Queen to Ashes (Black Dawn Series Book 2) Page 9

  How long had she been there watching? Eying her cautiously, the healer that she had met was gone, and in her place, Lana was every ounce the warrior Nyx dreamed she would become. She was immortal and emitted, in every movement, the true predator she was. Hair plaited back, she mimicked Nyx’s wardrobe, twin blades strapped across her back.

  Nyx asked, “Why are you being so nice to me?” She had always been horrible at navigating her feelings, expressing them even more so.

  Lana closed the space between them, gripping her forearms. “Because, Nyx Astire, I see the potential in you, even if you refuse to see it yourself. The moment we step outside that door, everything will change, and we both will be prepared. We are strong, even though we both hold wounds close to our heart that can never be healed. But the fact that we are still willing to fight for ourselves and our loved ones makes us unbreakable.”

  Nyx’s eyes burned, and her chest was tight as she appraised Lana. The windwalker grinned wolfishly at her stunned expression, and all she could see in the other woman was hope. Lana passed her the blades, and she strapped them across her back.

  It was time.

  Wordlessly, Lana motioned her to follow, and Nyx rolled her neck, bouncing on her heels as she followed. Her healing wounds groaned in protest: Adrenaline kicking in, her heart pounded, sweat collected on her palms, and her ability raced through her veins, all her senses on overdrive. A calm resolve washed over her as they stepped out on the nearly empty streets. By now, Lana had unwoven the spell that was on the gates, so they were sitting in the open for the world to see. Perfect.

  They quickly ducked behind the house as Lana swung gracefully, catching the eaves trough and pulling herself onto the roof. Following suit, Nyx ignored Lana’s extended hand even though her shoulder screamed in protest and her stitches threatened to rip. The shingles were smooth underneath her soft leather feet, and Lana winked at her.

  “Let’s go for a run, shall we?”

  Taking off like lightning, Nyx followed, pumping her arms and focusing on her breath. They flew from roof to roof, scaling the jumps with ease. It was what they both had been trained for—stealth and killing, retribution and death. It was what she was best at. They were shadows moving with the light, the world oblivious to them. Like whispers on the wind, they moved faster.

  It could have been minutes, hours, or seconds, but Lana motioned for her to go down, and they dropped. Slowing her breath, Nyx peeked over the edge. People had started to gather around a small podium in the center.

  Morgan stood outside the house they were laying on, talking gruffly to Azarius. Their voices floated up to them.

  “It is time, soldier, and your personal involvement in this better not override your duties or loyalty.”

  She disappeared and Lana stiffened beside her. Nyx closed her eyes, trying to still her heart. Focus. Their timing had to be impeccable. The door swung open; Morgan and another soldier dragging Memphis and Alby out-she dared another look and froze, her heart plummeting into her stomach. Both men staggered, Memphis’s head lolling from side-to-side, his hair hanging wildly. His pale skin was gaunt, his bones poking out at sharp angles. He was practically a walking skeleton. Reaching out to him, she tried to brush against his mind. She battered against that wall to no avail.

  With her breath hitching, she whispered, “Something is wrong. I can’t reach him. That only happens when...” Nyx couldn’t finish that sentence.

  Lana’s eyebrows knitted together, and she peeked over, trying to find Azarius. Lana took in Nyx and whispered, “We have to at least wait until they are up there, otherwise it won’t work. I will signal to Azarius as soon as that happens.”

  Nyx knew Lana was right and went back to her deep breathing. If she lost Memphis after everything... Stopping herself there, she filled herself with her dark intentions, harnessing her rage. Quietly shifting, she unsheathed her blades from her back, crossing them over her heart in a silent promise. It felt like a century before a gently pulsing light flew from Lana’s palms, shooting up into the sky like a star.

  Lana squeezed Nyx’s leg and whispered, “Now.”

  Eyes flying open, Nyx flung herself up and rocketed off the roof like a demon springing from hell. Lana followed, a battle cry tearing from her lips, rippling across the town. They flew, landing on the ground with a sharp thud. She locked eyes on her targets: Nyx gave in to the only thing that made sense to her. Running, her spirit and her anguish acted as wings as she unleashed her lethal dance.

