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CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

I T DIDN’T TAKE AN EAGLE’S EYESIGHT to know where Damien had fled to. He had nowhere else to hide now that his people had turned on him. But his people didn’t know of the cells below the city. It was a secret to most. That’s why it was where he had spent most of the battle. The place where it had all started for me. The place of my nightmares, so even in victory, Damien had to remind me of the pain he’d caused.

The years Maerhal and I had spent locked down there. The weeks he had caged Nikolai inside the same cell as some kind of mental torture.

The tunnel to the black cells had been cleared. Thick wooden posts replaced the jagged rocks from the previous cave-in and protected against another. My mouth went dry as a hint of Elven wine wafted up from the lowest depths of the cavern, carried on a whistling breeze that reminded me of a faraway scream. My fists tightened around the blades I’d taken from dead men, and I listened for heartbeats waiting in the cells below. There was only one, faint in the distance, but it still sent a shiver down my spine.

This was likely one last trap Damien had set. I turned back to where the light from the upper level was just visible along the steep hill. I thought about waiting for the others. I shouldn’t go alone. But I wanted to be the one to end it. And I wanted to do it on my own. Thirty years of grief had hardened my resolve. My magic coursed through my veins and tingled in every muscle. Whatever Damien had waiting for me down there, I could face and win.

We already had.

I pulled a faebead from the small pouch tied to my belt and crushed it with the toe of my boot. I followed the amber glow with my arms held in front of me, ready for a surprise attack from any twist or curve of the tunnel. But none of Damien’s guards were lurking in the shadows. Instead, I found the room of black cells well-lit for the first time in my life. Giant torches flamed along the walls every few feet, filling the air with the stench of smoke. I didn’t cough. Somehow the fire felt more like a cleanse, burning away the air Damien breathed before it reached my lungs.

He was sitting on his throne. I could only imagine his soldiers’ faces when he ordered them to carry the gilded chair into the depths of the earth for their king. Did they know this would be his tomb? Maybe that’s what Damien wanted. He sipped from a bulbous goblet decorated with rubies the size of my fist. Black currant and cherry filled the smoky air as he drank.

Damien’s eyes narrowed. He gestured at the slab of marble beside him. There was a canister of wine and a matching goblet. “Join me for a last drink?”

I raised a brow. “Your last or mine?”

There was something smug in Damien’s smile that set me on edge. He seemed too pleased with himself for a man determined to die on his father’s chair.

“That depends.” His good eye glinted over the goblet as he took another sip. “Though I suspect both.”

I scoffed. “Your shadow army is destroyed. Your soldiers are dead or too wounded to fight. And the armada you purchased has fled.”

Damien’s mouth didn’t even twitch. “Which is why I came here. A fitting place for the end of our game, I think.” His jade eye looked at the ground. He had placed himself directly between the doors of my cell and Maerhal’s. Bile crawled up my throat.

“How do you still not see what you’ve done? The people you’ve toyed with, the pain you’ve caused your own citizens? Are they truly nothing more to you than some pawns on a board to move and sacrifice at will?”

Damien drummed his fingers along his armrest. “Why should I care for the fear of those too meek to seek power when I was on the path to become a god?”

“You have fallen short.” I glanced at the one gray hair above his left ear.

Damien scowled. “I should have attacked the Faeland years ago. The day my father found you in that Rift and took it as a sign of fortune rather than an omen of rebellion.”

I smirked. None of the titles anyone had ever given me felt true. Not Blade, not savior or leader. But omen felt right. Haunting. Just like my face would haunt Damien into whatever world followed this. I let my hand fall to the white hilt of my dagger but didn’t unsheathe it. Damien noticed and his lip twitched. Not in fear, but impatience.

I tilted my head. I had been dancing with Damien for too long and had witnessed too many people’s last moments not to find the reaction odd. A man who spent his entire life searching for immortality would not be eager in death, even when he knew death was inescapable.

Damien still had one last secret.

I turned and scoured the room. I sent a gust of wind up the tunnel, letting the faelight that had followed me light the path, but no one was there. I stilled. No heartbeats other than Damien’s or mine. We were alone. There was no ambush waiting for me.

“I’m glad to see you’re learning.” Damien’s smirk was devilish.

I didn’t waste time on questions. I used the thrashing power in my stomach to pull a thin strand of wine from Damien’s carafe. It floated through the air like a snake, slithering toward his lips. He refused to open them, so I sent the wine up his nose. Damien jerked in his chair as the cool liquid made a sharp curve down his throat. But I didn’t let it fall into his stomach. I wanted answers, and despite the ornate crown Damien had on his head, he was just like any other man. He would succumb to pain.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” I walked toward him as he writhed, and I placed a hand on the back of his chair. I leaned down close enough that my fangs could rip out his throat if needed. “It will only get worse as your lungs fill with fluid. Soon they’ll be so heavy they’ll begin to tear.”

Thick tears streamed from Damien’s bloodshot eye, but the black one was completely dry. He tried to breathe but his mouth only gurgled with wine-stained spit.

