Page 92 of A Blightress of Wrath
Moirajabbed a thumb atFiguerah. “Sheheld your head the whole time.”
Adeep laugh came from his chest, whichClairanniasmiled about, and he turned, thankingFiguerahas well.
“CanI?”Iasked, raising a fist to my mouth.
Clairannianodded. “Burnthem.They’redead now anyway.”Shetook one last look at the seal of skin running across the width ofPompeii’schest before pulling his shirt closed and letting him button it. “Yourlives and magic are linked.”Hergaze caught mine as she scrubbed blood from her hands. “Youhave more than one life in your hands now,Karus.”
Ilocked eyes withPompeii.Theangle of kohl across his lids was smeared on one side.Itbrought a sense of imperfection to his usual perfect golden skin and immaculate mustache and beard.Iattempted to force my way into his mind, searching for that connection theBlightressandIhad shared.Metwith silence,Ismiled wearily.
Hischin rose and he swallowed, repeating, “Thankyou,BaronKarus.”
Ibrought my lips together and bit down, my heart broken for this man who did so much for us.Myheart broken for his lover, a young channeler who may never see her sister again, and an ancient cook who had sacrificed her own life to save ours.
Itwisted away, unable to speak, taking with me the remnants of flesh displayed in fresh blood upon a porcelain painted platter.
* * *
Itfelt good to burn.
Ifelt the pressure of a woman’s voice beginning her speech of somethingIdid not want to hear, andIpushed it away, forcing her dark presence back into her corner.
Iallowed myself to enjoy the sight of theBlight, bonded with human flesh, burning on a pyre of my making.
Thepops and crackling of whatever underlying atrocity his lungs had been formed into lifted through the air at the small stream fed from the tower of black rocks leading to the charred maple tree.Onlynow, the new life of regrowth wound its way over the blackened bark, confirming that it was not dead, but in the midst of rebirth.
“Thatwas quite a feat.”
Ijumped, taken out of my trance of watching the flame lick over black flesh.Adaynthleaned against a rock, his arms folded across his chest in the exact imageIhad first seen of him all those months ago.
“Idid not invite you here,”Istated, folding my own arms across my belly, adding, “andIam not dreaming.”
“Youspent all your effort forcingVisaliaaway from your mind just now, soIthought it prudent to take advantage and try to talk some sense into you.”
Iscoffed. “Youcould leave me instead.You’regood at that.”
Hisjaw slid to the side and his eyes narrowed in whatIrecognized as malice. “Thisis my last attempt to convince you of anything.Thelonger you are quiet, the soonerIcan leave.”
Ibent to the clear stream, running my hands through the cool water and rinsing them of any remnants ofPompeii’sblood. “Ishall be silent as the grave then.”
Helifted one leg over the other in a casual grace. “Yourplan to spend twenty years building an army of magic wielders to subdue theBlightresswill not work.”
Icontinued to rinse, keeping to my agreement of refraining to speak.
“Shewill not wait that long to strike, and the next time she comes, she will not fail.”
Inodded, rising to face him.
Hewatched me in strained silence.
Ishrugged. “Isthat it?”
“Iwas hoping you’d agree with me.”
“AndifIdo, what solutions do you bring?Whatshould we be doing instead?”
Hegritted his teeth and spoke through them. “Ido not know.”
Ihuffed a laugh, stepping closer. “Whata resource we have then.Acenturies oldBaronwho comes as a harbinger of doom with no ideas to replace the ones we have.”Inodded my head to him in mock respect. “Thankyou for your concern,BaronAdaynth.Ilook forward to your silence in my thoughts and dreams here on out.”
