Page 101 of Between Sun and Moon

My heart struck a frustrated chord, and I gritted my teeth in anger. This was not how things were supposed to go down. One of the two reasons I had stayed in the castle, away from my loved ones, was so that I could end the king’s reign and give the Cursed a chance to live free and without fear of being persecuted. Now, because of the actions of one love-struck dressmaker, she had single-handedly derailed my plans.

Now, I had no other choice but to fight.

I spread my feet apart and reached for my Water Curse. It answered swiftly, and water emerged from my fingertips, pooling from them. I forged it into a sword, the molecules packed tighter than that of a glistening diamond.

“Guard the king!” shouted a guard.

“Get her!” yelled another.

I stepped one foot over the other, quickly picking up speed when the first guard charged at me.

He withdrew his sword behind his head before he brought it down. I braced the flat part of my blade with one hand and the handle with the other as I blocked and absorbed his blow. Firing up my biceps, I shoved him back with the use of my sword, but just barely. As he stumbled back, I caught the glint of steel in my peripheral.

Twirling, my sword blocked another just before it could chew into my side. I sent my fist sailing into the second guard’s head, knocking his helmet free. Before his helmet struck the ground, my blade found its mark—planting itself into his neck.

Wide, horrified, blue eyes met mine as I slid my sword free, his warm blood seeping out, painting it in the colors of his death. I didn’t wait to see him fall as two more guards came after me. I scrambled away from them, onto a rectangle table full of rolls of fabric. I punted one of the rolls at one guard and used my free hand to water blast another. One guard grabbed hold of the hem of my gown, fisting it in his metal gauntlet. With both hands, I brought my blade down, aiming for the unprotected nook where his gauntlet and the rest of his armor was attached. Hitting its mark, my sword chewed into flesh and wood, pinning his arm to the table.

He screamed in agony as he tried to free his hand. I left my sword there, conjuring another.

Two guards crawled onto the far end of the table. The table groaned in warning before one of the legs snapped and thenthe other leg gave out, that side of the table crashing into the ground. I slid down its top—the tumbling rolls of fabric made it hard to keep my balance, but somehow, I managed. I leapt over top of the two guards that were trying to get back up, using one’s back as a means of launching myself further. When I landed behind them, a sword nearly decapitated me, but I bent backwards, and it skimmed over my torso, cutting a small skiff of my hair off. Righting myself, I shot back up, deflecting another sword, and then another.

More and more guards pooled in around me, shouting and barking like rabid dogs as they tried to take me down. I sliced and blocked and conjured and kicked—I did whatever I had to do.

My lungs were burning, itching for air. They were not used to this amount of exertion or the tightness of my gown and how little breath it allowed me to take. I reached down, asking my inner goddess to help me out, fumbling for my Fire Curse, but neither would answer.

A metal-wrapped fist smashed into the side of my head, setting my cheek on fire and momentarily blurring my vision. I shook my head, trying to clear it as I focused on the guard ahead of me—his body breaking into two forms. I conjured a spear, but never got to throw it.

I cried out in pain as something razor-sharp pierced my flesh, embedding itself into my side, just beneath my ribs. Instantly, my powers wicked out and my sword evaporated. I looked down, peering with wide eyes—

A thin, wood shaft stuck out of my torso, the end vibrating from the velocity of being launched and then suddenly stopped. Blood pooled around the arrow, soaking the fabric of the dress. The shaft was smaller in size, one not made to kill, but rather impair.

And impair it had.

I did not doubt that the point was made of iron, which would explain the sudden loss of my powers. I grabbed onto the thin shaft, about to rip it out when a blade pressed against the side of my throat, the cool metal threatening to chew into it.

“Don’t even think about it,” commanded the guard who wielded the sword.

Although I could not die, that didn’t mean I would not suffer. And the thought of me lying on the ground with my neck slit wide open as my life essence pooled around me, staying like that for Creator only knows how long . . .

Wincing, I dropped my hand from my side and tipped my head in defeat.

Sage

“Idid not kill her!” I pleaded before the king and queen, who sat on their imposing thrones set on a grand dais. From floor to ceiling, a massive arched window towered behind them, its colored glass washing the room in a foreboding red.

The throne room was filled to the brim with people, the majority dressed in rags, their attire telling me that they were commoners and not the nobles and aristocrats who lived in the castle. The fact that the public had come to attend this trial didn’t sit well with me, especially when I thought of the horrors that had taken place during the public Cleansings—how the soldiers liked to make a memorable spectacle of things. The crowd hurled insults at me, attacking my Curse or gender or both.

The king’s courtesan was nowhere to be seen. But considering her sister had just died, I imagined she was beside herself with grief. As for the queen, what she made of all of this I could hardly tell—her expression was as stony as the floor beneath my feet.

My wrists were bound behind my back. Two guards stood beside me, their metal gauntlets cuffing my upper arms, clamped around them like a dog’s locked jaw, refusing to let me free.

Prior to the guards dragging me into the throne room, they had slapped an iron collar around my neck and tore the arrow out. Why they bothered to remove it, I didn’t know.

“Kneel before your king, wench,” the guard who stood behind me said, his sharp sword biting into the side of my neck.

I heeded him little mind, focusing on the person he served.

“Please, your majesty, you must listen to me,” I beseeched the king, struggling against the guards who held my arms.

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