CHAPTER 64

CHAPTER 64

AUREN

There’s a recoil that happensin your brain when something shocking occurs. Something so violently harrowing that your thoughts blanch and withdraw. As if your mind becomes a protective mother, shielding its child’s eyes and muffling the frightening noises while the massacre occurs and she knows they’re next. Subduing the receptors, mentally numbing the fallout—it’s the last thing it can do to offer protection.

The last thing it can do to soften the impending blow.

So I hear the crowd continue their chant.

Guilty.

I see the shouting faces, the movement of the monarchs, the spill of my stained gold.

Yet all of it is dulled. Soft. Monotone. Slow like I’m in a dream. As if this is only a nightmare, and my mind is reminding me to keep me calm.

Except I know this isn’t a dream. The worst things that have happened in my life have always been while I was awake. This is no different.

Where were you?

I asked Slade that question back in Deadwell, back in the sheltered protection of the cave. It seems so long ago. What I told him then will always hold true for me. That I was glad I saved myself.

But this time, I thought he was going to be here.

I thought he was going to come.

Where are you?

I’m strong. I’ve come a long way with my magic and my control. With my emotions and thoughts. Even my physical body has gotten stronger with the intermittent training. Yet none of that is going to help me break out of this enclosure.

I need help this time.

And I don’t have it.

I don’t know where he is or why he hasn’t come, but whatever it is must be something terrible, because I know without a doubt, he’d do anything in his power to be here. To track me down and save me. Yet he isn’t here, so I can only think the worst.

Something happened to him.

Did Queen Kaila have a hand in this? Did they do something to Slade? They had to have, or he would’ve come already. He wouldn’t have let them even take me out of Fourth Kingdom in the first place.

This realization sinks in like a boulder crashing into an ocean. It bottoms out, leaving the ground beneath my feet to shake, silt lifted up to muddy my vision.

“The Conflux execution must be carried out at once.”

My eyes rock to the king.

“You have been judged culpable for your crimes in killing King Midas and stealing not one power but two.”

“I didn’t steal anything!” I scream out. “Gold-touch is mine.”

No one believes me. No one even hears me. I search the other monarchs, but they look at me as if I’m a leech they need to burn, like they don’t want me anywhere near them in case I steal their magic, too. The spectators in the square don’t hold any sympathy for me either, their expressions pure hate.

To them, I’m nothing but a lying, murdering, thieving saddle who deserves this judgment.

“Please!”

My hands grip the poles again, wet with a gold that won’t harden. The puddle at my feet is so much deeper now, reaching the middle of my shins. Black, liquid roots slink in its depths, the tipped ends stretching toward all sides of the enclosure as if they’re trying to dig their way out but can’t.

I can’t get out.

Can’t control my magic.

My back is barren.

And he’s not coming.

My soundless sob is what breaks through the haze of my mind, snapping me back into full awareness. Without the buffer of my mental shield, I’m clutched in the chaos of my own condemnation.

The monarchs are all standing now, and there are guards surrounding my enclosure. Guards I didn’t even notice approach. They wear no armor, but their uniforms are starch-white with belts of gray to hold the sins of their blades.

“Arm!” King Merewen orders.

Every single guard pulls out his sword. There are six of them in total—three in front of me, three in back, surrounding my small circle.

It seems like some sort of cruel irony for there to be six.

“Please!” I scream again, but no one cares to hear my plea.

My heart pounds like it’s trying to break a hole through my chest and escape, but no part of me is leaving this enclosure.

Is this truly it? After everything. After fucking everything, is this my end? Condemned to death because of Midas?

Another cruel irony, that I should be executed because they think I stole gold-touch from him.

“Raise!”

The guards lift their swords. All six blades notched between the poles, their sharp tips pointed at me with lethal intent.

This enclosure is so small that the moment they stick these blades in, I’ll be stabbed through on all sides. There is no escaping this.

There is no way out.

Tears stream down my face, futile drips that barely reveal the panicked terror I’m flooded with.

I spin around, trying to jostle the barred door, but it doesn’t budge at all.

“Please!”

