Page 65 of Her Soul for a Crown

Reeri held his breath, dared not to swallow against the cold, sharp iron, lest the Great Sword took one more bite out of his neck, ended the life he possessed and sent him far from Anula.

At least she was safe, with the guruthuma disarmed and dying, yet the relic—

For the thousandth time, Wessamony snapped his fingers, blue flame scorching his twisted horns.

A smile curled on his lips as he sensed his power, gathered it up, and poured it out on the remaining humans.

Any who were not already safely bound stiffened, eyes clouding, lips pulling back, the violence of nature taking hold.

All the while, the sound of sharpened iron skittered across stone.

They kicked the relic away as they raced toward Fate. The Divinity turned and lifted a hand, creating another pit betwixt them. Without hesitation, Wessamony’s army fell inside. He snarled. Fate wasted no time, arcing their arm up and out. A bolt of lightning careened toward the dark Lord.

“Enough of this!” Wessamony boomed, baring his teeth and flicking his wrist.

The Golden Sword flew on the Lord’s command.

Reeri finally let out his breath, and the Yakkas crashed to the floor.

Throat leaking, he watched as the sword rushed before Wessamony, the lightning striking the sharp gold and bouncing off, exploding instead into the wall.

Rock rolled down, pulverizing the stairs and striking more than one person.

Reeri’s heart skipped a beat. Was it his person? A plume of dust filled the room. He squinted and coughed, the dust stinging his wound, strangling his sight as he searched for Anula. Fate flicked their tail, breaking the cloud apart, and there, he caught her eyes.

Anula paused, and for a moment, it was just them.

The cacophony of battle disappeared into a mere vibration.

Only relief echoed at each other’s safety, and desire sang.

To touch, to hold, to run away. It caught in her lungs and stole his breath.

O Heavens, if he could live in this moment for all eternity.

If only—yet they both knew that if they wanted that chance, a future and a life, they must get the relic.

Anula’s lips thinned, and she nodded before tearing her gaze away.

She pivoted, scrambling to find the blade.

The maelstrom crashed around Reeri, centering him back in the fight, his goal now refocused.

He wanted that chance, and he would not let it slip by.

A glint on the west wall caught his eye.

Heavenslight. He moved before he thought.

Jostled in the fray, he fell, knocking loose a rock. It spun into the Bone Blade and sent it twirling over the edge of the new pit. Reeri reached out, the wound on his neck tearing—

And caught the relic as he tumbled into the hole with it.

More crevasse than pit, jagged rocks cut as he crashed through, and his head bounced as he landed, his sight blackening.

But he clutched the relic tight, heart beating swift.

Not for fear of dying, but of dying now, leaving this body with the Bone Blade and having to find one within the cave not cursed by Wessamony’s power.

For if he did not act now, all would be forfeit. His brethren, his soul, Anula.

Sight clearing, he tried to stand and find purchase on the walls, but hands clawed at him, dragging him down and away, clamoring for the relic.

Teeth snatched his elbows, tore at his neck, his arms, his face.

They would end him, those cursed with Wessamony’s power.

He tried to fight them off, but they were too many. Panic rose like bile up his throat.

Until new hands grasped him tight, pulled him up instead of down, and heaved him out of the pit. Reeri gasped as Kama and Calu gently set him on the ground.

“Are you all right?” Calu asked, wiping at the blood masking Reeri’s face.

“The blade.” Kama’s eyes widened. “You found it.”

Reeri white-knuckled the ivory blade—the thing that would sever his binding to Wessamony—sever his brethren’s, too. Mayhap it would be enough, offering a Lord’s soul in exchange for every single Yakka. He had to at least try. He had to know he had done all he could to bring them back to life.

“Where is he?” Reeri growled.

“You cannot take him on now, not when he is at the height of his power,” Calu said. “Even Fate has not stopped him.”

“I have what Fate lacks.” Reeri spat out blood, standing shakily. “A reason to kill him.”

Kama clapped her hands. “Love. Is its fiery passion not beautiful?”

Before he could think to answer, Wessamony snapped again. Reeri jerked in his direction. The Great Sword dove after Fate. It nicked them twice before they swirled back into Makara form and flew up to the ceiling, momentarily leaving Wessamony alone.

Reeri’s chance bloomed.

He gripped the Bone Blade tighter and rushed his tormentor without pause. “Anula! Now!”

Reeri did not need to look to know she would be there, for this was their plan, their fight, their freedom. She would not abandon her people, as surely as she had refused to abandon him.

But Reeri’s movement caught Wessamony’s eye. Twisted horns flamed bright. A sneer pulled his lips. “Was this your grand scheme all along, to be rid of me, like Destiny?”

“It was a good enough scheme to be yours for the First Heavens,” Reeri accused.

Wessamony scoffed. “For the First Heavens, yes. Yet I am not a product of the First Heavens, and neither are you. Have you given any thought as to what may happen when I die? When Destiny met their end, I and the other Divinities lived, for I was not made by Destiny’s hand nor connected to their existence.

Yet all their blessings, all their gifts, all their creations ended.

Would that not mean the same for the Second Heavens?

” A wicked smile crept over his face. “Shall not my creations meet their end when I do, too? The cosmos has always demanded balance, Reeri.”

Dread dripped down Reeri’s spine and chilled his shadow. No. It cannot be true.

“Has your time in the aether taught you nothing? Obey me, or face final death.”

Reeri glanced to his brethren, hard lipped and fuming. Fear etched on every tense muscle. It had become the thing that defined them. The thing that they had become.

Reeri would let it be no longer.

“My time on Earth has taught me one thing.” He raised the Bone Blade. “You are not the Lord of the Second Heavens, but the Lord of Lies.”

Wessamony boomed a laugh. “Then why hesitate, Blood Yakka? If I am lying, then you shall be free of me—free to live a life you always dreamed of: a human life.”

Reeri paused. It was not that he desired to be human; he desired communion. To be with his family. To be with the ones he loved. To be loved in return.

“You hesitate because you worry I speak true. You fear losing the chance to live. You fear never tasting your dream.” Wessamony’s voice grew cold. “As well you should. I lie not, Reeri. Yet hand me the relic and I shall allow you to atone. I shall give you one more chance to live again.”

Reeri’s heart beat swiftly. He glanced at his Yakkas and Anula closing the distance. He could not be the death of his brethren. And he could not leave her. There was so much he wanted her to know, so much to say.

Yet.

He could not allow Wessamony to destroy the cosmos or wreak havoc on any more lives.

“Do it,” Calu shouted.

“We may all meet final death.” Reeri said, the words thick and heavy.

“It is better than being tortured for eternity,” Sohon said.

“We shall all be free,” Kama sang. “Together, each and every one of us.”

The words rippled through his shadow. All he desired, he had this entire time. And he always would.

They knew not what final death meant, whether it be nonexistence or transcendence outside of the Heavens. The cosmos had never said. But whatever it was, mayhap it was the same for humans and one day, when she passed, Anula would be there, too.

“Do you wish to take them all to their graves?” Wessamony growled. “This, too, shall be entirely your fault.”

“My only fault,” Reeri shouted, “was ever listening to you.”

Reeri gripped the Bone Blade and lunged.