal, of course, a feat that might take decades, if not centuries, but the world would…go on.”

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