Page 181 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts
Viktor faced the unseen enemy he had to overcome. No, it wasn’t the magical barrier. It wouldn’t last against the symbols tattooed on his back by Rafael. It was himself.
The trial exists in your mind, Viktor. You are both the accused, the prosecutor, and the judge. Only you.Rafael’s words had etched themselves into his thoughts as deeply as the tattoos had into his flesh.
For all these years, he had never judged in his own favour. Now, he was about to do something that would tip the scales. He refused to accept the finality ofMrita Hara. This couldn’t be the end.
He would forcehimto return – his animal spirit, his will, his inner drive – until they became one again, a cohesive whole.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” he said to the others in a fake light tone.
But his resolve was genuine. Ever since he’d discovered the power of his tattoo, he’d wondered why Rafael had given it to him. Had Rafael foreseen the need for it in that cavern in Alberobello? Or had he anticipated this very moment – a magical barrier Viktor would have to breach to save the Hospital and Amelia?
Whatever lay behind Rafael’s intentions, Viktor had to act now.
“Take cover once you’ve removed the stone. Don’t face the reptilians alone!” Presiyan warned, facing the upper Hospital levels. The screams coming from inside tore at Viktor’s heart –voices that belonged to friends and allies.
“We’ll see each other on the other side, my friend,” Mikhail said, his expression strained with tension.
The manticore paced restlessly near the magical barrier, his movements wild and desperate. Some agents were firing at the harpies, but the distance was too great for their shots to hit. The creatures inside the Hospital were dying, while those outside, trapped by the barrier, could do nothing but watch.
Viktor would change that. With a determination he hadn’t felt in years, he moved along the barrier, heading towards where they believed one of the stones was located.
He cast one last glance at the building before stepping back a few metres. Then, he sprinted in the direction of the barrier. His first and second attempts failed to carry him to the top, but on the third, he vaulted over, gripping the sharp spikes with his hands.
For a moment, he froze, his heart pounding in anticipation.
The barrier didn’t fry him. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Pulling himself up, he balanced precariously on the narrow ledge beside the spikes. They were packed tightly, obstructing his view of the courtyard. He climbed higher, risking his future ability to father children – not that he planned on having more.
When he landed on the other side, sweat clung to his brow, but his efforts paid off. He immediately spotted his target. Still perched on the barrier, he gripped the spikes with one hand while drawing his gun with the other. He aimed at the draconium stone – a slender, crystalline column about a metre tall, its pale pink surface shimmering in the dawn’s light.
From the shadow of a nearby tree, a colossal figure emerged. Viktor’s attention faltered for just a second, but it was enough to miss his shot.
As he realigned his aim, the figure leapt onto the magical barrier in front of him. If he’d had the time, Viktor might havecursed.
The last thing he saw before being shoved down into the courtyard was an enraged golden demon.
***
Amelia
Amelia called upon the necrosis, begging it to flow from her hands and decay the ropes binding her wrists. Her prayer swelled into a silent scream in her heart – a scream no one answered. Sevar stepped behind her, his claws digging into her shoulders and pinning her in place.
For a fleeting moment, she met the cold, swirling eyes of the ayradjakli. Then, swallowing the bitterness rising in her throat, she focused on the Queen. She would stare into those elliptical pupils during her last moments.
Her heart clenched, then galloped, sensing its end had come and frantically searching for a way to outrun fate. Amelia struggled to steady her breath, to stop trembling, to keep the tears at bay. But they fell anyway, wetting her cheeks.
She had failed. She had failed Mikhail and all those she had promised to help in stopping the Queen. She had failed every one of the prisoners in the Hospital, whose hearts were being ripped out at that very moment to power the opening of a portal to war.
The final hundred metres. The last challenge. A dizzying failure.
The Queen examined Amelia’s blouse as if calculating where to make the incision. Then, suddenly, her attention veered far ahead. “Sevar, what’s going on? I ordered the harpies to ensure no one left the building alive!”
“No one is leaving, Your Majesty. The harpies are taking the hearts and gathering them in the designated spot,” came thereptilian’s impassive reply from behind Amelia.
“The barrier – is it still active?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
