Page 28 of Son of the Drowned Empire

Chapter Twenty-Seven

D espite Marisol and Cal’s protests, I was determined to leave first thing in the morning. Garrett could move quickly. Too quickly. I couldn’t risk falling behind. I needed to get close enough to track him. Plus…it was time. I was unbound, I was stronger than ever. I couldn’t hide at the inn any longer.

With my room cleared, and my few belongings packed and ready to go, I heard Cal’s knock on the door. They’d already given me a huge breakfast. And coffee strong enough to keep me on edge for days.

I let him and Marisol inside. She’d been in good spirits despite facing akadim in the middle of the night. She was tougher than she looked. But just then, there were tears in her eyes.

Cal placed an arm around her as she tugged on a golden charm around her neck. It was a carving of Auriel. She squeezed it in her fist, and stared up at me, almost adoringly. They were the grandparents I’d never had.

“What’s your plan, Rhyan?” Cal asked.

I shrugged. “Track the akadim. I know he’s headed south. Then, go to Sean and Branwyn.” I’d left out the part that the akadim was Garrett, that he’d been my best friend. That I’d sworn an oath to him. I left out that I had any other reason for traveling to Bamaria.

“Do you know where you’re going to stay?” Marisol asked anxiously.

Cal eyed her, his face grim.

“Wherever I can.” I hadn’t thought that part through. I was going to use my vorakh when possible, but I still needed a place to sleep each night. I would need to enter each establishment with my hood up, find places where they didn’t ask too many questions.

“Rhyan,” Cal said, his voice low. He lifted both eyebrows. “Listen. Some advice? Stick to the brothels.”

My mouth fell open, and I chanced an embarrassed look at Marisol, but she was nodding enthusiastically.

“Um,” I said. “I’m not…” I sighed. “Not really…looking for that?”

Cal laughed. “Oh! Oh ! No. Not for that.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with it,” Marisol said.

“Of course, not,” Cal agreed.

“Right,” I said. “I just, I’m not…um…” I looked back to Cal. “Why brothels?”

“They’re not just for sex. They’re for secrets.” He gave me a pointed look.

For forsworn. For criminals. I should have thought of that myself. I’d found every other seedy place in Thene. But that…that part of me had been asleep for so long, I’d almost forgotten.

“There’s one in Elyria, I can recommend,” Cal said. “Not for sex,” he added quickly, but Marisol didn’t look phased in the least. “Right near the Bamarian border. When you arrive, tell them Cal sent you, tell them ‘purple sun.’ They’ll give you a room. And they’ll keep your secrets—as long as you keep theirs.”

“Purple sun,” I said. “Got it.”

“And if you ever need anything, you need a place to stay, to hide…you come back here, okay?” Marisol said.

“I promise, thank you.” I bit the inside of my cheek and shook my head. “I can never repay you for this.”

Cal grinned. “You did…you’ll understand one day.” He removed his own Auriel pendant, letting the chain it was hooked on slide through his fingers and rest against his tunic.

I reached forward, giving them both hugs. But before I could say goodbye, Marisol handed me a small pastry box.

“What’s this?” I asked, untying the golden ribbon.

“Wanted you to have something sweet for the road. They’re still baking downstairs for lunch and dinner, so none of our desserts are ready yet. But I couldn’t let you go without something.” Marisol said. “It’s from a local bakery.”

I flipped open the lid.

It was lemon cake.

I bit my lip to keep it from shaking, and hugged them both again.

“You like it?” Cal asked.

“It’s my favorite,” I said.

They walked me out the door, my hood up, and I headed out of the city, to the park, and into the woods. And when I was deep enough, away from civilization, from any eyes… I jumped.

Two months passed since I’d begun hunting Garrett. My back burned every day. It was nearly unbearable—like it had been when I’d first been bound. The only upside was that the hotter it burned, the closer I was. My blood oath was my compass, helping me track his progress south, letting me know whenever I caught his trail.

