“Verity,” I shout, reaching for her.
Her eyes are wide, locked on mine for an instant before she disappears. I spin, almost losing my footing on the slick stone. But Verity is gone. The dagger is still on the ground and I tuck it into my belt. With a roar of fury, I throw myself into the clouds and shift into my cursed form. Verity is gone, gone, gone. It’s all I can think. Verity. The castle is coming back into view, and I know we’re overrun. Moritz will have called for the retreat. I fly towards the tunnels and see the last of my men fending off the demons.
We’ve lost.
Chapter 11
Verity
The night was long after my dream of Altair. Sleep never came for me again, but the images of Altair were so clear I didn’t want to sleep anyway. I only wanted to remember. I spent the last stretches of darkness finessing the spell that will turn Sadal mortal.
I heard the demons marching all night and the Bloodbane rustling into action. I knew something was on the horizon, another of Sadal’s plans to take the kingdom and then more. The light of the morning sun glows against the red walls of the tent. I feel like I’m trapped in a giant womb. I bend on the ground, using powdered glass to create intricate patterns on the tent floor. My blood is already pooled beneath the powder, glistening in the low light. I take the dagger in hand and slip it through my blood and the various powders and spellwork.
The air sings with the force of the enchantment and a grin stretches across my face. I lift the dagger and stare at my reflection in the dark blood. I wait for a moment for the blood to absorb into the porous metal and then wipe it clean on the folds of my cloak. The sun is brighter now, and the marching of the demons is just an echo in the distance. Sadal will be here soon. Whatever he is planning, we’re on the cusp of it.
I scramble to hide my spell and tuck the blade into a strap of leather I’ve tied around my thigh. Sadal’s fingers are always playing at my waist, making me sick. I rise from my kneeling position and catch my reflection in the mirror. Bruises have blossomed on my neck, like pale purple orchids. I close my eyes and relive the moments Sadal forced himself on me. Anger blooms in my chest and my stomach coils with the intensity of it.
I crack my knuckles, imagining it’s the sound of Sadal’s bones breaking and I feel a small thread of satisfaction. With a vicious smile on my lips I slip out of the tent and into the foggy morning air. I take a deep breath of clean mountain air. The soft wind blowing through the pass has cleared the air of the demons’ stench that hung heavy over it. It’s a new place now, reborn. I would almost call the gray crevices and tall, sheer cliffs beautiful.
Nowhere I’ve been in my own dimension was anything as imposing as the pass we’ve camped in for the past few nights. I think back to only a few months ago, when I knew nothing of Fae or old gods or magic. I smile, picturing the students at the rundown high school I worked in. I wonder if any of them noticed my absence or how the administration explained my disappearance. I wonder about my parents, if their lives have returned to normal yet. I wonder if they have pictures of me on their mantle, if they tell new friends that their daughter disappeared, and they still hope for her return. I feel a pang of guilt and sorrow in my chest as I think of the life I lost.
But there are people in Alnembra, thousands of people, who needed me. And they still do. Because without me, the curse will take hold again. I know it will, I can feel it coming. But Sadal doesn’t need the curse to take what he wants. I wonder if he simply let Maaz play her games because he was bored.
Sadal doesn’t have to speak for me to recognize his sudden presence. The air itself grows cold; a cloud mysteriously blocks the sun. I glance over my shoulder towards him. He stands tall, imposing, and surrounded by a quiet anger. My thoughts flash to last night and I know he’s thinking of it too. I wonder just how many Bloodbane have ever denied him. But I’m no Bloodbane. This cloak means nothing, and neither does my quest for vengeance – no matter what Nakarr says.
“I have a surprise for you,” he says smoothly, his black eyes roving over me. They linger at the wet blood on my cloak. “What’s that?”
I trace it with my finger and hold it out to me, the blood glittering in the sun. “Have a taste,” I say innocently. I lick the blood from my finger when he doesn’t come closer.
Sadal stares at me with unreadable expression before slipping an arm around my waist. “Ready, my bride?”
I stare up at him defiantly. “Ready.”
I mean it. Whatever horror he has in store for me, whatever vicious plan he’s concocted to break me, it won’t work. Sadal smiles at me and it stretches too wide. I know he senses my defiance, that he knows I’m more stubborn than ever. Without warning, he forces a rough kiss to my lips, and I lurch back in surprise. His tongue darts into my mouth and I release a muffled cry. I feel his cold skin heat at the sound.
He darts away as I bite down hard on his bottom lip. I taste blood, sharp and sour, and spit it out, onto his shoes. He chuckles, unbothered by the pain or the soiling of his clothes. Sadal wipes away the blood and smears it across my cheek with his thumb. I flinch away, disgusted by
