Page 273 of Cursed Evermore

Night Mother's kiss.The same poison that killed my father.

A stone dropped into the pit of my stomach, and my mind struggled to process what I was truly seeing.

It wasn't until the guard rolled his head to the side that I realized it was Marcus, the same guard I'd spared last week when I found out his baby had the Slivershade blight.

Bastian and the others raced outside upon hearing the commotion. I threw up a shield quickly to hold them back. Apart from Arielle, one touch of the Night Mother's kiss and they'd die.

Within seconds, they noticed the black liquid on Marcus and understood why I'd kept them away.

"Gods, what's happening?" Elariya winced.

"Stay back." I held up my hand and cast a shield around her, too. It shouldn't harm her, either, but I didn't want to take any risks.

Marcus' eyes fluttered open, and he looked straight at me. I was shocked to see he was still alive.

“Lord Nightblade. Don’t come near me.” When he coughed, black liquid spilled from his lips. His hands trembled as he tried to raise them. “I’ve been poisoned.”

“What happened to you, Marcus?” I stepped closer, heart hammering. “Who poisoned you?”

“I… did it myself.” His chest seized, a ragged breath tearing through him.

My eyes widened. “Why?”

“To find the truth… my king.” His voice cracked on the last word, but I felt the respect he honored me. “No time. Must be quick. I stole… a compass.” His hand shook as he fumbled at his side, pressing the device into my palm. “Found a way intothe camp. But…I had to take Night Mother’s kiss to breach the wards.”

He convulsed, choking down another mouthful of black fluid.

“It’s the only way in,” he rasped. “To see their secrets… you must lose your essence. To die. Unless they give you the protective tonic.”

“Who isthey?” I demanded.

“I don’t know. They wore black cloaks. They whispered with no lips. Watched with no eyes.” His body shuddered violently. “Use the compass I gave you. Go back to Kyphuus. Go before they return. You’ll be shocked by what you find.”

My blood ran cold. “What’s there, Marcus?”

“Death.” He wheezed. “Death and sorcery of the darkest kind. They used the herbs… for a ritual I’ve never seen before. Too late. I was too late. They killed them all.” His voice cracked. “Even the children.”

He coughed harder, every word ripped from him. “I don’t know what they’re planning. But it’s big. Go see for yourself. Then…find the necromancer. The one they call… the Soul Weaver.”

I stiffened. I knew the name. The Soul Weaver was more demon than necromancer and did the bidding of anyone who could pad his pockets with enough gold or magic. He was dangerous, unpredictable, and almost as elusive as the Seer.

Marcus shuddered, spit flecked with tar spraying his chin. “He performed the spells.” The words rattled out of him like the last grains of sand in an hourglass.

“The darkness is coming, my King. They’re coming for all of us.” His voice broke into a ragged scream. “You are being watched. Those hollow eyes. Gods, those hollow eyes!”

He convulsed, screaming, black liquid pouring from his mouth and nose.

“Marcus!”

His gaze flicked to mine one last time, full of pleading. “Take care of my little girl. Tell her… I didn’t die a traitor. Not to my king. Not to Galaythia.” His voice cracked into a final, desperate cry then words I didn’t understand. An old tongue. Ancient. Desperate. “Asailaeth! Asailaeth! Asailaeth!”

Tar spewed out of his mouth, his nose, his eyes.

He was dead before he even drew his last breath. The tar swallowed him whole, slick and relentless, devouring him from the inside out. It had to be down to the sheer volume of poison he’d taken. I’d never witnessed anything like it. Not even in the worst of battles.

After my father’s attack, we had to use a spell to move his body, ensuring no one else was contaminated. But Marcus… Marcus rotted in front of us. The poison gnawed through his armor, eating flesh and bone until all that remained was a blackened puddle. Then, as if the world itself rejected him, the remnants unraveled into smoke and scattered on the wind, drifting away as if he’d never existed.

Marcus—the guard who’d sacrificed his life for his baby and now his kingdom.