Page 64 of Between Fear and Favor

“She doesn’t speak of you, that is certain. Yelling, cursing, raging? Yes. But speaking? No.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. They were watching her. I considered abandoning this fight to rift to Crown Cottage with haste. We’d known sending her there was a risk, but with Shivani, Thyra, a small regiment at my Second’s disposal, and the powerful wards in place, we thought it would be enough. But somehow, they knew what my daughter was doing. The contents of my stomach threatened to end up on the ground.

“If anyone touches her, they will die slowly.”

“You will have to kill the Folterran princeling, then, I suppose.” Cethina’s voice grew stronger—more singsong. “Loads of touching, they’ve likely been doing.” I turned as I sensed her circling me. She began to whistle a tune that I couldn’t quite place—some Folterran tavern song, if my memory served.

My eyes widened in recognition. The taunting, the pretty face.

The eyes.

“Declan sowed his seed all over the Three Kingdoms, didn’t he?”

There was no response, only pain, as ten whips of shadow cracked in unison, slamming into my body from below. Wrapping beneath my armor, up my thighs and around my torso, the sting was horrific. While I’d watched for her and been unable to see her, while she’d taunted and I’d responded, she’d been working her shadows across the ground to attack me. Encircling myself in an orb of my divine fire, I severed their connection. I licked my lips, tasting the errant drop of my blood which had flicked free from my wounds.

“The only parent I know is my mother. Nereza, Queen of Nythyr, and soon to be Empress of the Three Kingdoms,” Cethina shouted, and I knew I had struck a nerve.

“She will have to pry Vesta from our cold, dead grasp,” I countered, readying myself for another attack. But I nearly doubled over when acid tore through my veins. “Fuck,” I grunted, realizing my mistake. While attempting to save my divinity for attacking Cethina, I’d forgotten to heal my wounds. And she’d been counting on it.

I could feel the blight beneath my skin, pulsing as it wriggled toward my heart.

“Can’t give them my blood if you sully it,” I hissed, listening as Cethina’s footsteps paused. She’d clearly forgotten what she was here for. I’d rattled her by mentioning Declan.

“Heal yourself,” she demanded, moving closer. My fire guttered and spit in my outstretched hand, and I could just make out her silhouette. Snappy, her voice betrayed her nervousness. There would be consequences if she killed me and ruined my blood.

What could the Supreme possibly want as a favor from the gods? If I were dead, he would certainly get what he wanted, wouldn’t he? Unless, he didn’t want the Three Kingdoms. He needed my blood for something, and if dying this way meant he didn’t get it, perhaps it was a viable alternative.

“Heal yourself!” Cethina screeched, stomping closer, bending over me.

I did as I was told. Wrenching control of the shadows inside me, I held them still. Without hesitation, I burned the blight from my veins with divine heat. I screamed as my insides burst into flame and my healing divinity followed behind. And then, just as Cethina stepped back, I let my divinity soar.

Pure, white fire burst from my body, banishing Cethina’s shadows and setting everything ablaze. The conduit writhed on the ground, her clothing on fire, and the surrounding buildings erupted. Panting, I stood, stumbling over to her. My body ached, and it felt like my skin was boiling beneath my armor.

But I was alive.

“Surrender,” I said, unsheathing my sword while I held my divine fire in my free hand. Despite my desire to kill her for what she’d done to my people, I thought it best to question her instead—so I chose mercy. Cethina’s breathing was shallow, and she began to retch. The pungent scent of bile hit me, and my own stomach nearly responded in sympathy. “Roll over,” I said, looking for the nearest Vestian soldier to fetch me obsidian chains.

A rattling cough ripped from Cethina’s slim frame, and I thought perhaps I’d killed her. Just as I was about to use my boot to roll her onto her back, shadows poured from her, rising slowly from her body.

A dark serpent rose above her, as thick as a tree, and I watched in horror as the shadows swirled and grew denser within it. Soon, it towered over me. Coaxing my light to grow brighter in my hands, I was certain it was the only thing keeping the monster from striking.

Cethina laughed as I stepped back. Sitting up, she groaned in pain, and I noticed a few Nythyrian soldiers standing at the end of the street—watching and waiting to intervene.

I couldn’t let the snake grow any larger, or it would be that much harder to defeat, so I attacked. My divine fire struck through its long body, rending it in two, yet the shadows filled the gap immediately.

The beast retaliated.

Fast as lightning, it lunged, its open maw stretching wide enough to swallow me whole. I didn’t have time to react as it consumed me. Its teeth were sharp as it grazed my flesh, despite being made from shadow. Dully, I wondered if Cethina could infuse memory into this beast and make it more corporeal like my dragons. It certainly felt real, as I found myself in the shadowed belly of the serpent, unable to see.

Setting myself ablaze once more, this time, I left my divine fire to its own devices. I kept myself safe within the orb it created, but as the swirling, white flames grew, it became harder to manage. The serpent hissed, nearly deafening, as my divinity obliterated Cethina’s shadows.

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t see Cethina, but I let the flames grow and grow until I heard her cries. And I let them linger. She would scream for every person she’d given an agonizing death to. The woman had not been merciful, so neither would I.

In a final push to save herself, those wicked tendrils of shadow snaked beneath my fire, and wrapped around my ankle. Before I could detach them from me, they yanked—and I fell.

“Please,” she begged, dragging me across the ground toward her. My nostrils stung with the scent of singed hair, and the sight of her was something that would keep me awake for many nights to come. Patches of hair were missing from her scalp, her skin molten.

I wasn’t sure if it was kindness or a desire to stop looking at her burning body that led me to coax her shadows into my control. Was it vengeance which made me wrap those shadows around her throat? Was it ruinous pride when I used her divinity to wrench her head from her neck?

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