After all I did to be free, I’m going to die trapped behind bars anyway, locked in a cage I can’t escape. That’s how cruel life is.

It’s almost as if I can feel Midas laughing over my shoulder.

I surge inside of myself, trying to pull out my fae beast, trying to break past the runes at my feet, to shove apart the poles that surround me.

Nothing works.

My beast is curled up, feathers withering with exhaustion. My gold can do nothing but drain out of my skin. The structure that surrounds me feels like it’s closing in.

I’m trapped.

King Merewen meets my eyes from over the guards’ heads. “Lady Auren, I now sentence you to die.”

The blades close in.

And so do my eyes.

I feel the first piercings of the swords like a fingertip getting pricked by a wayward sewing needle. Sharp. Small. Just the very tip biting through my skin.

So I breathe. A single phrase caught in the exhale, joined with the sorrow of my heart.

Find me in another life.

Find me in them all.

And then there is no room for words. None for coherent thought, because the first of those swords sinks in deeper, and pain erases everything else.

My body braces. My mind empties.

But then…the world erupts.

I don’t understand for a moment. When the ground shakes. When the screams sound. I can’t grasp that the blades pressed into my body are no longer firm or sharp. My numbed mind only registers something is off when they fall away from me.

My eyes snap open to see dust as thick as fog crowding in the air. Looking down, I see that the swords are no longer gleaming and silver, but mottled with rust the color of amber stones and tangerines, and then they suddenly disintegrate completely. I can feel them burst into powder where they’ve sunk into my body.

And the guards...

I watch the man in front of me as his body morphs. Terrified eyes go opaque, sinking down into their sockets. His jaw hangs open like his muscles can no longer hold it. His lips peel, exposing a row of browning teeth. His veins fester and burst, lesions peeling back up and down his neck. He tries to grab hold of the pole, but his hands shrivel down to the bone.

When he falls, his body swells and twitches, bloating up unfathomably large, before everything then seems to suck inward, shrinking and shriveling until he’s just a husk of bones and dust.

I spin around at the thump and clang that surrounds me, seeing that all of the guards have met the same fate.

My head snaps up, my eyes searching, heart leaping...

And then I see him.

I’m not sure I’ve ever felt true elation until right in this moment. It’s visceral, draping around me like the warmth of his body, my heart surging at the sight of him and making a sob wrest from my deepest depths.

He came.

He came for me.

A timberwing lands right in the middle of the square with a fierce roar, and the crowd screams as they flee, though they don’t go fast enough.

The moment Slade jumps off the beast, the very second his booted feet hit the stones, rot slams out in every direction. It consumes the crowd of onlookers, tainted roots growing and spreading, infesting everything in its path. The people fall, one after the other, bodies left to languish and decay, the guards surrounding the crowd succumbing to the same fate.

I cling to the pole in front of me, trying to keep upright, as cries crack the back of my throat and leak past my lips. Our gazes lock together, my heart locked with it.

I can feel the fury pouring out of him in endless waves, and the amount of power pulses in the air, but it doesn’t make my stomach roil, doesn’t make nausea churn.

He walks toward me with a savage stride, making the ground crumble, making the square squelch into silence as he rots everyone in his path and lets his boots crush their decayed bodies into dust. Until there are no more screams. No more running. Only quiet death lies in his wake.

I’ll be the villain for you.

He is the epitome of death and revenge. The personification of rage.

He destroys everything and everyone in his vicinity without glance or thought, and through the chaos, through the massacre, I revel in it.

Maybe it’s the rot inside me. Maybe it’s being fae.

But maybe, it’s simply the fact that the person I love is willing to destroy the world to protect me. And that is its own kind of power that not even this enclosure can drain away.

So long as we’re together, everything is okay. Because I will fight for him, and he will kill for me, and if we need to be the villains, then so be it.

Slade strides straight ahead with murder in his eyes, while the roots of his power writhe and coil along his forearms and neck, mirroring the rot that worms through the ground. When he’s just ten feet away from the stage, his gaze splits to the monarchs and some of the nobles and guards.