“If you don’t tell me, the next flush will not be so gentle.” I let go of the throne and stopped my magic. The wine fell in thick drops as Damien collapsed. He coughed up mouthfuls of bloody wine onto the ground and broke into a fit of laughter when he could finally taste air again.

“All the ways you could torture me, and you go for drowning?” He spat the rest of the wine at my boots. “Such magic is a waste on the likes of you.”

My lip curled back in disgust. Even crumpled at my feet, Damien still hungered for the power to hurt people. I fought the urge to drown those fantasies from his mind forever. “Speak or I will show you how inventive I can be.”

Damien wiped his mouth on his sleeve and leaned back on the throne, throwing his arm onto the seat. His damp skin was warmed by the glow of the torches.

I lifted my hand, fingers laced in flame. “Now.”

“Magic is a powerful force.” Damien’s smug grin returned though his neck twinged in pain with each breath. “You have more than demonstrated how it can be used against your enemies, but you forget, Keera, that your enemy can use it against you.”

The flames in my hand flared, turning almost white. “Do I look like someone patient enough for riddles and speeches?”

Damien lifted his chin. “Do you recall that blood oath you made?” His lip twitched upward. “Outside of Caerth. You smeared your amber blood across that pitiful Elf’s face and swore no harm would come to him.”

The blood drained from my face, leaving nothing but cold fear. “How do you know about that? Why would Nikolai—”

Damien raised the brow over his black eye. “He never said a word. Loyal to a fault.”

He tapped his temple. Nikolai might not have said anything, but Damien didn’t share a connection with his mind. He couldn’t have plucked the memory from Nikolai’s dreams. I had almost forgotten the oath entirely. Why would Nikolai worry himself with that memory while locked in a dungeon?

There was only one other person Damien could have learned that from.

Collin.

“But he wasn’t there …” I thought aloud trying to piece together Damien’s last puzzle. My breath hitched. Collin hadn’t been there the night I made that oath, but he had been in the audience the night of Nikolai’s feast celebrating the return of Maerhal. The night he told the Elverin of the oath I had made only days into our alliance to help me earn their trust.

I closed my hand and the flames sputtered out. “What does an old oath have to do with this? Is this truly what you want to spend your last words discussing?”

Damien shook his head like a disappointed tutor about to chastise a student. “I know that when you made that oath, you knew little of magic. You didn’t know what you had promised. But how can you not see it now?”

I snarled, making sure my fangs were on full display. “I would never hurt Nikolai.”

“Yes, you would.”

I kicked him in the gut. Damien merely coughed and wiped his face again. Red blood smeared across his jaw and cheek. It was like an unmasking, his feral, predatory self finally on display with nothing to hide. The sight unnerved me.

“Explain or I will burn you until your skin blisters to ash, then heal you so I can do it again.”

The briefest look of fear flashed across Damien’s face before settling into cool resolve. He hoisted his other arm behind him so he was leaning against the throne, casual and unperturbed. Damien still thought he was in control. I gritted my teeth and started to pull the air from his lungs. He coughed and waved his hand.

“There was no time limit on your oath, Keera.” He paused, making sure I had ceased my attack before continuing. “You made yourself vulnerable. For as long as you and Nikolai both live, you cannot do him harm. If you do, you die.”

I laughed. “Most people don’t have trouble not inflicting harm on their friends.” I had bruised and nicked Nikolai many times in training practice. And I had definitely pained him emotionally more times than I liked to admit. None of those instances had triggered the oath. Damien was too confident. Feron had taught me enough of magic to know that the oath would only hold me to the spirit in which it was made. That night I wanted to convince Riven and Syrra that I wouldn’t kill their friend. And Nikolai was nothing but safe around my blades.

“Yes, I’m aware of the sentimentality of lesser creatures.” Damien started to pull at the cufflinks along his left sleeve. “It’s what makes you so easy to manipulate.”

He pulled back the fine black fabric of his sleeve. A burn circled his wrist. It was beautiful, delicate wisps of fine lines that would settle to an almost unnoticeable silver.

It matched the one around Nikolai’s wrist.

“This is why you didn’t kill him?” Rage radiated through me with so much force my voice shook.

Damien gave me a feline smirk. “I couldn’t kill him. If he dies, I die. That’s how tethers work.”

I froze. Tethers were rivers that flowed in both directions.

“So when you kill me, you will be killing your precious Nikolai too,” Damien said, reading the fear on my face. “And that blood oath you were so foolish to have made will claim your life for it. I may not have won our game, Keera, but neither have you.”

My lips quivered as I threw my words at him like flaming arrows. “We have shattered your kingdom into pieces.”

Damien’s grin was dangerous. “And if you kill me, you won’t live to see them fall.”

“Did you think that would protect you?” I paced in front of him, needing somewhere to focus my energy so I could think. “Bind your life to Nikolai’s, and we would let you live out the rest of your days in a cell instead of hanging you from the city wall?”

Damien jutted his chin at my exposed arms with a laugh. “You wear the truth on your flesh and still don’t see it?” He shook his head. “You have been weighing the value of people’s lives for your entire tenure as Blade. Deciding whose life was worth the risk and whose was not. Rudimentary and uncalibrated, but the math is written on your skin all the same.”

