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CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Ryker

The earl’s castle was a mess when I returned to it. They didn’t restrain the carnage to the ballroom, as bodies littered the dining area, entrance hall, and bailey. I already knew more bodies were in the gardens, and I was sure the battle and bodies had spread to other parts of the castle.

No one came out to greet me as I strode through the main hall, sidestepping corpses and puddles of blood. I’d survived the Ghoul War, Doomed Valley, and the ophidians, but something about this scene disturbed me.

This wasn’t a battlefield, and it wasn’t a cloying, oppressive jungle full of monsters who thrived on flesh. This was the heart of my homeland, and many of the dead were unsuspecting men and women.

Yes, many of them were also assholes, but some were like Ellery and forced to attend to kiss the asses of their tormenters. None of them had asked for this.

I understood why the earl’s servants banded against him and wanted to take down the king, but they’d also unleashed their wrath on the innocent.

When I arrived at the ballroom, I hesitated on the threshold. Corpses were scattered everywhere, but my eyes immediately found Ellery’s mother. She remained where I’d last seen her, propped on the spear with her heart at the end of it.

I almost strode across the room to pull her off the spear but restrained myself. I wasn’t alone in this room and would only draw unwanted curiosity if I did so.

I shifted my attention from the woman who deserved much better than this to the men and women gathered on the dais. A contingent of guards surrounded them.

Ivan and my father stood in the center of the dais. Bria stood at my father’s side, but while her violent introduction to Tempest should have rattled her, she remained composed as she surveyed the destruction with no indication it disturbed her.

Blood coated almost every inch of the floor and splattered the walls. The floors were coated in cloying, drying blood and puddles from the rain. Nothing remained on the walls.

The tornadoes and my thunder had torn up chunks of the floor that had captured some of the corpses. Those bodies lay at odd angles.

Appendages were scattered everywhere, and the whole room stank of blood, already decaying flesh, urine, and shit. Far too many had lost control of their bowels, either from panic or death.

“Where have you been?” Ivan demanded.

As I crossed toward them, I waved a hand around the room while weaving through the bloody remains. “Escaping the mayhem… like all of you.”

I couldn’t tell if the earl was furious or petrified. His face was drawn, and his skin seemed pulled more firmly over his cheekbones.

No color remained in his face or compressed lips. Standing beside him, his sons were pale and twitchy.

Dozens of amsirah were on their knees before the dais. Their arms and legs were chained behind their backs by manacles, most likely spelled to suppress an amsirah’s powers. Some of them sobbed, but others didn’t make a sound.

I didn’t have to ask; I knew these poor bastards were the rebellious servants they’d captured. What remained of their fate wouldn’t be an easy one.

When they shifted, the chains rattled, and my skin prickled as memories of my imprisonment tried to bubble to the surface. I’d once been trapped and helpless too.

I’d once listened to metal bars clang and rattle as ophidians removed us from our cells to do to us what should never be done to another. A clammy sweat beaded my forehead; I wiped it away before digging my nails into my palms to maintain control.

Now wasn’t the time to get buried in memories. I may not be back with the ophidians, but the amsirah on the dais were as big of snakes as those monsters… if not bigger. And if I wasn’t careful, I’d wind up dead.