Page 18 of No Greater Sorrow (Our Lady of Fire #2)

As she walked alongside Garm to the field where the Avisai grazed, Aleja ran through the most likely scenarios for the Trial in her head. If the previous one required her and Violet to betray each other, then perhaps the last would force them to cooperate despite the anger simmering between them.

But Nicolas looked as though he could barely stand on his own as she approached the field. He leaned against one of the great black dragons, using the shadowy reins to keep himself upright. The rich olive tone of his skin had been bleached away. That streak of gray in his hair growing from his left temple was more prominent than ever.

“Nic,” she gasped, rushing to his side. “You can’t come with me. How can you possibly fly like this?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. At least, his voice was still firm.

“Will you?” Aleja snarled. She wasn’t mad at him anymore. She was just fucking terrified. “What if…” She thought desperately. “I’ll seduce someone. I’ll make them fall in love with me, and they can give me some metaphorical heart. Or I’ll rip the real one out of them if I have to.”

Nicolas’s smile was soft, genuine. It made Aleja feel like she was being cleaved down the middle, and no number of stitches would ever be able to put her back together again.

“What? Do you doubt my abilities?” she asked.

“Of course not. But the bargain said the next person to fall in love with you. That was me.”

“You already loved me. There. That’s the loophole. We can tell the Second to take his curse off. It doesn’t count toward the bargain.”

“I fell in love with you again. The person you became. The person you are now.”

“Dammit, Nic, I’m trying here.”

“So am I.”

He leaned on the Avisai so he could cross his arms. The great dragon huffed but did not move away. Its tail swept across the grass, and a swarm of tiny black insects shot into the air.

“Aleja,” Nicolas finally said, meeting her eyes. “Whatever happens next, I’m glad I got the chance to know you again. That I got to fall in love with you twice. If I die soon, it will have been worth it just for the chance to see you again.”

“Stop it. We’re not doing any fucking goodbyes , do you understand? You promised to fix it, and you will. You’ve kept every promise to me so far, so I don’t see why you should start breaking them now. Come on. The Second is waiting.”

“I’m sorry about Violet. You couldn’t have known,” Nicolas said, offering Aleja a hand as she crawled her way up the Avisai’s saddle.

“I don’t want to talk about her now. You need to nominate someone to take her place as the Dark Saint of Pride as soon as possible.”

“It might fall to you, Aleja. Promise me you’ll become the Knowing One. You’re both kind and cynical, insightful, creative—you’d do well in the role.”

“What the hell did I just tell you?” she snapped, swiveling in her seat to face Nicolas as he climbed in behind her. “We’re not saying our goodbyes, not now. You can’t just make a bargain with me and bring me here and make me fall in love with you just to die , so you’re not going to. As your High General, I command it, do you understand?”

“Understood,” Nicolas said. His hand brushed her cheek, then the swell of her lower lip, and fell away.

“I’m sorry.” Aleja’s face softened. “I love you. As if it wasn’t already obvious.”

“I like hearing it all the same. Tell me again?”

“I love you.”

“And I love you, Aleja. I have loved you since the moment I first saw you wading in the river of our nameless kingdom by the sea. My love for you will last until the stars burn out and the universe turns black. Then, we will wait in silence for all of creation to be born again. And when it is, I will find you, and I will love you then too.”

She leaned back, careful not to put too much pressure on his chest, then tilted her head to kiss the side of his jaw. The faint hint of stubble spoke of the chaos of the past few days. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

A rush of air from the Avisai’s wings drowned out anything else Aleja could have said, but it didn’t matter. She’d expressed all that she wanted to.

Garm’s body grew smaller and smaller as they rose in the clouds. Then, he and the Avisai raced toward the Second’s cave, where destiny awaited them.

* * *

The sword at her hip hung awkwardly. She hated the way it swung against her thigh, making her feel lopsided, but at least it was better than nothing. The sickle had never seemed like it was hers , but she’d become accustomed to it all the same.

Still, she had Garm, who shed his Doberman body as they entered the chamber and towered over her—a creature of pure darkness, aside from the occasional glint of his eyes. And she still had a fig and a little box containing the bones of her former self, whatever that was worth.