“Make your point,” I demanded through clenched teeth.

“I didn’t tether my life to that dirty Elf as a chance to save myself, Keera. I know you too well for that.” There was a glint in Damien’s dark eye. His tongue ran across his bottom lip. Damien wanted this. He knew that one life, even one I cared about or would kill a thousand soldiers for, would not be enough for me to spare him.

It wasn’t worth the risk.

“You have a debt to pay,” he whispered. Damien knew the truth of it now; he knew how we had deceived him, but he also knew exactly what that night meant to me.

I had a vow to honor.

A promise.

Damien unbuttoned his collar to reveal the glowing light embedded into his chest. The pendant. Damien was using it to call back one of the remaining shirak. A loud screech shook the ground as the beast circled overhead. The skies had filled with smoke again, allowing it to fly freely. There was no time to get anyone else. There was no time to defend them before the beast attacked. My heart hammered in my chest. The fields were full of innocents collecting the dead. Many who would die if I didn’t end this now. I could see Damien’s heart beating behind the pendant—they were fused as one. Breaking it would kill him. And that would kill Nikolai.

My throat tightened. Had I not fought Riven and the others on trading the pendant because I knew that Nik’s life was not worth hundreds? Had I not said that I would want any of them to make the right choice and let me die?

Damien had put me in the same position—balancing the value of people’s lives until the very end. The job had always been mine. At least this time it would cost me my own.

I clasped the hilt of my dagger and pulled it out of its sheath. I couldn’t save Nikolai. He wouldn’t want me to, not if it meant dozens of deaths in an attack from the remaining shirak . But perhaps he could have a few more moments with Vrail. One last kiss, the farewell I had never gotten with Brenna.

Death didn’t scare me. Hildegard and Brenna would be waiting. Syrra, too. And my promise would be fulfilled. I had worked through my regrets. I had overcome that darkness that had taken root in me. I would die happy knowing that Riven would have the chance to do the same. My only qualm was having to take Nikolai with me.

I waved my hand and two orbs of wind appeared, the size of a small faelight. I gently coaxed the smaller one to my lips and whispered a message for Vrail.

“Go to Nikolai. His time has come.” With a second wave of my hand, I sent the ball whirling up the tunnel to find her. I only hoped Nikolai was close enough and she had enough time to reach him before I plunged my dagger through Damien’s heart.

The second orb floated on my finger, as gentle as a kiss. I had whispered so many things to Riven in our short time together, shown him my love in ways words could never match. I had to trust that he would hold onto the truth of those memories as I said the things Riven needed to hear into the braided gust of wind.

“There is no one more worthy of my love than you, rovaa . I regret nothing, not a moment. Take care of Gwyn and Gerarda. May you find as much comfort with them as they gave me.” I took a ragged breath and wiped my nose. “Braid your hair into mine and kiss me one more time before you light my pyre. And when you bury my diizra, bury Brenna’s with it. Because my heart is yours, but hers was mine. Live long and well, Riventh Numenthira, I will wait for you.”

My heart split in half as I waved my hand and my final words were sent to Riven. I was grateful that his powers were gone, so the world would not be launched into an endless night when he heard them. I lifted the dagger. The shirak shrieked outside, skating the walls of the tunnel. There was no time left. Damien wheezed over his throne, the pendant in his chest glowing brighter.

Blood oozed from his mouth. “Touching.”

I didn’t say a word. Those last words I had spoken to Riven were the truest I had ever said in my life. If I was going to die, I wanted to die with my love for him coating my lips and not a snide remark for a man I loathed.

A tear fell from my cheek and landed on Damien’s forehead as he looked up at me. His mouth fell open and a pitiful puff of air escaped in shock as I rammed my bloodstone dagger through his chest. It shattered the pendant and pierced Damien’s heart—the dagger he had made me use to claim Brenna’s life. It was only fitting that it should be the one to end his and mine too. My only regret was that Nikolai would be caught in the bloodshed, but that was worth the end of Aemon’s line.

The terror was over.

Damien fell to the ground first. He rasped for air, and each exhale splattered blood along his face and the ground. Something sharp pierced my leg and I crumpled. When I looked, nothing was there. The magic of my broken oath was invisible but deadly. It pierced my arm and my back arched in pain. Then it sliced through my chest just as I had with Damien and everything went still. Warm blood soaked through my leathers and covered my belly. I lay on the ground staring at Damien’s face. The ring of amber in his black eye rippled like the small waves in a pond. I watched as they slowed, the life draining out of me too.

Blood pooled from Damien’s lips, thick and hot against my face. He could barely move his mouth, but somehow he had the strength for one last word.

“Draw.”

My laugh was nothing but my own blood. It spotted his face in amber, and I smiled knowing the last image I would see was Damien coated in the color of blood he hated. I hoped they didn’t wipe it off before they presented his body to the city. The last of my magic whirled around the dungeon and blew out the torches. I closed my eyes, imagining that the shadows were one last embrace from Riven, and died.