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Chapter Twenty-Nine

TANYL

W e created the curse that spawned the Scarrok.

Silas’s words rocked the world onto its side. I knew I gripped Sylvie’s fingers too tightly, but she didn’t protest.

The Grand Master waited, his features almost serene, nothing in his demeanor indicating he’d just confessed to killing tens of thousands of elves. Worse, he’d denied them peace after death, condemning the victims and their families to endure unending torment.

Briar stood woodenly on Sylvie’s other side. His face was ashen as he stared at the man he’d served since he was five years old. Briar had never said it, but Silas was probably more of a father to him than Roger of Mudwall. And now Briar knew Silas had used him, raising him up and then discarding him like someone might throw away a broken toy.

“Why?” Briar croaked, the word loaded with a lifetime of betrayal. “Why would you do something so horrific?”

Silas sighed. “Because we belong nowhere, Briar. Surely, you remember how your stepmother treated you, just as you recall the pain of knowing you’ll die while the elves live forever.” Silas rested his other hand on the godswell. “Not fully human, not wholly elven. The Rivven are caught between two worlds, and outcasts from both.”

“So you created monsters,” I said. “Abominations.”

“The Rivven needed a purpose,” Silas said. “When the elves first created the Covenant, the human kings hunted halflings. The first Grand Master saw an opportunity to ensure our survival.”

The water in the godswell swirled, a blue glow filling the basin. Images of Rivven appeared, their arms raised as they stood over a shriveled corpse. Their lips moved, and lightning shot from their hands. The corpse jerked.

My throat went dry. Sylvie tightened her grip on my hand. The vision in the water cleared, and Silas continued.

“We created the Scarrok, and in doing so, we created a place for ourselves in the world. With our ability to cross the Covenant unharmed and with our magic intact, we were useful. The Scarrok made us essential, allowing us to escort humans across the rivers. When called upon, we served the elven kings.”

I’d heard enough. “You terrorized two realms,” I said, hearing the anger in my voice. “You doomed innocent people to become monsters.”

“Some monsters serve a purpose, Your Grace. People need an enemy. They won’t notice you’re a monster when you give them something more monstrous to fear.” Silas’s eyes glinted. “Convince them you can keep the monsters at bay, and they’ll support you without question. Because just like monsters, people don’t like to think too hard about things they don’t understand. They much prefer believing they already have the answers.”

Briar stared at the godswell, the water reflected in his eyes. When he looked at Silas, the pain on his face was a second sword thrust in my heart. “Was everything a lie?” he asked.

Silas’s face softened, and for a moment, he appeared genuinely sympathetic. “I know this is difficult to accept. But soon, you won’t have to think about it.”

My body went icy. Sylvie tensed. She released my hand, and I knew she prepared for a fight. Even with danger swirling thick around us, pride filled me. She’d been right about everything. She was a weapon. I’d been a fool not to see it.

Silas spread his hands, the long sleeves of his white robe like wings. “As I said, curses don’t last forever. They break down eventually. But like the rivers, they can be replenished.” He looked at Sylvie. “You fulfilled part of the prophecy, knocking Tanyl from the throne and killing the Scarrok. But we need them to rise again.”

My stomach clenched. My fingers inched for a sword, but I didn’t fucking have one. And one of the Rivven had carried Skycleaver from the temple. I had to assume more Rivven waited in the shadows, ready to rush forward the moment Silas gave the order.

He dipped his fingers in the godswell. “Rivven knowledge runs deep. We raised the Scarrok once. We can do it again.”

“And what does that entail?” I asked. Arrogant fucks loved the sound of their own plans—and I needed him talking.

“Your queen fulfilled part of the prophecy,” Silas said. “She ended your father’s feckless dynasty, and she ended the Scarrok before they could become an unmanageable menace. In recent years, they’ve become more organized. Magic warped the curse. The monsters needed to be replaced.” He smiled at Sylvie. “You have a chance to redeem yourself, child. A new rite requires royal blood. You’ll supply it.”

I pushed Sylvie behind me. “You won’t touch her.”

Silas ignored me, his eyes on Sylvie. “You would have made a fine sestra. Now, you can start the Scarrok anew.”

My stomach dropped. He wasn’t just going to kill her. He was going to twist Sylvie into a monster, condemning her to the same fate as her mother—a mindless creature incapable of dying.

Briar spoke, his voice steadier than before. “You’re the monster, Silas. If the Rivven only exist because of the Scarrok, maybe we shouldn’t exist at all.”

Hands braced on the edge of the basin, Silas offered Briar a mocking smile. “I’m sure that would suit you, Briar. That way, you wouldn’t have to keep the vows you were so eager to break.”

Briar’s nostrils flared. Defiance shone in his eyes.

Don’t, I urged in my mind. Don’t lose control.