KNOWING ONE , the Second said, halfway between a greeting and a purr. Aleja did not like how satisfied the Second sounded to have Nicolas standing here in Violet’s place. WHERE IS OUR FUTURE LADY OF PRIDE? I THOUGHT YOU’D BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE YOU COULD TRUST.

Aleja wanted to snap back that it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Violet’s, but Garm nudged her shoulder. She did the same to Nicolas when he opened his mouth to reply. Don’t give him any more reason to be angry with you , she pleaded silently, hoping he would understand through the bond that ran between them.

The Second remained silent for a beat, as if he expected them to plead for mercy. Aleja realized that they were far beyond that. At that moment, she could sympathize with every decision Nicolas made that went against the Second’s rules. With every time Nicolas found a loophole to get his way.

The Second promoted knowledge and free will, but when his rule was threatened, he had no problem punishing those who sought just that. Her mind drifted back to one of her first conversations with Nicolas when he’d explained the first war that split the Astraelis and the Otherlanders into two factions.

“But what about when the powers are just? When they’re good?”

“We’ve yet to see that last for long.”

THE LAST TRIAL MUST BE COMPLETED WITH A PARTNER. VIOLET WOULD HAVE BEEN YOURS, ALEJA. I HAVE ADJUSTED THE RULES. NICOLAS, SELECT A WEAPON NOW.

Nicolas’s expression was distant, as if he was looking into the depths of murky water, trying hard to see the bottom. Aleja had to stop herself pleading with him to just pick something. They had no idea what was waiting for them beyond those doors.

“I already have my sword,” he finally said.

IF THAT IS YOUR WISH, PROCEED. THE FINAL TRIAL WAITS BEYOND THAT DOOR.

Nausea swept over her as the circular stone rolled to one side, opening a passage. Garm walked ahead of them. “What do you think it’s going to be?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” Nicolas said grimly. “In my final Trial, I had to defeat a small army on my own. War was on the horizon—the Second wanted to know that I would be capable on the battlefield. Something tells me we’re not going to get off so easy.”

Although the passage felt familiar, she had no idea what to expect beyond the the archway leading outside. It was silent, aside from the fading sound of dripping water coming from the Second’s chamber.

Squinting, she took her final step out of the passage. It opened into a landscape surrounded by tree-covered hills, still vibrantly green despite the night sky overhead. This was the world Aleja had stepped into for her first Trial. The world she and Nicolas had known before either of them lit the black candle. Tall standing stones ringed the small field—or perhaps they were columns, once. A touch of sea salt filled the air, gritty when she breathed in with her mouth open.

She looked at Nicolas. He watched the low, quick-moving clouds. Even in profile, she could see the worry in his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked, as Garm left her side to sniff at the grass surrounding the stones.

Nicolas turned to her, taking in a sharp breath that made her do the same. His eyes were the exact color of the storm clouds. In a voice so soft that Aleja barely heard him over the wind, he said, “This is the place we got married.”

“What do you think we have to do?” she asked, unable to keep the note of worry from entering her voice.

The Second had never once spoken to her after she had begun a Trial, but his voice rumbled around them like distant thunder. THIS IS WHERE YOU GAVE HER YOUR HEART FOR THE FIRST TIME, NICOLAS. NOW, FUFILL YOUR BARGAIN AND DO IT AGAIN.

Nicolas didn’t look surprised, even as Aleja and Garm whirled toward him. “What is he talking about? What does he mean, Nic?”

I HAVE ALWAYS GRANTED THE DARK SAINTS THE POWER TO OVERTHROW THEIR KNOWING ONE. NICOLAS HAS brOKEN OUR RULES TIME AND TIME AGAIN. YOU LEARNED HOW TO CUT OUT A HEART IN OUR FIRST TRIAL, ALEJA. IT IS TIME TO PROVE YOU CAN DO IT WHEN IT MATTERS MOST.

“I’m not doing it!” Aleja roared. Garm circled her like a vulture that had spotted a scrap of roadkill. With his jowls pulled back, the only visible feature of his face was his teeth—dozens upon dozens of jagged shards with serrated edges.

