Page 23 of Winds of Darkness
Moranna’s lip curled up into a sneer despite the agony. “Eliné,” she hissed. “In service to the daughter of the traitorous ones. I told Alaric to take care of her.” She grimaced when Rayner twisted the dagger. “But even she is not powerful enough. Fae magic cannot take my life. As much as this hurts, it is nothing compared to what your punishment will be for this poor choice,” she gasped. She coughed then, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.
“I know that too,” Rayner answered, reaching with his other hand to swipe up the blood with his fingertip. He began drawing a Mark on her chest.
Right above the Blood Mark he’d stabbed the dagger into. In a moment, he would place the final line of that Mark and trigger whatever magic was in the dagger. It might take his life, it might not. But in the off chance he survived …
“What are you doing?” Moranna gasped, struggling even more beneath him.
“I want this enchantment you have around these islands,” he replied, continuing the Mark. “When you are gone from this world, living your eternity in the Pits of Torment, I want these islands to die with you. No one will inhabit them ever again. I want to know if someone sets foot on them.”
She laughed, and it turned into another cough, more blood sliding down her chin. “My sweet, naïve, Ash Rider. Not only is your sister bound here by these wards, you can only transfer this enchantment with Blood Magic, and there is only one being who has created such a Mark.”
“Then this one shouldn’t affect you,” Rayner said, his manic grin growing when Moranna went still beneath him. “I think you already know I can use the Marks though, and once I control the enchantments, I can let Aravis leave them.”
“Rayner, wait,” she gasped. “Wait, you don’t know everything. Let me explain—”
But she was arching off the bed again when he completed the Mark, the dagger sinking deeper into her chest. He felt it. The shift. Something settling over him, and then he couldfeelthe islands themselves. Every soul moving among them. Those in the cliffs. The merchants at the docks. All of them.
“You are going to regret that,” Moranna snarled.
Rayner said nothing. Just lifted his hand, showing her his still-bleeding palm. “The Fae Queen also gave me this dagger. Said it was imbued by the first Water Prince at the Eternal Springs.”
Her thrashing turned frantic, hands clawing at him. “Please, Rayner. Whatever you like, it is yours. You want to leave? Go! You want to take Aravis with you? It is done!”
He bent over her once more, the dagger sliding in to the hilt. “The only thing I want,your Grace, is for your death to be as painful as possible. The Fae Queen assured me that would be the case.”
He moved to bring his hand down, but her nails raked down his arm, drawing more blood. He tried to brush her hand aside, but she dug her nails in further. With a final yank, he pulled free, grasping the dagger with his bleeding hand.
But not before her fingers hooked on the deathstone band in her desperate attempts to stop him. The band slid off, being flung through the air at the same time that black flames flared out from the dagger. Rayner was thrown off of her, flying across the room by the blast of the flames. Flames that were so hot he should have been incinerated on the spot, but his ashes were pouring out of him, a tight shield forming and growing thicker as it strained to guard him from the onslaught of dark fire.
Moranna was screaming, and Rayner flipped onto his hands and knees to watch as the black flames consumed her. Eliné had promised she would suffer, and she hadn’t been lying. His magic was being pushed to its limits as it held back the flames from reaching him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. And that was fine. He would go to his death willingly as soon as he was sure Moranna had gone there first.
Her screams died moments before his magic gave out, and when silence settled, he felt a ripple of power rush from the room. He didn’t know what it was or what it meant, and he frankly didn’t give a fuck.
Rayner stumbled to his feet, going to the bed to find nothing. Not even ashes. The black flames had consumed every last bit of her. The dagger was gone. Nothing left but scorched sheets and memories.
He turned back to the dressing room, getting dressed and strapping his weapons back into place before looping his cloak over his arm. He had arranged for merchant ships to be waiting offshore, waiting for his signal. All the innocents would come with him today. Any overseers and guards remaining would meet their deaths. When he left the islands today, they would be nothing but the graveyard he’d once said they would be.
But Aravis was first. He would get her to the merchant ships, then come back for the rest.
He raced down the stairs as fast as he could without tripping over his own feet. He was exhausted. He hadn’t planned to use all of his magic reserves so quickly. It would take months to replenishany of it, and he felt hollow and empty without the comfort of his ashes.
He threw open the door to Aravis’s room to find her curled in a ball on her bed, tears still streaming. She looked up at him, eyes rimmed in red.
“It’s over.” That was all he could say. He couldn’t get anything else past the lump in his throat. But he took a step closer to her, and she was up and off the bed, throwing her arms around his neck. She clung to him, and he embraced her just as hard. “I am sorry it took so long,” he murmured.
She just cried, her tears soaking into his tunic.
After several minutes, he gently eased her back, wrapping his cloak around her shoulders. “Are you ready to see the sun?”
She smiled—a real one—through her tears. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Rayner, I am ready to see the sun.”
Her hand gripped tightly in his, he led her out of the secret passageway and back up to Moranna’s rooms. He took her straight through, not letting her take in the space. He didn’t want any more of her memories to be made here. They took a side stairwell that was only used by Moranna and her personal guard. It was so tight, they could only move single file down the stairs, designed that way for the Baroness’s protection he’d once been told.
When they reached the bottom, they came out right next to the hall that would lead to the exit. He had Aravis wait while he took care of the guards at the archway. She didn’t need to see that. She’d seen enough death to last lifetimes.
He could feel her trembling when they approached the archway, and he glanced down at her while they waited for it to form completely. She was decades old and had never seen the sun or the sky. She had never seen the sea or felt the breeze on her face. The entirety of her life had been lived inside these cliffs.
He wanted to watch every moment as she took this all in.