Briar lunged across the godswell, his roar vibrating the air. At the same moment, Silas plunged his hand into the water. Raw magic burst from the basin in a thick wave, throwing Briar backward a split-second before it crashed into Sylvie and me.

My feet left the air. The world became a blur of light and sound. My stomach lurched as I sailed backward, my back slamming into something hard.

Sylvie crashed beside me, and she gasped as she rolled to her side. Vision swimming, I grasped her shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. Where’s Briar?”

“Here,” he said, appearing on her other side. Blood trickled from his temple, but he appeared otherwise unharmed as he crouched next to her. He nodded toward the godswell, his expression grim. “Look.”

On the platform, lightning leapt from the water and coiled around Silas’s arm. His eyes rolled back in his head until only the whites showed. An unseen wind blasted him, whipping his robes and hair. Bright blue light pulsed from the water and spilled over the sides. Thunder boomed, and the temple rocked, dust sifting from the ceiling.

The air hummed, energy gathering.

No, a tempest gathered. I watched Silas, my mind racing. Silas was evil, but magic wasn’t. Like a storm, it was neither good nor bad. It just was . Magic could be summoned. It could be seized. It destroyed, yes, but it could also be harnessed.

“We’ll rush him,” I said, catching Briar’s eye. Fifty years flowed between us. Saltvale flowed between us. “We’ll do it together. If you hit him hard enough, I’ll grab the lightning.”

Sylvie gripped my arm, her eyes wide with fear. “It’s too powerful. You’ll burn up, Tanyl.”

I cupped her cheek. “I’m the king of the tempest, Beauty. And I’ve held far hotter things than lightning.”

She made an impatient sound. “You don’t have your magic. Trust me when I say it’s too much for one person to hold.”

I trusted her. She knew lightning better than anyone. But I also wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her, ever.

I looked at Briar. “On three?”

He nodded. “I’m with you.” Emotion moved through his slate gray eyes, and his voice went soft. “I should have never left.”

My heart clenched, but it didn’t shrink. It expanded. “On three,” I said. “Three… Two…”

Briar exploded from the ground. He sprinted forward, his body a blur as my cry of protest split the air. He vaulted the platform’s steps and struck the basin with both hands.

It flew off the pedestal. Silas staggered back, his eyes blue once more and a bellow of rage ripping from his throat.

The basin crashed to the ground, its water spilling across the floor in a flood of crackling blue power. The river built and built, widening in a rush. Lightning forked over and through it, snapping and hissing like ten thousand serpents.

Alarm seized me, and I grabbed Sylvie and scrambled to my feet, hauling her with me. “We have to move,” I shouted over the hum of power. The tempest was loose. And now it was too great for anyone to contain.

“Fool!” Silas shouted at Briar. They faced off across the platform, the wind buffeting them both. “You have no idea what you’ve done!”

Briar’s chest heaved. “Yes, I do. Your reign is over, Silas. You perverted Perun’s word. You’re an offense to the gods.” In a movement too fast to track, Briar produced a dagger. “You’ve earned your death. May Perun guide my hand as I deliver it.”

Mouth wide on a roar, Briar charged.

Silas whipped Skycleaver from the folds of his robes.

My heart stopped.

The world stopped.

And then it sped up. Too fast. Briar moved too fast, his momentum carrying him into the sword. Skycleaver pierced his chest and protruded from his back.

“No!” Sylvie screamed, clapping both hands over her mouth.

I rushed forward, tears and rage searing my throat. Before I reached the platform, Briar tumbled down the far side, the sword lodged in his body.

Silas dusted his hands as if he’d tossed a particularly loathsome piece of garbage.

Briar splashed into the water. Into the tempest. My cry of rage became a cry of terror.

Lightning engulfed him. It flashed over his body, exposing the skeleton under his skin. His spine bowed. His face contorted.

BOOM. Chunks of ceiling splashed in front of me, and I stumbled to a stop. More rained, stone plopping inches from my toes and stopping my progress.

Growling, I jogged backward, preparing to leap the debris.

BOOM.

A chunk of ceiling grazed my shoulder as it hit the ground next to me. The temple shook hard, knocking me off my feet.

I hit the ground. Water rushed around me, a hundred tiny rivers racing toward the maelstrom engulfing Briar.

BOOM. A high-pitched whine filled the air. The candles in the alcoves flared up the walls, filling the temple with light. The fires around the platform burned as high as a man’s head. The whine soared. My eardrums burst.

And a giant rose from the river. Blue-green hair streamed over meaty, bare shoulders. Storms swirled in his eyes. He stood over Briar, a bolt of lightning in his hand.

“SILAS OF THE RIVVEN,” he said, his voice crashing against the temple’s walls. “YOU HAVE MUCH TO ANSWER FOR.”