Page 80 of Oath of War
‘You were right, my lord,’ Rowena said, bowing her head. ‘He walked right into the trap. I’m linked to the conduit now.’
Cahyon Abrasan, the infamous Lich King, snapped his fingers, and two golems lunged at me. At the same time, the bastard’s illusion shimmered over his mummified husk as he turned to give me a benevolent smile.
‘Alaric, my child. Welcome home. I have been eagerly awaiting your presence.’
Icursed, struggling in the golems’ grasps until, by sheer luck, I broke free. I drew on my magic to fight back, but the spells flickered and died, the aether drawn into the symbols scrawled on my chest. Rowena stood before me, holding her palm up, and I saw my power gathering there, pulsing obscenely while she smirked, draining my magic.
I wished I had more time to marvel at the phenomenon, but I had only one chance to escape before my sister’s spell once again rendered me helpless. Years of resisting mental torment had strengthened my mind’s defences, but I never had to fight both physically and within my mind, and I was struggling.
Rowena’s smile grew wider with each passing moment. She knew exactly what was happening to me.
Corrupted Moroi crowded in behind the Lich King as he observed my attempts to fight with a bored expression and slightly raised brow.
‘Are you sure you can contain him?’ he asked Ro as moremonsters entered the room to subdue me. I flipped up my daggers, cutting my way to freedom, but as soon as I despatched one, two more took its place, and without my magic, the outlook was grim. Still, I knew giving up meant a fate worse than death.
‘Once I have him in chains, yes,’ Rowena answered. ‘He already can’t cast. As for his fighting prowess, I’m sure you can take care of it, my lord.’ Her voice was so indifferent that I couldn’t help looking at her in horror. Triumph and cruelty warred for dominance on her face, transforming it into a mask of terrifying disdain.
A memory flashed before my mind’s eye: the vjesci, moments before I dismantled his forced existence in the dungeons of Varta Fortress.
‘Trust nothing your sister says.’
I should have listened. Instead, I’d walked into a trap, right into my own worst nightmare.
‘Give up, Alaric,’ she jeered as I sank a dagger into another attacker’s heart. ‘Didn’t you want us to be one big, happy family again?’
‘My only family now is safe in Varta Fortress,’ I snarled through clenched teeth. I was fighting like a demon, my enemies piling up beneath my feet as I took one step after another, closer to the window, closer to freedom.
He’ll eventually run out of monsters, I thought, hissing in pain when a Moroi’s clawed hand ripped through the fabric of my shirt, gouging chunks from my skin. My sister frowned, watching my fight with disbelief as I gained another step closer to the window.
‘My lord,’ Rowena said, ‘if you want me to fulfil my promise, we can’t let him escape.’
Raw power hit me in the back, sending me to my knees. Thorny vines sprang from the walls, binding me. My daggers clattered to the stone floor as Cahyon placed his hand on mysister’s shoulder before his stare bored into my mind, his power forcing my submission.
‘Surrender, Alaric. You are strong, but I am immortal, and this land will do as I order,’ he said when I continued to repel him.
It was a miracle that I could still think, and I saw the frown on Cahyon’s face. He hadn’t expected my resistance, but the shard of Annika’s soul within me seemed to disrupt hostile magic, protecting me in a way I didn’t realise was possible.
That tiny shard of the woman I loved fought against the combined force of a dreamwalker and the damn Lich King, protecting my mind even when my body had been defeated. I was losing the battle, and I knew it. Worse, as long as I was alive, my sister had a link to Annika.
It was my turn to protect my domina.
I let the thorns rip the flesh of my wrists as I scrambled for my daggers, thanking the Dark Mother when my fingers closed around the hilt of the closest one. I turned the blade inwards, twisting and straining to press it to my throat.
Forgive me, my love,I thought, throwing myself forward as the palace convulsed. The last thing I saw was a raw stream of aether streaking down to rip me apart.
***
‘Don’t move. You’ll only make it worse,’ said a soft voice, and I felt soothing cold moisture trail across my throat.
‘Annika?’
That’s all I managed to say, my voice dry and broken, but even as I asked it, I already knew the answer. The person near me was not my Ani, despite her gentle and caring touch. I forced myself to focus, meeting the gaze of my healer.
The woman was dressed in a loose garment tied at the waist with a hood that covered her head. A brass mask covered her face, and only her brilliant, bright green eyes were visible.
‘Who are you?’ I asked.
‘She is Lara, an uncorrupted healer of this dead kingdom.’