  Screams erupted around her. Her blade sang and sparked as steel met steel in a beautiful, deadly caress that she was all too familiar with. Her dark heart thrived in this constant state of turmoil. The guards were trained, and that made it even more enjoyable. A mad cackle erupted from her lips, and she ducked from her opponent’s attack, the guard cursing colorfully.

  “What happened to them?” she demanded. The guard’s gaze flickered between her and Memphis and Alby. He answered by swinging his blade clumsily. Responding, Nyx’s blade blocked his attack and she threw her weight behind her punch. Her knuckles cracked viciously against his jaw, and she snarled.

  “I’ll ask again. What. Happened. To. Them?”

  He surged forward, and furrowing her brows, she dove into the well of power just waiting to be tapped into. The guard stopped mid-stride, looking confused as blood started to pour slowly from his nostrils. Her blood pounded and roared as she narrowed her eyes in concentration. Fear flicked in his features, the guard dying in her abilities’ grasp. Heat radiated off her as the man crumpled.

  “Wrong answer,” she whispered before racing on.

  Moving swiftly, Nyx turned and ducked just as the second guard’s attack rained down on her from behind.

  In one motion, she had both crescent moon blades grasped in each hand. Five guards now circled her, their arrogance oozing in their steps. Nyx paused for one second as she smirked, malice bleeding into her features. The previous guard should have really told her what Morgan had done to her friends.

  Blocking her attacker’s blade, both of her arms were raised in an x formation. She was face-to-face with the guard who paled. She smirked wickedly before throwing all her weight in and cutting downward. His blood dripped from her blades as she ducked and rolled, slicing at the other guards.

  Recovering, she stood, roaring as her ability exploded from her, trapping the guards’ minds under her sharp claws. Their pleas, their fears, their regrets shivered down her hold, filling her soul as they all stood before her, trembling. Using her ability, she snuffed out their lives: One by one by one.

  Nyx didn’t look back as she stalked through the chaos and death. She felt disconnected from her body. She wasn’t Nyx Astire any more as the thrilling kiss of death and vengeance wrapped around her, becoming her. She spotted Lana about a hundred yards away, fighting through the crowds toward the stage where Morgan watched with pure malice in her gaze. The civilians were fleeing the square, racing away from harm’s way, from the tyrants now before them. Good.

  “Morgan!” Lana’s scream tore through her heart, and Nyx kept on moving, her swords flashing in front of her as she fought her way to the podium. To Memphis.

  Everything was a blur of red, the only sound that consumed her was the roaring in her veins and her ragged breath. A flash of silver and another body dropped. She ducked, rolled, parried, and slashed. The wind picked up, scattering dust and debris. Azarius was playing his part well, and Nyx gave herself one second to look at the scene that was splayed before her: Lana shoved her sword through Morgan’s guard as she stalked toward the leader with frightening grace.

  A giant silver wolf was snapping and growling, caught in her own personal cyclone, unable to move, thrashing around with bloodlust. Azarius stared at the wolf, Morgan, with such intensity Nyx could see years of hatred and pain in them.

  Memphis and Alby had collapsed, unmoving at Azarius’s feet. No, you need to move! Running, Nyx wove through the crowd, shoving people out of her way. Just at that moment,
a guard launched himself at her with such determination and speed, she twirled to a defensive stance, returning his blows with equal ferocity. Sparks flew from their blades and she laughed. Shoving a knee into his groin, she didn’t hesitate to land the killing blow. Amateur.

  Leaving the bloodied scene, she knew she was almost there. Only a few more seconds...

  Her scream ripped from her, “Lana, now!”

  Lana found her in the crowd before she nodded to Azarius. The wind stopped, particles of debris standing still in the air, and Morgan growled and leapt, slashing at Lana’s throat: Lana did not hesitate. With a skilled hand, she arced her blade down and, with immortal strength, cut through Morgan’s neck with ease.

  A heavy silence followed as Morgan collapsed.

  “This is for my mother,” Lana said to the broken body, and fire shot from her palms, burning everything Morgan was to ash.

