Page 45 of Oath of Betrayal
The only reason for her to have created him—other than the most dreadful—was that she did it to send me a message that maybe she’d found a way to escape.
‘I don’t know her reasons, but she made me and many others. Our lord asks, and she creates: strigae, ghouls, spectrae—she makes them all,’ he said, turning the blood in my veins to ice.
I needed a moment to compose myself, and I turned my gaze to the wall, focusing on the droplets of water tracking their wayalong the granite. No matter how hard I stared, there was no escape from what I’d heard. It was true that vjesci were demons of bad tidings and death, because I felt that whatever he was going to say would be the death of me.
‘Who were you?’ I asked.
‘Were? I am Tarant Sethan, from the noble House of Nightfall.’
For a moment, I felt pity for the being who still considered himself a part of a family wiped out during the Necromancer’s War. The Moroi of the Nightfall clan were skilled in diplomacy and illusion. Tales of old spoke of the banquets they threw for foreign dignitaries, the spectacles so grandiose and full of light that everyone who witnessed them was spellbound by the power of Ozar and its culture.
‘State your message, and I will let you find peace,’ I commanded, and the vjesci’s eyes turned milky white.
‘Son of Shen’ra, you have something I want. You will bring the conduit mage to my court. In exchange, I will allow your sister to leave if she chooses. Fail to deliver the mage before winter, and I will send Rowena back to you one piece at a time.’
The voice that uttered its demands was different from the demon’s. It was emotionless, almost monotone as if the Vel was reading a message burned into its mind. A wave of power washed outwards, forcing me back as the vjesci’s face changed. It was the being who’d sent the message now in front of me, looking at me through the Vel demon’s eyes.
‘Oh no, you don’t, you bastard. Possessing this corpse from such a distance won’t allow you to influence me.’ I quickly drew several sigils, pushing them forward, and purple flames wrapped around the vjesci like thorny vines, lifting the undead off the floor. It laughed, and the sound of it sent a shiver down my spine.
‘Now, now, Alaric, don’t you remember what happened to the last member of your family who defied me? Or was yourmother’s corpse not a strong enough message? You will be mine, boy. As will your new toy.’
Agony pierced my chest. Silver symbols crawled under my skin, burning with icy fire, and I felt like an open book while the Lich King looked directly into my very soul.What have you done to me, mother?I thought, dropping to my knees, clutching at my kaftan.
‘She screamed so beautifully as I tore her soul apart. When I was done, your father sent what was left of her, a corpse filled with a maelstrom of hate and magic, back to you. Do you know why? Even with her last breath, your mother begged me to spare Rowena, giving me you in return—and I did.’
His gloating expression made my blood boil, but I silently stumbled to my feet to stand before the Lich King’s effigy as he continued.
‘You’re beginning to understand, aren’t you, boy? Your mother sacrificed you to save your sister. That curse etched into your body marks you as my creature. The pain you feel now? It will be nothing compared to the inferno that will consume you when I touch your soul. Bring me the mage, or you will soon beg for the sweet release of death.’
Fury so wild and consuming overwhelmed me and I screamed in anguish. As the last echoes of my despair faded, I sobbed. ‘Why did my father not stop this? How did you corrupt him so completely that he forgot even the little love he had for my mother?’ I asked the one question that had troubled me all these centuries. My father—harsh and cruel as he could be—had never hurt my mother, the only person able to calm his anger.
‘Fool. You think your father cared for that woman? Roan chose a human because he despised his kin. He didn’t want to be one of those men kept as breeding stock like prize bulls. A sweet, innocent human would do as she was told and give himchildren to continue the bloodline before quietly dying once her usefulness expired.’
I knew he hated fae women, but that my mother’s only value in his eyes was as a broodmare? It explained many of my father’s actions. I wished I could have kept the delusion that, at the beginning at least, she meant something to him. The revelations I was being forced to confront left me feeling numb inside.
Everything I believed in had crumbled to dust at my feet. I had loved my mother. Even after her spirit cursed me and forced me to take a blood oath, I still loved her, explaining away her actions. Yet now I knew she’d traded one child for another—the son who was the spitting image of the monster she married … for the bright, shining star that was my sister.
I braced myself as I stared at the vjesci, its ghastly smile mocking the tightening purple flames around its body.
‘You have until winter. If the first snow falls on the courtyard of Katrass and you are not here with the conduit mage, I will see how much blood Rowena can lose before she joins her mother beyond the Veil. Then I will come tear down the Barrier and findyou.’
‘We will strengthen the Barrier,’ I lied, and the corpse laughed.
‘No, you won’t. The damaged keystone weakens with each passing day. Do you seriously think one conduit mage can restore it? The Barrier will fall, it isalreadyfalling. The Rift is growing, just like my army, and when I flood your kingdoms with monsters, even your empress will bow to me. We will see where you stand when that happens: by my side, together with your father—or under my boot with the rest of them.’
I’d heard enough. Despite the pain, or maybebecauseof it, my necromancy felt more potent than ever, and I used that strength to garrotte the talking corpse. The purple flames dug into the creature’s flesh, dismantling the spell that animated it as they dismantled the vjesci’s body. With one last grimace, the LichKing’s visage disappeared, and I was left looking at the face of the proud Moroi once again.
‘Are you going to destroy me?’ he asked wistfully, emotion softening his voice, and I nodded, unable to prevent compassion from reaching my eyes. He was as much a victim of that madman as I was.
‘Yes.’
‘I’m glad. It’s past time I rejoined my kin,’ Tarant stated, looking me in the eye as I dismantled the magic tying the remains of his spirit to this realm. ‘Don’t believe anything your sister tells you.’
His last words haunted me, his remains falling to the floor with the final syllable, decomposing with unnatural speed when the ravages of time caught up with him. The muscles of my legs gave out as I released my hold on the aether, and I sat with a thud.
All these years, I’d had a purpose. A purpose that held back the few moments of self-pity I’d felt in my darkest days. Now I knew that everything I’d believed in was a lie, and there was no longer any way to pretend I was a hero saving the imprisoned princess.
The dead couldn’t lie to a necromancer. My parents had betrayed me. Those who should’ve loved me the most had used me as a bargaining chip to save their favoured child, and I had stepped into the trap, willingly submitting myself to centuries of torment.
