Page 75 of Vicious Is My Throne

“That…the knife? He touched the knife?” I lifted Tav’s hand, his stiffened, gray fingers cold to the touch. From what I’d seen of the Oracle’s memories, that knife delivered certain death.

Except…he wasn’t a crumbled pile of dust.

“He’s unconscious but alive,” Raz muttered, feeding more magic into him. “He dropped like a fucking stone. Was joking one minute about using that to kill Corvus, the next he was flat on the ground. At least he’s breathing now.”

Now?

“You fool,” I scolded Tavion, rubbing his frozen fingers between my palms before I lifted his hand toward Raz. “The knife…sucks the life out of you. Try concentrating your power on his fingers, Raz.”

The moment healing magic skated over Tavion’s hand, cold gray flesh turned warm pink, and Tav’s bleary eyes fluttered open, aware enough to bounce from face to face. “There you are, dumbarse. Don’t you know better than to mess with magic?”

“I wanted to be a good husband,” he slurred with a dazed, sloppy grin. “Thought I’d take Corvus out myself and save you the trouble.”

“Idiot,” I muttered, picking leaves out of his tangled hair.

“Where is the Oracle?” Bexley squeaked, craning his neck around the corner. “Should we be running or is it already too late?”

“You are such a chickenshite,” Tristan murmured, hopping from one bare foot to the other.

“We struck a new bargain,” I told them, slipping my arm behind Tavion’s shoulders and lifting him up to a sitting position. “One that buys us a little more time. Enough, hopefully, to figure out how to use that.” I nodded to the box Tristan held. “And we need time to secure the pendant from Blackcastle and unite the two pieces into something useful.”

“We don’t have time to go to Varitus, Anaria.” Raziel shoved to his feet, offering Tavion a hand up. “The blight isn’t slowing and there’s no telling how much time Blackcastle has left before the city’s overrun,” he added gently. “It might already be too late.”

“I don’t care where we go, so long as we put some distance between us and the Oracle,” Tristan muttered through chattering teeth. “Before she goes into one of her rages and decides to kill us for fun.”

“The Oracle is long gone. We need to get you and Tavion warmed up.” I took the box from him and tightened the cloak around him, his skin like ice to the touch. “You’re half frozen, Tristan. We should get inside and build a fire. Regroup. I need to fill you in on what happened.”

His hazel eyes drifted over to Raz and Tavion, and he gathered my husband’s sopping wet clothes up off the ground. “The only thing that matters is we’re all still alive. For the record, coming back to the palace was Raz’s idea.”

“Thanks a fucking lot, arsehole.”

I smiled at that, cradling the box in my arms. “Of course it was. I’m glad you’re here. I wish I could have used this and ended her for good instead of making another bargain with her.”

“Whatever deal you struck…I trust you, Anaria. We all trust you did the right thing, although…” Tristan’s smile, filled with such certainty, warmed the coldest part of me. “I wouldn’t say no to a fire. It’s cold enough I’m freezing my?—”

“Oh, for the love of all that’s holy, stop talking,” Raz and Tavion grumbled together.

31

ANARIA

Huddled in front of the fire in Bexley’s laboratory—the doors closed tight against the howling, wet wind that blew unchecked through the palace—I finished recounting what happened.

“So…just to make sure I have this right, the Oracle now knows all about the knife?” Tristan asked, color flooding his cheeks. “Including how the weapon was made? That can’t be good. Why did she speak to Ophelia and Gideon…”

“Who?” Tavion barked.

“The two witches we faced at Mysthaven,” Tristan explained. “Why stop in that village three weeks ago if she didn’t know the knife even existed? That’s too big of a coincidence. She had to know it was there.”

“I don’t know.” I chewed my lip. “Maybe she sensed the weapon’s existence but the witches’ magic hid it from her sight? There are so many plots inside her twisted head, I can’t keep track of them all. Maybe this whole knife thing is some sort of misdirection.” I held my hands closer to the fire, trying to bend my stiff fingers. “But one thing remains. The witch warned me using the knife has a cost which appears to be death.”

I looked them all square in the eye. “Maybe the Oracle figures the knife will lead to my eventual end and take care of her problem.”

“Bex, what’s your opinion?” Raz asked. “You’re our resident expert on magical witch shite.”

“What I find more worrisome is she knows how the weapon was forged. And by whom.” Bex’s voice was barely a whisper as he gazed at the box lying on the table. “That day…only the High Priestess of the conclave was present. There were no witnesses, no firsthand accounts, only whispered rumors of how the great weapon was created. But using the knife won’t kill you, Anaria.”

“Tavion would beg to differ,” I muttered.

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