Page 15 of Her Soul for a Crown

“O mighty Heavens and all the wretches between them,” Calu cursed over Reeri’s shoulder.

All else was silence.

Reeri had gone still, his edges frozen like a mountain peak in winter. It could not be that simple. Could it?

The Yakkas gathered around him, stared at the shadow offering betwixt his fingers. A shiver floated through them.

Great Blood Yakka of the Second Heavens, hear my prayer. Grant me the first crown of raejina of Anuradhapura. For today, I offer my soul.

No human had ever sacrificed a soul.

“Wessamony cannot ignore this one,” Kama whispered.

“No,” Reeri agreed.

“What now?” Sohon asked.

“Now”—Reeri stood, gaze toward the court of torment—“I make a bargain with our Lord for us to return to Earth.”

Sounds of anguish greeted him at court.

As Reeri came close, Wessamony leaned toward a Yakka, sharp fingernails pressing in. He slowly clawed at the shadow, striping off a length of their face. The Yakka swallowed a scream.

“I have not summoned you.” Wessamony slashed again, and again, until he extracted a cry.

“No, my Lord.” If shadows had stomachs, Reeri’s would empty itself across the marble floor.

“Why do you disturb me?”

“Grandest apologies.” He falsified a bow. “I have found your offering.”

Wessamony straightened. “A human willing to find the relic?”

“An offering of a soul.”

Wessamony sucked his fangs. Reeri tensed.

Souls held power. It was said Wessamony had wielded one to create the Yakkas and one to create a new form for himself, one without a fetter.

Yet the latter had shriveled into a husk and blown away into the cosmos.

Hunger refocused Wessamony’s eyes. “With that, they can ask for a great many things.”

“Yes. Such sacrifices come with commitment, too. I do not doubt their conviction. They will agree to elevated terms.”

“Then be on with it!”

Reeri shifted. This was his only chance. “First, I have an idea, my Lord.”

“I do not want your ideas,” Wessamony said, beginning a slow walk along the line of bound Yakkas. They shivered as he passed.

Reeri pressed on. “Instead of waiting for the humans to search and find, grant us permission to return to Earth and fetch it ourselves.”

“I cannot undo the banishment, Reeri.”

“No, yet as we have seen, there are loopholes. The offering of a soul—it could be our tether. We would not have our own bodies, but those of others. Once the relic is in our hands, we will return. Atoned and redeemed, to live in your court without torment.”

Wessamony spun. “What be this, terms?”

Reeri squared his shoulders. “A bargain.”

Wessamony’s horns tinted blue.

“For centuries, we have placed success in human hands. Place it now in mine.”

“And the others?”

“It will be faster with four.”

Suspicious eyes narrowed. “All this for atonement? No other scheme, Blood Yakka?”

“It was my fault, as you say my Lord. Is it not, then, my burden?”

Wessamony nodded. “Indeed. You have your bargain. With conditions.”

Reeri held in the relief. “Of course, my Lord.”

“Bring me the Bone Blade by the Maha Equinox in four weeks.” Wessamony smiled.

Or all will join the others in unending torment , Reeri thought, as their Lord had threatened thousands of times before.

“Else you shall be the Yakkas’ tormentor.” Wessamony’s horns flared bright. “For eternity.”

Reeri’s shadows coiled. The faces of his brethren, enthralled in suffering, his hand on a whip, his nails sinking into—

The fault lies with you, Reeri. Never forget that.

“Have we a bargain?” Wessamony asked.

Reeri shook loose the nightmare.

It would not come to pass. He would find the blade. He would kill their Lord.

“Yes.” Reeri brought the glowing shadow offering close and whispered, “Daughter of Earth, your prayer has been heard.”