  Relief clawed through Nyx as she sprinted toward them. In a fluid motion, she dropped to her knees, desperately feeling for Memphis’s pulse.

  “No, no, no, no!” His skin was cold, no flicker of movement, of breath, of life. Lana and Azarius were beside her as she choked out a panicked scream. “Help them!”

  Lana moved her out of the way, placing a hand on each man’s chest. Closing her eyes, she started chanting softly, a harsh, beautiful language Nyx had never heard before. Azarius stood back from her, his face darkening as he took in Alby’s lifeless body. She wondered how much more he could lose before he broke. Swearing, she started to pace, shaking.

  Dragging his eyes over to her, Azarius whispered, “They will be okay.”

  “Trying to convince yourself?” Nyx asked.

  He didn’t answer, and she didn’t want him to. As always, her words were fueled by her anger, masking just how scared she was.

  A soft light flared from underneath the windwalker’s palm, and Nyx watched inky tattoos pool onto her hands, her arms. The light grew until small droplets of blackened blood oozed from their skin. The droplets of blood were caught in the light until Lana opened her eyes, breathing a word lost to her, and the blood turned to dust.

  Memphis’s eyes fluttered open first, Alby’s next, and she cried her relief. Nyx was there, beside Memphis, finding his hand in a second. She didn’t care about the spectators; she didn’t care about the gore that covered her body. Memphis blearily found her face, and she gave him a lopsided smile.

  “Will you ever stop getting yourself in stupid situations?”

  Coughing, he grimaced as he wheezed, “I could say the same about you, you know.”

  Her laugh broke into a half sob as she leaned in, whispering only for him to hear, “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  Azarius gripped her shoulder, and she jumped. “I know we are sorry, and it’s all very touching, but we need to get them inside. Now.”

  Wrenching her gaze away, she looked around at the bloodstained ground, the gaping looks. The people of Pentharrow’s thoughts drowned her.

  “Monsters. How did I trust them?”

  “We need to get our kids out, but to where?”

  “They protected us. Finally, we are free.”

  “How could Azarius never tell me that his girlfriend could fight like that?”

  Blinking, Nyx swallowed hard, looking at the empty faces and thin lines around her. Azarius tilted his head but helped Memphis, snapping at her, “Help Lana. We will meet back at the cottage.”

  “You need to diffuse the situation. Now.” Her voice sounded hoarse.

  Azarius looked at the people of Pentharrow, and to her surprise, he sighed. “You’re right.”

  Nyx’s body responded, her arm wrapping around Memphis’s lower back as she whispered, “Can you walk?”

  He frowned, saying nothing as he hobbled a step forward, his pallor draining of any color.

  “Now there’s the sensitive commander I know.”

  “Not now, Nyx.”

  She smirked. “What, a little bitter about things, Memph? Come now, you can talk to me.” Her voice was a whip of reaction, and her stomach twisted. Her sarcasm was as sharp as a knife.

  They hobbled through the carnage as she waited, her guilt building with every second.

  Just tell him. Tell him that there isn’t any physical act in the world that will make up for what I’ve done. That I just wanted him to be mine. But he never was or will be. And I couldn’t see past my jealousy. And now, within a moment, I’ve lost everything.

  Chewing the inside of her cheek, Nyx looked around. The world was constructed into splintered shards: A domino effect of decisions, of mistakes, of success, of heartbreak, of loneliness, of fear. Memphis hobbled, falling into heavy silence, and she let it go.

  As they navigated their way back to the cottage with Azarius’s pleas and reassuring murmurs drifting through the air, she steeled her heart. Her wounds oozed, blood running down her side, as she looked at the shaken town. She had been acting like a child, throwing a deadly tantrum.

  A heavy weight settled on her shoulders as twilight set over them. The sweeping stars far above starting to come into focus took her breath away. Walking past a blur of homes, her feet led her back to Lana’s cottage. Her mind was racing a thousand miles away.

  Nyx had misjudged Emory. The girl, who she had preyed on, who she viewed as weak...a girl who had accomplished something Nyx couldn’t understand until now. Emory must have been afraid; she was waltzing with her death, all for a cause she wasn’t a part of, for a past she didn’t remember. And yet, she had protected them all, granting them an impossible advantage. Time. That selfless action that Nyx was just beginning to understand was worth it a thousand times over.

