With restless fae spirits roaming Gallantia, and perhaps, if I could get closer to Ritalia, with more than one prophecy fulfilled.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Malakai
“Why arewe constantly left in the fucking dark, as toys and playthings for the deities?” Ophelia had thrown at the queen.
Ritalia was trying so damn hard to tell her something without saying it. To fight through the lock the Fae Goddess put on information about the Warrior God, her mouth opening and closing in a very un-queenlike manner.
As I struck out at another fae blade, Ritalia’s voice skimmed the air of the cavern, all the heaviness of her crown instilled in it. “I don’t know. Trust the gods, though.”
I huffed a laugh at that, ducking a swipe of my enemy’s sword and parrying as my heart thudded uncomfortably.Trust the gods? The Angels were who we worshipped, and we couldn’t even trust them. What were the gods to us?
Ophelia kept one eye on Tolek, worry and fury etched deep in the harsh lines of her face. But the way Lancaster had spoken on the sphinx while we flew over here made me trust him.
She placed rules on my sister’s life that have caused her a great deal of pain, and she took more than I can name from me. I have felt the ill will of bargains that reign through thegenerations, and will do what is in my power to guide hands to unravel them.
And he’d healed Mila tonight. Had stood against Brystin.
The rest of these fae? They could rot with the cypher magic. But perhaps there was more to the words Lancaster had spoken?—
One of Ritalia’s soldiers swiped at me with a dagger. I dodged, but the fae were everywhere, and they were lightning-quick.
My heart stuttered again, and I stumbled. Something burned behind my ribs, distracting me enough for the soldier to jam the hilt of his dagger below my temple, striking the top of my cheekbone. I bit my tongue at the impact.
“Oh, fuck,” I grumbled, spitting blood to the floor.
Cypherion was at the male’s back, knife dragging across his throat as my vision spotted.
“He get your head?” Cyph asked over the clash of metal.
I shook out the pain, blinking to steady myself. “Barely. Fuckers have to have better aim,” I said, falling back into line.
“Won’t help him now,” Cyph answered.
A high whinny sounded, and Sapphire swooped down, prancing sharply along fae soldier’s unhelmeted heads. Careless, to come here without a hint of armor. To so gravely underestimate warrior potential.
The pegasus’ wings turned the blood-streaked scene into a feathered frenzy as she fought with us. I feinted, spinning around my next opponent to get his back to Cypherion, who finished him off with a sword between his ribs.
On the seats, Zanox and Dynaxtar flared their wings as if they’d take off, too. Or open those deadly mouths and emit those white-blue flames I’d seen before. It was only once, during the final battle. The khrysaor had never done it since.
Perhaps it was a power not fully awoken or trained, one that Jezebel’s hand resting on Zanox’s leg said not to test in such close quarters. I didn’t have time to consider it now, though.
Between opponents, I searched for Mila’s hidden form.
Still there. Chest rising and falling. Fucking Spirits, whatever was in that water had really infected her to keep her down this long.
I needed to get back to her. Needed up those steps and away from this fucking battle. With a sloppy lunge, I drove my sword into the back of a soldier advancing on Santorina.
“Thanks,” Rina breathed as the fae collapsed at her feet.
“Let that Bounty blood kick in,” I joked.
She scowled, but we both turned back to the fight.
Or we tried to, but the body of the male I’d just killed swung up, his sword raised. I whirled, ready to strike, but his head sagged?—
Jezebel. I spun toward the seats. Her stare narrow, Jez commanded the fallen’s spirit with impressive speed. All the way across the cavern until he rammed straight into the lone standing Engrossian soldier, opening up the way to the councilman.