In every town, in every village he came to, I stayed in the shadows, watching, waiting. I listened for stories and gossip. For any hints of where akadim had been spotted. If anyone had been reported missing, if any bodies had been found. Every time the bells rang to announce the hour, I winced, preparing to hear a different kind of sound—the warning bells. But they never came. Garrett was like a ghost. Always just out of my reach.

I was tempted to camp outside—to avoid being seen and avoid interacting with anyone. Leaving Cretanya I was reminded of the danger I faced. And until I went to Bamaria—until Arkasva Batavia offered me legal and political protection, I still had to worry about my father’s men.

I trusted Cal and Marisol with my life after my stay. But I would never expect, nor want them to be harmed in exchange for information about me. If someone eventually came looking, and they reached the right corners of Lumeria, if the mage in Cretanya, or the tattoo artist were ever approached, ever offered enough money… I’d be given up. I could be given up at any moment.

This left me living rougher in some ways than I had been when I lived in the caves, when I’d been completely isolated, only fighting off random gangs of forsworn, or beating back akadim.

But after a few nights, I’d followed Cal and Marisol’s advice, and brothels became my main place of refuge. They asked less questions, and they expected shorter stays. Which was good—because Garrett was on the move.

Every time I swore I found him, every time I uncovered a nest, uncovered a gathering spot for akadim, or a place to store their treasures… or their victims… the activity would suddenly die down. Reports of akadim would stop.

Garrett knew I was after him. I couldn’t decide if he was trying to lure me toward him, or not. Why tie the banners together? Akadim kept trophies, but why those? And why had he been willing to leave them behind?

Was there some small part of Garrett’s soul that clung to his body? That wanted me to find him? Wanted me to fulfill my oath? Or had the monster simply come out to play, knowing that targeting me would torture me further—torture me in a way that only a soulless beast could delight in?

The former kept me going. I remembered hearing Garrett’s voice in my head when I escaped Glemaria.

Stop the threat.

I tried to imagine if the roles were reversed. The mere thought sickened me. The idea of harming people. Killing. Or…worse. Dying by akadim wasn’t the most horrific fate in the world. I’d seen enough evidence in the nests to know this truth. Naked bodies, some used, some torn to pieces haunted my nightmares. And the closer I got to Bamaria, the more I found.

Garrett would have wanted nothing to do with this life—would have been horrified with the harm he was causing.

So, I kept pushing forward, pushing past my doubts, and exhaustion. I had to find Garrett. For his sake. For my friends, for everyone who loved him.

And I had to make sure he never stepped foot in Bamaria.

Two weeks earlier, I’d arrived at the brothel that Cal and Marisol had told me about. It had been my favorite so far.

The brothel was made up of several tiny buildings—each room had its own hut. It offered privacy—privacy intended for a very different kind of purpose—but one I needed all the same. It kept me from being seen, being noticed. And it kept my identity hidden when Imperator Kormac and his warlord, the Bastardmaker, stopped by. Despite the privacy provisions in place, I was more than aware of their whereabouts, and just how long they stayed. And unfortunately, I was aware of how many companions they’d requested.

We were approaching Auriel’s Feast Day again. The day. The anniversary. Jules’s arrest. Her birthday.

I tried not to think about it. To think about her. Not when my focus was on Garrett. Not when I had a mission that I absolutely had to complete.

Imperator Kormac and his men had finally abandoned the brothel. I’d been keeping to my room more often, only leaving at night under my cloak. The Imperator knew me, even with the scar, he’d recognize my face.

He wouldn’t turn me over to my father. I suspected I provided too much leverage for that. Someone like him would never miss the opportunity to use me. Horribly. And if I was indebted to him, or under his sole control…I wouldn’t be able to help Lyriana. Wouldn’t be able to complete my mission. I hadn’t come this far, or come this close to finding my freedom, just to be bound to another heartless monster. Another Imperator.

Despite being nowhere near the Korterian border and the Imperator gone, I still saw the wolves, saw flashes of the silver armor of Ka Kormac, every day. They frequented the brothel far more than the soturi of Ka Batavia or Ka Elys. I remembered when I'd last been here, it had been Ka Kormac's soturi that greeted us. Something I'd never seen in any other country. It was one thing to have an alliance, to share soturi when protection was needed. But watching the way they marched towards the border after partaking at the brothel, it felt like an invasion.

