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Chapter thirty-four

HYACINTH

A harsh wind rustled my curls as I pulled the collar of my coat higher around my neck to protect against the chill it held.

“We should use this ceremony as a distraction. The Silliands and Ammord are bound to find out it is happening with Cain lurking. They will not expect us to break into Camp Bane that same night,” Andrues said, holding a map out in front of him as Wren, Landers, and I huddled around to look at it.

“That could work,” Wren said, nodding as he looked up at Landers.

“We should place Dukovich and Ata in Sethros before we do it. Having them cause a commotion in the capitol while we are moving toward the island will keep their eyes off of us, and hopefully flush out the spy that bought the information from Nox.”

I sidestepped into Landers’s warmth as I pulled my eyes away from the map. “And we are sure Cain is still loyal to Ammord?”

Andrues and Landers exchanged a glance before Andrues tucked the map inside his jacket and looked over at me.

“I cannot say for certain that he still is, but with Redelvtum fallen, his only other choice would be The Silliands, and they do nothing without Ammord’s blessing.”

I nodded, rubbing my hands together as I looked up at Landers. “Well, breaking into a death camp seems like the perfect wedding night.”

“Nothing like a little infiltration on your first night as Queen,” Landers said, grinning down at me.

“Is that Yenne?” Andrues asked, looking over my head and I looked over my shoulder to see Ata and her walking toward us.

I nodded.

“She’s teaching Ata now I guess,” I said, glancing back to see a small, proud smile creep onto Andrues’s face.

“Coven Mother,” Landers greeted, bowing his head in respect as they reached us.

Yenne dipped her head toward him. “Me King. What are ye doin’ out in ze cold like zis?”

“Unfortunately, we have some business that cannot be conducted inside those walls,” Landers answered, gesturing his head toward the castle.

“Ah, issit because of ze evil ye ‘ave in ye prisons? Zere ‘as been an evil lurkin’ ‘ere since ye came inta Locdragoon nine months ago. But ze feelin’ ‘as doubled in ze last few weeks.”

My brows furrowed as my eyes flashed between her and Landers. “What do you mean, Yenne?

She stared at us for a long moment before she nodded. “Ye d’na know what is in ye dungeons do ye?”

“It’s just petty criminals and Taft down there,” Ata said, looking at me with the same confusion etched onto her face before looking back to Yenne. “He is a piece of shit, and I would definitely call him evil, but why do you think that?”

“Zat issa daemon, I ‘ave sensed it. Ye c’na keep a daemon caged, it is only ‘ere because it chooses ta be.”

I could feel the color drain from my face as I turned toward Landers to see the vein in his neck rapidly pumping.

Andrues took a cautious step toward Yenne. “You can sense daemons?”

“All witches can.” She gestured her head toward Ata. “If zis one can learn ta control ‘er visions, I will be teachin’ zat next.”

I nodded, slowly taking a step away from them.

“Thank you, Yenne,” I said, bowing my head as I took another step backward. “I think . . . I will just go pay our friend a visit.”

Before any of them could respond, I tethered, my heart pumping furiously in my chest as I tore through the blackness toward the prison’s entrance.

Daemons were not born, they were made. And could only be made with the use of black magic and pure Hanth blood. They answered to no one except their creator. They were bonded to them in a similar way that I was to Nithra with the fastening.

I was already running by the time my boots hit the stone steps, the guards’ backs immediately snapping straight as they watched me fly down the stairs with wide eyes.

“Open it,” I growled, pressing my palm to the door.

They listened instantly, pushing their keys into the door and laying their hands atop the metal.

I was going to kill him.

I had given him every chance, every opportunity to help us. Now, knowing that he would never break, never give us anything— he would not live past the hour.

I threw myself through the doors as they cracked open, taking the stairs two at a time as I raced to the bottom of the prison.

“Who are you?” The question was a snarl that erupted from my mouth like the clap of thunder as my shadows slammed Taft against the bars of his cage.

My hand shot in the gaps between the metal, clasping around his throat as shadow flowed around his neck like a noose.

“I am nobody,” he hissed, struggling against my restraints.

My grip tightened. “You’re from Ammord, you’re a Daemon, I know that now. Whose Daemon are you?”

A vile smile cracked onto his lips at my words as the echo of footsteps pounding against stone began to fill the small space.

I pulled my fingers from his neck, pushing dark matter into the lock and breaking it open as I stepped inside the cell.

Taft took a small step backward as my shadows pulled the door shut behind me.

My fingers spread at my sides, green and black energy cracking and snaking around them as I took another step closer.

“Who is your master?”

“You will find out soon enough,” Taft said as his eyes flickered to the stairs opening.

I turned my head to the side as Landers, Andrues, Wren, and Ata broke through the opening, one after another.

“Hyacinth . . .” Landers said as he took a careful step toward the cage we were locked inside of. I locked my eyes on his and he gave me one small nod. “Today is the day he dies.”

