Page 139 of Her Soul for a Crown
Wessamony chuckled low. “The Heavens should have killed you when they had the chance.”
“My thoughts precisely.”
With a snap of Wessamony’s fingers, stones surged from the pit and soared at Fate. They reached out a glistening hand and dissolved them to dust.
“Yes!” Hashini hissed, watching her precious Divinity.
Fate clapped their hands and ripped chunks out of the walls, crashing them against Wessamony. He snapped and they disintegrated. They fought on, as if only the two of them existed. Anula glanced at Hashini, the Bone Blade clutched in her fist, her eyes on Fate. There couldn’t be a better distraction, for her or Wessamony.
A hand landed on Anula’s shoulder and picked her up off the ground. She groaned, clutching her side. “Hurry. We must find a way out.” Bithul angled her toward the stairs, aiming for the door where his guards worked at the edges, scraping off bits of stone and digging swords into crevices.
“No.” She pushed away. “We have to kill Wessamony.”
“I don’t think you’ll be able to get between them.”
Another crash sounded, the floor shaking as the First and Second Heavens dueled. The amphitheater, which had once felt large enough to swallow half the palace courtyard, now felt tight, small, contained. A cage, for either her or Wessamony.
“We have to try. It’s our only chance.”
A crack whistled by them, and Bithul suddenly cried out. He stumbled, taking Anula down with him as the sound came near again.
Sharpened stones kissed Bithul’s heels. Hashini growled, “You will not escape punishment for bringing back the Yakkas.” She let loose another stone, and Anula jumped. “Nor for aiding and abetting the one who wishes to destroy us all.”
The stone caught Bithul on the ankle and ripped across scarred skin. He howled. “Go! I’ll hold her off.”
Anula flinched and dodged again. In one hand Hashini picked stones from the edge of the pit; in the other, she held tight to the Bone Blade. “She has the relic.”
“Do you know how to use it?”
“The sharp end goes into his chest?”
Another stone hit its mark. Bithul hissed. Hashini snarled and arched back again, as if her pile of rocks would only end when her target died. Bithul adjusted his stance. “I’ll distract her. When I lunge, she’ll have no choice but to drop either her weapon or the blade, and I have a feeling she’ll not let herself be weaponless. Grab the blade and use it as quickly as you can.”
Golden light flashed, stealing Anula’s concentration. The Great Sword had shifted, reflecting the light thrown by Fate’s scales as they spun around Wessamony. As the beam passed her eyes, she fell rigid. Blood was trickling down Reeri’s throat, the cut deepening as the sword pressed closer.
Her heart skipped a beat. What if she was wrong? If the blade didn’t kill Wessamony when she sank it into his chest, what would happen to Reeri? Would he find another body or be taken to Heavenly court, never to be seen again? Or worse, would he be forced to become the monster he feared, to torture his Yakkas for eternity?
No.That wouldn’t happen. She had promised.
“I have to save Reeri first.”
“What?” Bithul grunted, sweat beading on his forehead. “You can’t stop a blessed sword.”
Anula met his gaze. “I have to try.”
“You know he cannot do this—only a human can. Is he what’s most important right now?”
Another stone soared. He winced and rolled away. Anula ducked. The answer to Bithul’s question sparked on her tongue.Yes.
Life was always most important. Even a Yakka’s.
Especially Reeri’s.
Because he cared.
And so did she.
Anula scrambled, leaping over broken stone and tearing to the other side of the pit. At the same time, Bithul’s men cascaded around him, Shahan brandishing his sword at Hashini until she fled, hiding behind a wall of white-eyed people fighting one another.