After dinner, just before sundown, I stepped out of my hut, making my weekly trip to the main building for payment. They wouldn’t accept advance stays longer, so this was my new tradition. I was praying it’d be the last time. That’d I’d finally find Garrett. Finally end this.

The front desk was empty, so I headed for the dining hall. The owner, as far as I could tell, lived there with everyone else who worked for her. Courtesans, maids, and cooks. This was also the building where they made all of their meals. And despite the secretive nature of the place, I still preferred eating alone in my room. I wasn’t too fond of the company who frequented the hall—too many soturi of Ka Kormac.

I pulled open the door and stepped inside, annoyed I’d have to see more people. But it was surprisingly empty that night of visitors, at least the Ka Kormac kind.

And I didn’t recognize any of the courtesans either. It was mostly women with typical Elyrian features—the trademark dark curly hair and tanned skin.

Quietly, I approached the table where the brothel’s owner sat. I couldn’t call out to her. Even after weeks I didn’t know her name. No names were ever used here—although I was more than positive that she knew mine.

“I believe one lives,” came a hushed whisper.

“You’re farther than Lethea,” said another.

“I am not. I have shown my evidence.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” I said, with a cough.

“Shut your mouth,” hissed the second voice. She pushed her hand over the other woman’s.

The owner rushed to stand. “You ate in your room.” Her voice was accusatory, and I felt everyone’s eyes on me.

I nodded. “Just wanted to pay for another week.”

Then I realized, no one was eating. I’d walked in on some clandestine meeting. A meeting of regular Elyrian women. I could only imagine they’d met here because they assumed no one they deemed reputable would see them.

One mage carefully folded a flag into her lap, her dark eyes on me, glaring. Daring me to speak. I could almost feel the moment her gaze ran across my scar. The moment her face said, I know who you are. And if we are betrayed, so are you.

I nodded. The flag was gone. But it had shown me what secret was being kept deep inside the brothel.

The flag had been embroidered with an old sigil–one that had been banished by the Empire. A sigil that represented a Ka no living person was allowed to hold allegiance to. One that no living person could claim ancestry from. Because every last member of Ka Azria had been murdered by the Emperor. Murdered for hiding vorakh.

The purple Valalumir over a golden sun wouldn’t be seen anywhere else.

Except in secret meetings in a brothel on the Elyrian border to Bamaria.

‘Purple sun’ had been the code word for me to gain their trust.

There was a secret rebellion happening in Elyria.

The brothel’s owner played with a golden ashvan charm around her neck–a symbol of Ka Elys, of the ruling Ka she was supposed to be loyal to. She jerked her chin toward the door, walking briskly and I followed her back out to the front desk.

I made my payment, and she seemed to soften. I couldn’t tell if she liked having me—liked knowing I was a guaranteed source of income. Or if she was annoyed that I never paid for additional services.

I tried not to think about it. I just knew that Cal and Marisol had told me the right thing to say. And that as long as I kept their secret, they would keep mine.

Once the sun set, I sheathed my blades. And when the path was clear, I snuck out, moving in the shadows past the huts, moving as the sounds of pleasure—sounds that had been lost to me for ages, grew in increasing volume. I took a deep breath, leaving behind the safety of the brothel, their torches and light, and I moved into the woods.

Within an hour, I found a nest.

Empty of akadim. But it contained a trove of random objects. A ripped soturion cloak. A broken sword sheath but no sword. And a trail of blood. One that led to a body. A young soturion. He’d been raped. Mutilated. A black mark over his heart.

Forsaken. He’d be akadim the following night.

I said a prayer and chopped off his head.

My back was on fire, but there was no sign of Garrett, except for one message.

It had been painted onto the wall of the cave. In blood.

You can’t stop the threat.

I hunted until the day broke, then I returned to my room, my eyes shutting as the sun rose.