IF YOU DO NOT, YOU FAIL THE TRIAL AND NEITHER OF YOU LEAVES THIS PLACE. YOU HAVE THREE MINUTES.

Nicolas didn’t flinch. Not even when she pushed past Garm and grabbed Nicolas’s lapels, dislodging his snake pin. She shook him, but his face remained expressionless, as if he hadn’t heard the Second’s decree.

“Wait!” Aleja gasped. “The note I got in the second Trial—it was a reward. It could be our way of escaping this. ‘The chalice fills, the chalice drains. We are trapped inside, in chains.’ Think, Nic. What does it mean?”

He remained silent.

“Say something. Tell me how we’re going to get out of this. You’re good at finding loopholes, right? Then, find one. You promised me, Nic. You promised to fix this.”

Her entire body felt like it was on fire, but she didn’t think she’d be able to summon her flames if she wanted to. For the first time in ages, her anger was too smothered by sorrow.

“It’s okay. Finish the Trial,” Nicolas murmured, drawing her close. Forgetting to be mindful of his tattoo, she buried her face into her chest as he wrapped his hand around the hair at the base of her neck, pressing her deeper against his chest.

“I’m not doing it,” she said. Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his tunic. Garm paced restlessly behind them, huffing spit to the ground. She could hear his claws churning up the dirt.

“Breathe, Aleja. You can and you will.”

She pushed away from him, ignoring his hiss of pain when her palms touched his chest. “We both die, then. We were prepared to die together when we tried to save the Third, so I don’t really see the difference.”

Nicolas looked over her shoulder, catching Garm’s attention. “You remember that you promised to protect her?”

“Stop this.” Aleja looked at both of them. “No one is hurting anyone. If you won’t think, I will. There must be a way out of this. The Second wouldn’t want the Knowing One to be killed on the eve of an all-out war. Exactly what did he say?”

Nicolas closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them again, he appeared unafraid—a shade of the nonchalant Knowing One whose hand she’d shaken in a witch’s cellar.

“Don’t you dare give up. This isn’t over. What did the Second say? Let’s go over it word for word,” she snarled.

“My dove,” Nicolas said. “Even knowing how it would end, I’d do it all again. Be good when you can and villainous when you cannot. Garm!”

The massive hellhound took a step back, shaking his head like he was flinging off water. “I really don’t want to, boss.”

“You made me a promise, hellhound. Fulfill it.”

Before Aleja registered what was happening, Garm pounced.

A wordless noise erupted from her chest. She rushed forward, but Aleja couldn’t match a hellhound’s speed. Garm’s claws curled into the tattooed skin of Nicolas’s chest. Blood seeped into the thirsty ground, disappearing into black soil that soaked it in as eagerly as rain.

Her fingers tried to get a grip on Garm’s fur, but he shook her off with no effort, using his weight to grind more deeply into Nicolas’s torso. The Knowing One made a choked sound as blood pooled around his mouth.

It was a horrible reversal of their positions when Nicolas and Aleja had found each other again after centuries. This time, he was the one being ripped to shreds by a hellhound and she was the one pleading for the dog to back off. Aleja’s sweat-dampened palms could scarcely pull the sword from its scabbard.

“Garm, please. I don’t want to hurt you,” she sobbed, raising the weapon over her head. But Garm didn’t relent when she brought the heavy blade down on his side. His skin was too thick. The sword only opened a pink wound, not deep enough to bleed.

Aleja lifted the sword again, but Garm leaped from Nicolas’s body and slunk away, whimpering, his tail between his legs.

The sword fell from her hand, landing in the grass with a thud as she rushed to Nicolas’s side. He was still alive, but each exhale came with a spurt of dark blood from his chest. His tunic had been torn apart by Garm’s claws, revealing a mess of skin underneath. The snake tattoo was barely recognizable—a chunk of body in one place, a reptilian eye pierced by a thorn in another.

“I can’t believe you would…”

“Survive this. Return to the others as the Dark Saint of Wrath and help them win the war.” By the end of his last sentence, Nicolas’s breath gurgled like he was drowning in the open air.

