Sadal smiles coldly as I gasp in pain. He squeezes my wrist and I cry out as the dagger clatters to the ground. “Darling,” he purrs. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Sadal’s words are mild, but his eyes are cold and vicious. Fear lances through me as I realize that I’ve failed. I missed my only chance to strike down Sadal and save Altair and his kingdom. My chance to save myself. I quake in Sadal’s grip and Altair lunges for me.
“Verity,” he shouts, his sword hanging loosely at his side as if forgotten.
I stare at Altair, feeling cold and frightened. I lift a hand to reach for him but suddenly the world is black and nonexistent. All I can feel is Sadal’s cold, painful grip on my wrist.
Chapter 12
Altair
Lightning flashes outside, thunder roiling behind it. I stare out the windows, dripping with heavy rain. Since the battle with Sadal, it's been constant thunderstorms – as if to remind me of our heavy losses. Cold ocean waves crash against the cliffs below, foam spraying high enough to reach the low windows of the fort.
The retreat from the Castle was a mass of blood and screams and fear. The tunnels were packed with soldiers blood seeping from wounds swords gripped tightly in hand. Now, almost three hundred miles from Desmarais, the last of our forces are huddled inside the dark stone walls of an ancient, oceanside fortress. There are so few left, all of them can fit comfortably inside these walls.
My eyes follow a heavy drop of rain as it trails down the windowpane. I remember the hasty retreat from the carnage of the battle. As I followed the last of my soldiers into the dark tunnels, the remaining alchemists chose to stay behind. I know it wasn't bravery that possessed them, but rather their own curiosity. Alchemists, in their own, morbid way, have always lived one foot outside of this world. It’s why they’re so despised by the more practical Fae; it reads too much like Bloodbane magic than the science the alchemists claim.
Joana and her students had done as I asked and done it quickly. Before we had even escaped the monolith above, I felt the very air quake with power. Whatever the alchemists had cooked up, I knew there was nothing left for that dark god. And that’s enough for me.
I don’t pity the loss of the castle overlooking Desmarais. My lips pull back into a dark smile. Sadal deserves nothing of mine, even in conquest. I can picture him now, picking over the rubble. He won’t be bothered in the slightest, but it’s one of the few things that brings me comfort since I lost a third of Alnembra to him.
“Tell me again,” Moritz says over the crackling of the fire. “Tell me everything.”
My gaze slips towards him as lightning brightens the room. I draw the curtain against the gloomy weather. “Verity was with Sadal, she approached him from behind. I only saw her when she attacked him with this,” I say, drawing the long dagger from my belt.
I stare at the elegant blade. It shines smoothly in the light, all silver and sleek with a jeweled hilt. Delicate. The kind of blade a man would be satisfied to die on. I hand it carefully to Moritz and he studies the dagger. Moritz lifts it to eye level and turns it over in his pale hands. “Why this blade?” He asks softly.
“I don’t know.” I stare curiously at it. “She said he wouldn’t be a god for long.”
“Curious,” Moritz says thoughtfully. He sniffs it and recoils. “Blood.”
I arch a brow at him. “Surely you aren’t scared of a little gore.”
Moritz tosses the blade onto the warped wooden table between us with a look of disgust. “It smells like Bloodbane magic to me.”
I test the blade, a pungent scent filling my nose. I narrow my eyes at it. The smell of magic isn’t something easily described, but it’s not the kind of smell that’s ever easily forgotten. I smell it now – strong magic. And Verity’s own blood. I’ll never forget that smell, or the moment she lay dying in my throne room.
“It’s Verity’s,” I say.
Moritz pulls up the cowl of his cloak over his nose and furrows his brows. “It appears your woman is dealing in magic now.”
I say nothing, simply tucking the dagger back into my belt. I haven’t told anyone besides Thal what I saw when I met Sadal on the battlefield for the first time. They don’t know Verity wears the cloak of the Bloodbane. They don’t know the warning Cleo gave me in the dungeons before the evacuation. If my allies were to find out, Verity would be in danger, just as if she were any Bloodbane.
Moritz sinks down into a plush chair. “Have your generals done the count?”
“They have,” I say, sitting down on a pouffe across from him. “Ten thousand left. Of yours and mine.”
“And Haru’s archers?” Moritz’s eyes are as hard as stones.
“Six hundred,” I say softly.
Moritz takes a long breath. I always admired the steeliness of him, the way his mind instantly jumps to strategy. I feel the loss of tens of thousands deep in my chest, so painful I want to claw it out.
“That’s not enough,” Moritz murmurs. “We’re losing.”
“We are,” I agree quietly.
Thunder shakes the small chamber and the pattering of rain increases as the storm develops. I know the grey ocean will be shaking from it, nothing like the peaceful blue waters of Desmarais. I glance towards the fire, watching a log burst with heat and sparks fly into the air.
“We need to cut the head off the snake,” I say.
“And how do you suggest we do that?” Moritz narrows his eyes at me. “More fairytales from the Bloodbane witch?”
“If what she says is true, we won’t have to lose anymore soldiers in this war. We can stop
