Page 84
Story: A Game of Monsters
Seraphine regarded me again, looked to the corridor at her back, then back to me. “Are you sure, Robin?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. My body was trembling with unspent desire to cause destruction. I feared if Seraphine stayed close, and the true storm inside of me released, she’d suffer the same fate as the Nephilim.
The part of me I was about to give in to was a place of no control.
“The Nephilim’s strength comes in battle when they’re airborne,” I said, a devious smile pulling at my lips. “What better way to cull the flock, than clipping the little birds’ wings?”
Little bird. Just saying it aloud made me think of Erix. If Elinor died from being crushed by falling stone, how did Erix fare after shielding Duncan and I from the debris?
If I contemplated the outcome too long, I would break apart.
“Survive this first move on the game board, Robin.” Seraphine clutched my arm, drawing me back out of my thoughts. “And good luck.”
My brow furrowed. “I’ll be fine.”
Because no physical pain could compare to the turmoil inside of me.
Seraphine left me, sweeping back into the shadows of the corridor, slithering away to locate my allies. I had just enough time to move myself into a better position to greet the Nephilim. Focusing my intent, I walked carefully to the end of the corridor, nestling myself in the crook beneath the stairs. Just in time, because the door above deck flung open and Nephilim came racing down into the belly of the ship. I counted five of them, and inside of my prison of ice there were almost twenty. That left a handful still unaccounted for, as per Seraphine’s information.
I’d worry about them next.
The Nephilim, wings folded and weapons drawn, turned toward the room of screaming comrades. I slipped from the darkness, following behind them, revealing myself only when they were cornered between the frozen door and me.
In each of them, I saw Cassial. No matter their physical differences, they were all the same. Angelic warriors meant to disarm us, make the world trust them with their ringlet curls, bright eyes, feathered wings and the promise of a new world.
It was all a lie. All of it.
And Elinor Oakstorm was dead because of them.
My power didn’t need encouragement to leave me. Before the first Nephilim could turn around and find me behind them, I released it.
Roaring winds ripped down the corridor, blasting the five warriors in their backs. One was forced into the frozen door, the others smashing into the walls around it. I smiled as one of my enemies yelled out for help as half his face was left stuck to the frozen door, dripping blood quickly crystalising.
I wanted them all to scream.
I searched for moisture, anything I could find. In the air, on their bodies, even liquid inside of them – and whatever my power touched, I turned to solid ice.
Screams died on lips, turning to puffs of mist as my magic reached deep inside of their bodies and overcame them. I forced my way into every possible orifice, filling mouths, ears and eyes. Then, as their skin turned to fragile ice, their veins hardening, I weighed their hearts down with ice, cracking them with my power, just as my own had splintered in my chest.
I grabbed the neck of one of the Nephilim, fragile, glass-like skin beneath my grasp. They looked up at me with haunting fear clinging to wide eyes, face a mess of blood and ruin. One jolt, one harsh squeeze was all it would take for me to kill them. It took effort not to give into that dark desire… not yet at least.
“Answer my question and you will live to see another day,” I spat.
The Nephilim broke into snivels and whimpers, aware that their friends and allies lay around us in chunks of smattered flesh. “Any – anything.”
“Is Althea Cedarfall alive?” I knew the answer but required confirmation from the beast’s mouth. Jesibel, as much as I hoped she’d walked into my dream, it was still up for debate. But this Nephilim beneath my grasp could confirm my hopes and fears with a single word.
My fingers dug deeper, as if clawing the answer out.
“Yes,” they panted. “Althea Cedarfall is – is with the – Saviour.” Their expression changed from fear to hate, lip curling, teeth bared. “And he will destroy–”
Magic burst from beneath my hand, encasing the Nephilim’s head in my power. All it took was one harsh tug, and their neck tore free, the head tumbling off their shoulders from the lack of support. Their spine had become fragile beneath my magic, breaking like a twig to stone as it tumbled onto the death-ridden floor.
“That’s forAlthea.” I forced out my words, knowing that the five warriors didn’t hear them because they were already dead.
I turned my back on the corpses, flexing my hand at my side. I left the weakening Nephilim beyond the door to slowly perish in the low temperatures inside the room, with nothing but the view of death outside of their little window. My focus was elsewhere, my power all-consuming, still begging for more torment.
I wouldn’t remember walking to the deck of the ship. My legs moved of their own accord, my mind lost to thoughts of my friend – her poppy-red hair, sarcastic quips, beautiful smile and eyes once full of life.
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