I repeated the process the following night, and the next night after. I’d started traveling lightly around Elyria. Careful not to jump too far. Whatever distance I crossed would equal how exhausted I was when I arrived. I needed to move quickly, to cover as much ground as possible. But I couldn't lose my strength. Couldn’t risk being too tired when I faced Garrett. When my back burned, when the pain of the scar increased, I knew I was close. And when the pain lessened, I redirected myself.

And then, exactly one week until Auriel’s Feast Day, I was on patrol. It was early in the night. The sun had just set, but the heat clung to the air. And my back was on fire. I was moving south, moving toward Bamaria.

Something felt different. Odd. With every step I took, my stomach churned, the pain so bad I was nauseated.

Bamarian sun trees surrounded me with their familiar shape. The shape of the leaf I’d held in my hand for weeks traveling across the Empire. The leaf I’d kept hidden for a year, until I burned it.

That felt like a lifetime ago.

The forest around me grew quiet. No birds. No seraphim flying overhead. I stopped moving, stopped breathing. And I waited. But there was nothing. I continued on, making tiny jumps to avoid the sound of my footsteps, my stomach tugging, my boots hitting the soft forest ground, again and again. Every time I traveled, my eyes widened, searching the area, my breath held as I listened.

The bells rang. The hour was called. Almost immediately dozens of blue lights lit up the sky. Ashvan on patrol.

I was so close to Bamaria. To her.

I stared, my heart fluttering. We’d watched ashvan that night together, hidden in the trees. I’d forgotten that detail. Forgotten how beautiful they were. How sure they were of their steps. Knowing that every time they needed support—the magic appeared. A blue light formed and allowed these animals without wings to take to the sky and fly.

For a moment, the forest faded away. I was back in time.

And then a branch cracked behind me. I shifted my gaze, my heart pounding. Another cracked. Louder. But this one sounded like it was in front of me.

I tensed. Two akadim?

We were right at the border… I could jump. I could jump and alert the first soturion I found of the danger.

But as I remained still, my hood pulled close, my body camouflaged and hardly visible in the night, I heard nothing else behind me. Only in front. The akadim was on the border.

Sweat was pouring down my forehead as I sucked in a breath and took a step. The blue lights still made the sky glow, casting shadows around me. The bells continued to ring. But they would stop at any moment. The lights would fade. I’d return to darkness and have seconds to determine what threat I was facing.

“Rhyan,” the akadim sang. The same voice I’d heard before, deep, and gravelly. Monstrous. Taunting.

Garrett’s voice. But not.

My stomach churned. I didn’t answer. If he knew I was here, then he knew where I was.

“Assessing the threat?” he teased. “Trying to stop it?”

I barely dared to breathe. The bells stopped ringing. The lights went out, and my eyes readjusted to the darkness.

“Figure out how many?” Garrett asked. But now his voice was behind me.

Had that been him before? Was he moving?

“Don’t worry.” His voice was now far away. He was jumping, trying to provoke me by traveling…refusing to give me my bearings. “I wouldn’t come with more. Too easy. You’re weak. You never killed one.”

My fingers tensed, and I imagined the feeling of my swords becoming part of my arms, natural extensions of my strength.

Stop the threat.

Become the weapon.

“Couldn’t do it,” he said. “Every single time. Never you. It was me. I’m the strong one.”

“You died,” I said, trying not to feel, trying to squash the emotion that rose up like bile in my throat at those words.

“Killed two. Killed the one that killed me. You couldn’t do it. Couldn’t help. Couldn’t save your friend. All those promises, oaths sworn,” he crooned. His voice was even more monstrous as he tried to feign sympathy. “You did nothing. Cried. Snapped my neck.”

“I didn’t know akadim spoke in full sentences.”

“Old ones don’t. We’re improved. Can’t say the same for you.”

“It’s not going to work. This isn’t you,” I seethed. I knew akadim kept their memories… but that didn’t mean this was Garrett now. Garrett would have never said anything like that to me. Garrett was my best friend. He had wanted to live, and he had loved so deeply. He was a hero who’d die to protect anyone in trouble. He loved his friends. He loved Aiden. He loved his family. He wasn’t this. He was nothing like this.