  The cool wind brushed over her, goosebumps prickling her arms. The small, quaint cottage came into sight as she steered the brooding commander toward it. Sighing, Nyx desperately hoped that the only Fae was still alive. That, if the fates crossed their paths again, she could try to make things right with Emory. To, at least, try to explain.

  Shifting her weight, she threw open the door. Still Memphis didn’t say a word when he lunged forward, barely holding himself up as he wandered down the hallway.

  “The other spare room is on the left,” she whispered. The slamming of the door was his only response. Her world tilted, the pain and exhaustion catching up to her. Stalling, she was caught between moving forward and looking back.

  But as the tinges of night chased the sunset, Nyx took a steadying breath, her mind racing with how she could start to live her life putting one person first—herself. No more depending on other people or chasing her heart into those empty voids because she was scared to be alone. No more lowering her priorities, no more rash decisions. No more last resorts. No more acting out of fear.

  The door closed behind her, and she stood taller. Breathing deeply, she made her way to her bed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Emory

  Ainthe was too heavy in her grip. The steel glinted like liquid silver, hints of embers flickering faintly like a pulse that was alive and encompassing. Emory shifted her fingers, gripping the hilt, her knuckles turning white as she took in the throne room. Running her dry tongue over her teeth, she tried to still her heart, her sweaty palms, the nervous quake in her limbs.

  She should be thinking of a thousand different things, but the one thought that imprinted in her mind was, for a second, that she wanted the simplicity of earth: Of going to the movies, of dating, of the day-to-day desires and quirks that made up humans. That had made her up. Instead, she was a lost princess. An acting warrior. An executor. A traitor. And she had fragmented memories of her parents who had wanted more for her. But she had no idea how to get back to that little girl, filled with hope and power, who trusted in this world.

  “Emory?” Adair sat behind her, taking away her ability to focus and breathe. Her chest plate constricted as she stilled, feeling the shift of needles against her skin. What choice is there? Her tight-fitting leather pants felt su
ffocating along with her knee-high boots and button-down jacket. All black. The urge to rip off each article piece by piece and scrub her skin until it was raw was a very appealing option. The magically enhanced plate tightened around her chest and upper back in response. Swallowing, Emory was constantly reminded of Adair’s control over her actions and choices.

  Adair’s throne room was vast. Black marble made up most of the space, the windowless walls climbing to the top, where there was no ceiling, opening to the skies. She felt his stare boring into her back, and the guards flanked the walls, too still, too emotionless.

  “You were brought here today to answer for your actions. How do you plead?” Emory’s voice broke, crackling into nothingness as she stared at the man in front of her.

  His clear blue eyes filled with fear, his ashen hair streaked with sweat, mixing with dirt and filth. He had spent weeks down in the cell, in the darkness, alone. “I-I didn’t mean to! I was hungry. I didn’t want to do it anymore.”

  “Do what exactly?”

  Tears streaked down his face. “Kill. I didn’t want to kill anymore.”

  “You realize you ignored your duties as a soldier of your king’s army? Your direct instructions?” She didn’t recognize her voice anymore.

  He sputtered, “If I hadn’t been aware, we wouldn’t be here.”

  Save him. Save him. Save him. “Your refusal and stealing have been reported as direct defiance against King Adair. Do you plead ignorance?” Say yes. Please, say yes. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

  He jutted his chin out. “I plead guilty. If that’s even what you can call this. I’m not a mindless machine. I am not killing anyone, direct order or no. These were civilians. Our people. Ability or not, I won’t be a mindless murderer.”

  She choked out Adair’s words, her despair clutching her fiercely in its claws. “If you plead guilty, your sentence will be...”

  Stalling, her hands shook violently, and the scene before her changed. The man was washed away, blue eyes to gold. Chiselled features, alluring lips, broad shoulders. His golden hair sweeping in his eyes. A face that was a thousand things to her. Breath picking up, she wanted to reach out to him, to find warmth and safety. Brokk would never let her fall astray.