Page 61 of Crown of Storm and Silence
The creature in the cage begins to keen, a sound like a dying infant that echoes off the stone walls. Around us, the otherOburlean forward with obvious anticipation, their eyes glowing with reflected hunger.
"The beauty of it," the leader continues, producing a thin silver blade that gleams with unnatural light, "is that it won't kill the child. Oh no, that would be wasteful. It will simply... diminish it. Strip away layer after layer of potential until what's born is nothing more than an empty shell. A hollow mockery of what should have been magnificent."
He brings the blade closer to my belly, and I can feel its cold radiating through my dress. "But don't worry, my dear. You'll live to see your broken creation draw its first breath. You'll get to hold it, love it, knowing that I'm the one who stole its soul before it ever had a chance to shine."
An explosion rocks the chamber.
The chamber door doesn't open—it disintegrates. Stone and iron vaporize under an assault of pure golden light that turns the vampire nest into a miniature sun. Several vampires scream and burst into flame as radiance washes over them, their ancient flesh unable to withstand such concentrated purity.
Through the blazing doorway comes a figure I recognize with desperate relief—Banu, her delicate features twisted with righteous fury, power crackling around her small form like bottled lightning.
"Get away from her!" she shrieks, her musical voice distorted by rage. Light erupts from her hands in focused beams, taking oneOburthrough the chest and reducing him to ash. Another tries to rush her and meets the same fate, crumbling to dust before he can reach her.
"Banu!" I sob, relief flooding through me so intensely it makes me dizzy. "Oh gods, Banu, help me!"
She spins toward my voice, and the devastation that crosses her delicate features when she sees my condition makes her power flare brighter, more destructive. "What have they done to you?" she breathes, and there's murder in her ancient eyes.
"The baby," I gasp, feeling another wave of wetness between my legs. "He's trying to—please, the baby?—"
"I'll kill them all," she promises, and light erupts from her small form with annihilating force. Two moreOburscream and dissolve, their existence snuffed out in seconds.
The leader tears himself away from me with a snarl of frustrated hunger, his elongated tongue snapping back to normal length as he spins to face this new threat. Blood—my blood—stains his mouth and chin, and the sight makes Banu's fury reach incandescent levels.
"A fairy," he laughs, though there's wariness in his pale eyes now. "How delightful. Two courses for the price of one."
"You disgusting parasite," Banu spits, advancing into the chamber with power blazing around her like armor. "You violate pregnant women and torture children. There's a special place in Hell for creatures like you."
She's magnificent in her fury—terrible and beautiful and absolutely lethal as she faces down creatures that have fed on mortal terror for centuries. Her light burns away the shadows, revealing the full horror of this place in stark detail that makes my stomach heave.
But she's also small, delicate, and there are still too many of them.
"Banu, don't—" I try to warn her, but my voice is too weak, too broken by screaming.
The remainingOburcircle her like wolves, testing her defenses, probing for weakness. When they strike, it's with coordinated precision that speaks of countless hunts together.
Banu destroys three more before the leader reaches her.
She fights like a creature possessed, her small hands weaving patterns of destruction that turnOburflesh to ash and bone to dust. For a moment, I dare to hope that she might actually succeed, that her ancient power might be enough to save us both.
But the leader is older, stronger, more cunning than the others. He comes at her from the side while she's focused on two attackers in front, his blow sending her flying into the stone wall with bone-crushing force.
The sound of her impact—the wet crack of breaking bones, the soft thud as she hits the floor—makes my heart stop completely.
"No!" I scream, struggling against my chains with desperate strength. "Banu!"
Her light flickers and dims as she slides to the floor, golden blood streaming from her mouth, her delicate wings crumpled at unnatural angles. One of them is clearly broken, the gossamer membrane torn and hanging in tatters.
"Brave little morsel," he purrs, stalking toward her fallen form. "But ultimately futile."
"Leave her alone!" I sob, my voice cracking with desperation. "Please!"
But he is already kneeling beside Banu's broken form, his fangs extending with eager hunger. "Such pure light," he murmurs. "It will make an exquisite appetizer before the main course."
"Please," Banu whispers, blood frothing at her lips as she tries to speak. "Don't... don't let them hurt her baby. She's... she's everything to me."
The words spark a memory and emotion that crashes through the barriers in my mind. Not full remembrance, but flashes—moments of joy and laughter, of sisterhood deeper than blood.
Banu holding my hair while I'm sick with morning sickness, her small hands gentle and soothing.