A monster without a soul. A demon who’d left a trail of death in his wake.

“That’s where you're wrong.” His voice was behind me again.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to catch my breath. He could come at me from any direction at any moment. Catch me unawares.

But he was also going to tire himself out like this. Akadim had energy stores, too. If I could keep him talking, keep him thinking he was getting to me, he might wear himself out. But he was making small jumps…the equivalent of circling around me. I didn’t know when he’d last eaten… Gods… I couldn’t think about that. Garrett feeding. Garrett killing. Garrett…raping. No…no. I just needed to be patient, even if it took all night.

“How am I wrong?” I jumped, vanishing and reappearing before a larger sun tree. I pushed my back against it, so at least he couldn’t reach me from behind.

“Because this is me. I’m not different. Only stronger.” He sounded closer.

My scar heated, and my heart pounded. “I doubt it.”

“Oooh,” he crooned, suddenly right behind me. “Finally had your binds removed? I was wondering when you’d travel again.”

I tried to keep my breath even as I vanished. My stomach hooked and my boots touched down a few feet away. The dizzying sensation lasted barely a second. “Is that really what you were wondering?” I asked.

“Now you’re playing. Good.”

“Depends,” I said. “What’s the game?”

“No game. Just me killing you.”

My stomach twisted. “I don’t believe you. You could have killed me by now. Instead, you’re jumping around like a child.”

“Rhyan, that’s not going to work. Don’t think you can use your father’s insults for you, on me.”

More sweat ran down my neck. Garrett knew? He knew the things he’d said to me. My stomach twisted.

“Really,” I said. “You say you don’t want to play games, but that’s all you’re doing. Maybe you’re afraid of me.”

Garrett laughed. The sound was demonic and cruel. “You’re right where I wanted you,” he snarled. “You fell right into the trap.”

“What do you mean where you wanted me?” I’d been tracking him for some time and he knew it… so if he’d chosen to reveal himself now…there was a reason. But why here? Why Bamaria? Why had he come here at all? If he wanted to hurt me, really torture me, why not lead me back north? Why not lead me to the place that he knew mattered? Why hadn’t he gone where the people I’d sworn to protect lived? He could have gone after Kenna. Aiden. Dario. It made no sense. He had no connection to the South.

“I’ve been leading you. Here.”

“To Bamaria?” I shook my head. “For what reason? What does it mean to you?”

Garrett reappeared in front of me, and I balked, barely stopping myself from pissing right on the spot. His lips curled, and his fangs were glistening. Up close he was so much taller than I’d remembered. I took in his features, his eyes. There was nothing left of my friend. Only a monster who’d pirated his memories.

“It’s not what it means to me,” he teased. “It’s what it means to you.”

Sean. Lyriana. Love. Hope. But Garrett didn’t know any of that. I never spoke of what happened here. Never once discussed Bamaria. Never once told them of my friendship with Jules, or where my heart had lived the last three years. Sean had all but moved to Bamaria when Garrett and I became friends. As far as he knew, I was still falling in love with Kenna.

“What does it mean to me?” I asked.

He struck out and I ducked, barely avoiding a slash from his claws. With a growl, Garrett raised his arm, his hands clapping. “You know akadim can hear twenty times that of a man? I could hear you. Even with the windows closed.”

I paled.

“Hear your blubbering, your cries in Cretanya. I heard everything. How pathetic you are. How weak. You think you can fix me, Sean? ” he cried, his voice now a cruel impersonation of mine, of my accent. “ You think you can save me? Well, you can’t! You can’t fucking fix me .” He laughed. “I guess you were right. Sean can’t save you.” He looked to the left, and the right, his movements exaggerated. “He’s not here.”

I thrust my sword forward, but as expected, he dodged. The movement was so eerily how he moved in habibellums.