“Why would you do this?” Aleja sobbed. She wanted to touch him, but there seemed to be no place where his skin wasn’t torn apart by claws. In the field, Garm gave a pained wail.

YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE LEFT , said the Second.

Nicolas’s eyes paled—the silver of storm clouds fading into the almost translucent color of a winter lake. A cold light. A weak light. And it was growing weaker, even as he pulled his sword forward so that the leather wrapping the hilt brushed against Aleja’s fingers.

THIRTY SECONDS .

“The bargain—” Nic managed.

The words made no sense. All she could manage was a single, “ No .”

Aleja would not cut out his heart, no matter what the Second demanded. She’d had enough of his cruel games. If Garm was allowed to leave this place, he could tell the others what had happened. Perhaps their deaths would plant a new seed of rebellion in the minds of the Otherlanders—against the Second beneath his mountain, who promised them freedom but only as he saw fit.

Nicolas stilled.

The world grew dim.

The hills surrounding Aleja were being swallowed by shadow, bit by bit until all that was left were the ruined pillars. Fire engulfed her body, wrapping her in a mantle of flames. Unsummoned, it had simply come as she watched Nic’s body, waiting for him to take another breath.

“Aleja,” Garm whispered.

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” she said, but her voice was low, scarcely audible over the crackle of her fire.

“Nicolas made me promise to protect you. I had to?—”

“Don’t say another word.”

Aleja was distantly aware she couldn’t breathe—not because she was dying, but because Nicolas didn’t move when she brushed a strand of damp hair away from his forehead and straightened the snake pin on his lapel. It didn’t seem right that the Knowing One’s body seemed so frail. His torso looked like it had been torn into strips, and someone had taken the time to try and smooth it down, only for the wind to whip everything into disarray again.

“Garm, I need you to help me carry him. We need to get him to the healers,” she eventually said.

“They can’t help, Al.”

“You did this, so you’re going to help me,” she snapped.

“He’s dead. And there’s nowhere for us to go.”

She tore her gaze away from Nicolas’s face. Garm was right. Darkness was all around. Nothing except for the pillars remained, lit in shades of red and gold from the fire surrounding Aleja’s body, as if she were a star and they were orbiting around her. She waited for the Second to kill her. For the relief of it. She would never have to feel the grief that strained against her chest, trying to push its way out with the force of a supernova.

But her heart was still beating after Nicolas’s skin grew cold under her fingertips. And it was still beating when a door between the pillars opened, as if the empty space had ripped away to form a passage.

“Go, Garm. Get out of here. If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you,” she whispered.

“Not without you,” he said.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She and Nicolas could lay to rest here, in this dark world that still bore a trace of the field where they’d married. Garm sat back on his haunches. Even in the light of Aleja’s fire, all she could see of him was the reflection of his eyes, made red by the flames.

THE TRIAL IS NOT OVER, LADY OF WRATH. TAKE HIS HEART. GO THROUGH THE DOOR.

“Fuck you,” she said. “What was the point of all of this? To take revenge on a man for disobeying you to save his wife? To punish me for returning here, for taking the Trials so I could defend my friends? You’re no better than the Astraelis, you petty asshole.”

Aleja waited to die in silence. She pushed Garm’s muzzle away when he nudged her shoulder, his body once again in the form of a Doberman with floppy ears. A pink blister appeared on the top of his nose.

Hellhounds , she thought dimly. The product of an unfulfilled bargain.

“I’m not taking the heart,” she said again.

The wind sounded almost like the Second sighing. THE TRIAL IS NOT OVER, ALEJA. GO THROUGH THE DOOR , he said again, with what she could only interpret as a hint of resignation.

An unhinged laugh escaped her. Yes. Hellhounds, trapped in limbo. That had to be right. There was no way the Second would kill his Knowing One in a time of war, not like this. And when she returned to him, it would be as a Dark Saint.

Her flames dimmed as she reasoned with the situation. But when she finally took a step toward the door—the last bit of light left now that her fire had receded—it felt like abandonment.

Garm approached her with his tail tucked between his hind legs. “I had no choice. I made a promise to him that I would always protect you, even if it meant choosing your life over his.”

“Later,” she whispered.

Together, they moved on.

* * *