A slow grin slithered onto my face as I turned back to Taft and watched as he raised his hands out to me in supplication, his eyes darting between mine and the four that stared behind me.

“Are you going to give me any information?” I asked.

“No,” Taft spat as I lowered myself in front of him.

“That’s what I figured,” I said, letting out a small sigh.

I reached my fingers out, running them along his jaw and down his neck, letting them linger over his chest as the death magic crackled at my fingertips.

“You see, Taft, it took me a while to realize that, in all those years of tearing me down, telling me I was worthless without you—it didn’t break me.

It built me. You built me into something ruthless and I should thank you for that.

You just didn’t anticipate the consequences of your creation, that it would be the very thing that kills you. ”

My fingers plunged into his chest, magic ripping through flesh, clearing the path for my fist to clamp around his heart. An agonizing scream left his lungs as my shadows wrapped around him, holding him upright.

His eyes were locked onto mine, short bursts of breath coming out between his screams as my grip tightened on his life force.

“You cannot stop her plan!” he screamed again. “If you do this, she wins.” The words poured from his mouth in agonized gasps as his eyes pleaded with me, begging me to spare him.

“Whose plan?” I growled, tugging on his heart as another harrowing scream wracked his body.

His head slumped forward as he pulled in a ragged breath.

“Goodbye, Hyacinth,” Taft breathed, dragging his head from his chest, the movement slow and pained. “I will always love you.”

A snarl tore from my throat at the sound of those words as my fingers tightened around his beating heart and ripped it from his chest. His body slumped to the floor as my shadows released him. And where there should have been crimson flowing from underneath his dead body, a black liquid ran.

Static roared between my ears as I looked down at the muscle gasping for its last bit of life in my palm, blackened and hard as an onyx stone. I let it roll from my fingertips, landing beside his body as that black substance dripped from my hand where it had sat.

My shadows retreated into me as I slowly turned, the cell gate swinging open as my eyes connected with Landers.

“Burn him.”

Landers didn’t hesitate as he stepped into the cage with me, his hand reaching down to squeeze mine for only a second before slipping behind me.

I felt the heat of fire at my back and watched as Ata’s eyes widened.

Not at me, not at what I had done, but from the flame I knew she had just seen drip from Landers’s lips.

The smell of burning flesh filled the prison and Landers came to my side, his hand falling to the dip in my back as he led me out through the cell door.

Silence pulsed between the five of us as the flames set the golden cage alight.

I turned toward the stairs and climbed from the depths of the prison—away from the scent of Taft’s burning body.

My throat swelled, my hands beginning to shake as I swallowed back the sickness that was turning in my stomach.

We stepped into the dim afternoon light, our boots crunching over the frozen snow as I sucked in a deep breath and felt the warmth of Landers’s arms wrap around me.

“Are you okay?” he whispered against my ear as he pulled my back to his chest.

I tilted my chin up to look at him nodding as his lips brushed against my forehead. I was surprisingly okay. The sickness wasn’t from guilt or the violence of what I had just done, but from what he had said.

If you do this, she wins.

The sentence danced in my head, playing over and over again.

“No daemon is that easy to kill. Their creators can call on them at any time, pull them out of any situation,” Andrues said, his voice grave as he looked over at us. “He was meant to die here today.”

“I know,” I whispered as a chill tightened around my spine.

“Does anyone else feel like . . . this just became a lot bigger than a war between realms?” Ata asked, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes flickered over us.

“Daemons can be used as a conduit by their masters and Taft has been with us since we were children. I think it’s safe to assume anything ever spoken in his presence has been heard by someone else.

Whatever plan he’s speaking of, it’s not new. ”

A heavy silence fell, the weight of Ata’s words settling into it like a warning.

“Where did you interrogate Brakan when he was brought into Locdragoon?” The question was a low growl as it rolled from Landers’s lips and Wren’s complexion paled at the sound of it.

Wren swallowed. “In the cell next to Taft.”

“This stays between the five of us, not a single word to anyone outside of this group do you understand?” Landers said, his body tensing against me.

“What about—”

“Not a single word,” Landers snapped, cutting Wren off. Wren gave a sharp nod, clasping his hands behind his back as Landers continued. “I need you to get your best officer and meet with Malik again, see if there is any information on who in Ammord may be creating daemons.”

“I will leave tonight with Pri,” Wren said.

Landers shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “No, I need her to rest. Find someone else.”

Wren’s jaw tightened, but he nodded in acquiescence. “Understood. I’ll find someone suitable,” he replied, his expression betraying a hint of frustration as he tethered from our sides.

“Tell Elric I need a list of every person that has spoken to Taft since his arrival here, and that we need to speak to them,” Landers said to Andrues, the muscles across his body rippling with tension.

“Go,” I breathed, letting my hand fall to Landers’s chest as I turned toward him. “Take care of what you need.”

His lips fell to mine as he pulled me a little tighter against his body and kissed me. There was an urgency to the kiss and I felt it too, swelling in my chest—almost as if we were living on borrowed time.