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The Queen’s eyes gleamed dangerously. “And lose the hearts I’ll use to open a portal to Surat? Did you know that this year’s solstice is a rare event, the first time in centuries that the timelines of past, present, and future converge? There will never be a better moment to put hearts to good use!”

The Hospital shuddered once more. The woman wouldn’t stop until the building collapsed, and Amelia still didn’t know the Sacreds’ names. She couldn’t save the prisoners, her friends outside, or anyone else.

“You created the new species!” Amelia yelled. “With this war, you’ll destroy everything you’ve built!”

“The only thing I did was cater to the whims of two ungrateful fools!” the Queen snapped, her fury sending another surge of energy beams towards the Hospital. “Once I’m done with them, I’ll start anew. I’ll build a kingdom shaped by my ideals!”

Amelia recoiled helplessly. She couldn’t reason with this woman.

Something caught her eye on the other side of the gate. Her chest constricted with the weight of despair. He was too far away for his features to be clear, but she would always recognise him. Mikhail stood on the other side of the magical barrier.

Her throat burned. The Hospital was the most important thing in his life, and now he was forced to watch it crumble without being able to fight for its salvation. Despite the pain he’d caused her, she could feel his anguish as if it were her own. Mere hours ago, in the car with him, she had understood what it meant to be powerless when the thing you cared most about slipped through your fingers. And no matter how far apart they had drifted, in that moment, their grief mirrored one another.

“It won’t work like this,” the Queen muttered.

A sudden wave of relief swept over Amelia, so intense it made her dizzy. But it didn’t last.

“I’ll activate the Sacreds!”

Amelia’s head shot up. “You’ll die.”

The Queen’s answering smile sent an icy chill through Amelia’s core. “No, dear. You’ll ensure my protection. Ayradjakli!”

The name reverberated in Amelia’s ears.

He materialised from the air itself, an ordinary-looking man in colourful clothes, his purple irises spinning in their sockets. He met Amelia’s gaze with cool indifference. No, he couldn’t side with the Queen!

The Queen looked at him with her chin held high. “Ayradjakli, I offer you the heart of the Oracle of the Sacreds, infused with witch’s blood. In return, I want magical protection against the energy of the activated Sacreds. Is it possible?”

The violet discs rotated. “Maybe. I need to smell it first.”

Amelia’s body went rigid. Her heart. They were going to take her heart.

It thrashed in her chest, as if it understood – pounding wildly, desperate to be spared. Panic surged through her veins. She yanked against the ropes around her wrists, fighting with every ounce of strength she had. “And in addition,” the Queen raised her voice, “I offer you the hearts of all the creatures in the building behind me to open a portal to Surat!”

The witcher gazed at the Hospital, as though assessing its architecture. “That…is very much possible,” he said at last.

“BEGIN!” the Queen bellowed, tilting her face towards the sky.

The air filled with the beating of black wings. Their movements stirred the wind, lifting Amelia’s hair. Then came the screams – horrific cries of agony.

A body fell just a few metres away. It wasn’t a harpy oranyone familiar, but a helpless woman who was still alive. A harpy swooped down and clawed at the woman’s chest until it tore out her beating heart. Holding it up as if it were a trophy, the creature flew off with a screech of its wings.

Amelia looked back at the Hospital, each breath a struggle. The harpies were flooding into the building through the windows.

“You helped to create this hospital!” she shouted at the witcher. “How can you let her destroy it?”

He had helped her once – helped her escape, helped her find the necklace.

“He doesn’t care about causes, Amelia,” the Queen shouted over the noise. “He only cares about hearts! Sevar, give me the knife!”

The reptilian retrieved a small knife from beneath his jacket and handed it to the Queen. She tucked the mirror into a strap at her waist to free her hand. Holding the blade with her gloved fingers, she stepped towards Amelia.

“I had planned to save you for a more important stage of the war with Surat, but it seems your journey ends here. You were never anything special, anyway.” She pressed the blade against Amelia’s chest. “And now, I’ll gladly make a dissection of your miserable, immortal heart.”

64

Viktor