“You spent months holed up in a cave. Pathetic. Hiding. Wasting your life away. Crying. Starving.” He lunged forward, and I jumped, my stomach tugging. I reappeared behind him. “Because you thought you deserved it. Because you knew that was all you were worth.”

My nostrils flared.

Garrett was gone the next second. Then, a claw stabbed my head from behind. I jumped, my body vanishing. I landed in a clearing several feet away.

Myself to Moriel. This was like a twisted game of hide and seek. I needed to end this—or he’d travel further away at some point. Into Bamaria. He could reach Cresthaven. Sean. Or Lyr. I’d be too late.

“Are you just going to hide from me? Wait for Sean to come save you?”

“He’s not coming to save me,” I said, widening my stance.

“You’re right, you’ll be dead by then. Unless you want to join me. We could hunt, like we used to.”

“We never hunted,” I snarled. “We protected. And I didn’t think akadim had friends.”

“It’s more organized than you know. Not like it used to be.”

“Like searching for akadim with vorakh?”

“Part of it,” he growled.

“Why Bamaria,” I asked again. He could have destroyed me in Cretanya. Forced me to become like him. There was something else, something more. And I needed answers. “Why here?”

Garrett stalked toward me, the golden glint of the sun leaves lighting his eyes on fire.

“There’s something of importance. Long suppressed. Some great power. The master wants it. Wants to unleash it.”

The master?

You’ve made a huge mistake. That girl has the potential to unleash more power and destruction than anyone in the Empire ever has. You will rue the day we did not control it.

My father’s words, spoken here, three years ago, came back to me.

My father had let Garrett turn. Let Garrett go. Let the akadim in.

Fuck. Fuck! This was about Lyriana. This was always about Lyriana.

“Did my father send you?” I seethed.

Garrett laughed. “A mere Imperator?”

“The Afeya?” I asked. “Mercurial?”

Garrett laughed even harder. “We are more powerful than them.”

“I doubt it.”

“Why? You think you’re going to kill me now? I thought you wanted to play? Catch up? Ask me a million questions. Questions you’ll never get answers to. Because you’ll be dead.”

“Or you will,” I shouted.

And then he was on me, claws wrapping around my waist, lifting me into the air.

I vanished, reappearing behind him. And I slashed. My blade barely cut through his back.

He whirled around to face me as I rushed backward.

“Interesting spot to cut me,” he growled. “Right where your blood oath is. Right where you’ll be reminded for the rest of your life that you failed.”

“I didn’t fail,” I said, my eyes burning. “I’m just not finished yet.” My back was on fire, no longer directing me, but warning me that as long as Garrett walked, my oath remained unfulfilled.

“Think so? Think you can defeat me? You’ve already failed three times.”

I lunged, my blade and dagger striking. I slashed his stomach. His blood fell. But not enough. The cut needed to be deeper.

He growled, and grabbed me again, his jaw snapping, nearly biting my nose. This time his claws pierced below my armor, into my skin. I couldn’t travel. Couldn’t escape. Not without risking greater injury.

And with a roar, Garrett’s breath, hot and putrid, blasted across my face. He punched me and my head fell back, as his claws dug in. I heard the drip of my blood falling onto the forest floor.

The metallic sound of a clasp unbuckling rang in my ear, the snap of it unlatching, my armor coming off. It dropped to the ground.

My vision was blurring. I couldn’t see straight. Couldn’t think. Panic was fluttering in my stomach and my back only continued to scald me—reminding me of my failure. Of how I let Garrett down. And my mother. Bowen. Dario. Aiden. Kenna.

Sean.

Lyriana…

My eyes snapped open. Garrett ripped my tunic down its center. The warm air of the summer night hit my skin just as he threw me to the ground. I rolled onto my knees. Garrett laughed.

“A gryphon! And a torn rope!” He laughed even harder. “You think that’s what you are? You think you’re as strong as a gryphon? A gryphon who tore the rope, a gryphon who broke free?”

“I know I am,” I said, my face heating.

This wasn’t Garrett. This wasn’t Garrett.

