Page 102 of Hell-Bound

Why is he showing me this?

She watched as desperate Fae ran from building to building, screaming the names of their loved ones and crying out in agony when they finally located their lifeless, dismembered bodies. Parents wailed, holding their children, while survivors screamed in pain over their broken bodies.

“Stop! Please, no! I can’t watch!” she choked out, more on her emotional pain than the smell of burning flesh.

“But Renata, it was you. You did this to them,” came Nainaur’s voice, gentle but admonishing.

The breath from her lungs was sucked out.

It’s impossible—Renata—no, I would never do this. I could never hurt the defenseless I—

She saw her. Renata. Standing in the throng, her back to Ren, gripping her piccolo.

“You don’tknowyourself, Renata. Youarethis person. By destroying this town and the people in it, you cut off the supply lines from the Unseelie court. You should be proud. You are a hero—The Defender of the Planes.

Air wouldn’t enter her lungs. Her throat was closed, and her vision blurred.

It could be—she couldn’t—

“You need me, Renata. Your soul, bound to hell, is where it deserves to be. You are drenched in sin.”

The memory of her own words assaulted her.“But when is it too much, Zelaia? He’s hurt countless!”

Nainaur continued.

“He helped you forget. Forget your deeds, the screaming faces of children thatyoumurdered for yourgreater good.”

Ren fell to her knees, choking, hands clawing at her neck, desperate for air.

The god didn’t intervene, did not help her. “The only way forward is throughme.I can absolve you, Renata. One deed greater than all your sins. Find the tome or live your life knowing that you can never make up for the pain you have caused.”

She lurched back to the present, still wheezing.

Nainaur stepped over her writhing body, leaving Ren alone.

Stop fighting.

She told her body.

Just die.

Her mind whispered.

Let go.

She tried, she wanted to, but something in her refused, kept hopelessly gasping for snatches of air. The piccolo at her side vibrated gently.

Ren wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, twisting on the floor, but her lungs eventually caught enough oxygen to keep her conscious. She listened to the rhythms of her wheezing breath and watched her chest rise and fall. Everything hurt, but nothing more than her soul—or the place where her soul resided. She couldn’t get up—couldn’t will herself to move. She just stayed there, barely breathing, barely blinking, staring ahead at the dusty underside of the tavern bed and the discarded garbage underneath.

One piece was delicately folded, unlike the wrappings of other long-forgotten food.

At first, Ren could only look at it, body unwilling to cooperate. But after what seemed like an eternity, she moved a shaky hand, slid it to her, and unfolded it.

A note.

Do not trustNainaur. He lies. Love,Jester.

Would you have been proud of me, Ahdan? Would you have given me your blessing to move on? Would you have forgiven me?