I rose to my feet, readjusting my hold on the hilts of my weapons, trying to recenter. To ground myself. Stop the threat. Become the weapon. Follow the chain of command.

But there was no command. It was just me.

I was the chain.

“You are no gryphon. You’re a weakling who hid in the caves. Who needed their uncle to carry them while they cried like a baby. A weakling who killed your best friend, and your mother.”

I rushed at him. And this time, both blades sank into his stomach. It still wasn’t enough. I needed to aim for his heart—or cut off his head.

I traveled, jumping back until my boots hit a tree at the edge of the clearing. I used it to push off, and I ran, leaping into the air.

In my mind, I saw Garrett up close—right where I wanted to be. I saw a rope. Saw myself tearing it. My stomach tugged, and I landed on his chest, my legs wrapped around him, my dagger plunging. But he shifted and I missed the heart.

He roared in pain, and for a second, my chest tightened. I felt sorry for him. Sorry, he was suffering. Sorry once again, I was in this position and sorry that he was, too—even if he wasn’t really here. Because it wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

A slash to my bare back, and I fell hard. The air knocked from my lungs as I met the ground.

Garrett laughed. Fucking bastard. He was using my sympathy against me. Using the love I still had for my friend, to throw me off.

“I knew you couldn’t do it.” He vanished. The air whooshed from my lungs as his body crushed mine. He pressed me into the ground, his claw stroking my face, the sharp edge running against my scar.

“You’re not the gryphon. You’re this. Forsworn. Weak. Oath-breaker.” His hand wrapped around my neck, and suddenly we were standing, my feet dangling in the air as he choked me. “And soon…dead.”

Air was leaving me quickly. But I still had my sword in my hand. If I could just get my other hand around the hilt… I kicked, trying to move my body into position.

But I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t…

I grabbed the hilt of my sword.

Garrett’s eyes were on my chest. I could feel the heat there now. My stomach churned violently; a burning sensation danced over my heart. He was going to eat my soul. He was going to turn me forsaken.

But I was faster.

I was out of breath, but I still screamed, lifting my arms, my muscles burning as I used everything I had inside of me. I swung up. The blade sliced through his wrist, severing it in half. He let go of me, and the moment my feet hit the floor, I jumped.

My stomach tugged. I swung again, harder. The rest of his hand fell off.

He stumbled back, and then he lunged, his remaining hand scratching down my chest, pushing me onto my back. “Now die,” he growled.

The bells began to ring. The warning bells of Bamaria. Someone knew. Someone had seen us, seen the threat.

It was enough of a distraction for me to regrip my sword.

Garrett looked around. “Still…no one is coming to save you.”

I struck him, the blade sinking right into his heart. My muscles burned as I pushed and pushed with a grunt. His red eyes widened. And then he fell back, pulling me with him, my sword still lodged in his chest.

Tears welled up in my eyes, as I scrambled to my knees and pulled the blade out, his body twitching. One more hit, one more strike.

“Stop the threat ,” I whispered.

And then I did what I’d been trying to do for months. Not just stop a threat, or keep an oath.

I was going to do what I should have done ages ago.

I was going to save myself.

I plunged my sword through his heart, feeling the sickening sensation of it piercing through his body, pushing past muscle as blood spilled onto the forest floor.

His eyes closed. His body stilled. It was over. My oath was fulfilled.

Lyriana, and the rest of Bamaria were safe. For now.

A strangled sob came from my mouth as I stumbled backward, falling to my knees.

A light flashed above the trees, one I thought I’d seen before…before I’d fallen from the gryphon at the Alissedari. A rustling came from the bushes behind me. And a soturion ran, out of breath, into the clearing.

Dark shadows swept toward me, an aura with a force so strong, so deadly in feeling, it nearly blew me back.

And then a golden glimmer from the sun tree hit his cloak.

Red.

“You killed the akadim,” said a deep voice.

I was at a loss for words. It wasn’t just an akadim. It was all that remained of my friend. Still, I nodded in response, and took the hand extended to me, accepting help from the man bringing me to my feet.

And then, I met the eyes of the Ready.