They’re huddled together on the stage, and I wonder for a moment if Queen Isolte is trying to squelch Slade’s power with hers. If so, she’s failing miserably.

She’s no match for him.

No one is.

Which is why I’m surprised none of them have used these last several seconds to try and flee. Instead, they’re shouting at King Merewen, telling him to hurry. I don’t understand, but then I see the little boy—the one who must be the prince of Second Kingdom—his father holding his shoulders and positioning him in front of them.

Outrage slams into me like a fist. Are they hoping, by blocking themselves with an innocent kid, that Slade won’t destroy them?

The thought is despicable, but they should know that when it comes to Slade’s magic, he is precise. He could rot them all and not let a single bit of it touch the boy, just like he destroyed the guards that surrounded me.

But then King Merewen snaps something to his son. The boy nods and reaches into the pocket of his robe, and he pulls out a spool of thread. In a blink, he’s yanked the thread between his fingers, and then he closes his eyes in concentration, pulling the unspooled thread into a taut line. Magic sparks to life in the air like someone just poured oil over a flame.

Slade is just three feet from the stage, already sprinting up the steps, when the boy’s magic slams into place.

If I weren’t holding onto the poles, I would’ve fallen down. The collected gold sloshes wildly at my legs. Yet my eyes are riveted ahead to where the entire stage is now covered in what looks like a veil of fabric the same color as the boy’s thread. I’m also contained in a second layer that separates me from them, the veil slightly thicker where it surrounds my enclosure.

The whole thing swells and undulates like laundry hanging from a clothesline and blowing in a breeze. Stretching over us like a dome, it’s not quite solid, the fabric turning translucent as it moves, glistening in the sunlight.

Slade slams into it, and the fabric bends around him before pulling tight and shoving him back.

“You cannot get through,” King Merewen calls out with arrogant victory, still gripping the shoulders of his son. The boy continues to squeeze his eyes shut, his small fingers holding onto his thread.

Slade raises both hands and shoves them against the barrier. Feet braced, muscles bunching, rot pours out of his touch with livid fortitude, and I watch as veins stretch up around the domed fabric to spread its infection.

Instead of the rot making the billowing shield deteriorate, the corroded capillaries seem to do nothing at all. Slade growls out, pushing even more power, so thickly that it seems to tingle against my skin.

But it does nothing to the shield of blowing fabric.

The power suddenly cuts off, my riveted gaze blurring as Slade starts to pant, sweat dripping from his hair, anger grinding through his jaw.

“King Ravinger, as I said before, you cannot get through. My son’s veil is impenetrable. But let us speak,” King Merewen says, holding out his arms like he’s some benevolent, enlightened man. “We are not your enemies.”

Slade bares his teeth at him, giving a look that even chills my blood. “Anyone who hurts Auren is my enemy.”

“But that’s just it, King Ravinger. She is the enemy,” Queen Isolte says.

Queen Kaila nods and steps past her brother. “Exactly. We’ve just proven it here at the Conflux, which is why it was so imperative we got her away from you. She’s dangerous. Tricking kings and taking their power. We didn’t want to stand by and let it happen to you too.”

Fury makes the gold still pouring from my hands go molten. It lands in steaming drops that hiss as they fall.

“Her claws needed to be ripped from your mind. See for yourself,” King Merewen says, gesturing toward me. “She has stolen gold-touch, but now, she has also stolen your rot. You should’ve turned her in sooner.”

Slade’s eyes jump to me, falling down to the gold now lapping at my thighs, at the rooting lines that swim in their depths. All while gold pours from my hands with an unnatural pull. My eyes feel heavy. My heart lagging.

“She stole nothing,” he says on a growl. “Release her. Now.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Merewen says. “You know the law. Once the accused has been found culpable, the judgment must be carried out.”

The force of his furor makes Slade practically shake. “If you touch her, I will rot every single one of you right here, right now.”

King Thold shifts on his feet, his snakes hissing with agitation. “Merewen, perhaps we should discuss this...”

“No,” he snaps, the blotches on his cheeks growing redder. “The judgment has been made. Do you want her to steal your power too?” he demands before his eyes whip toward the new Fifth King. “What about you? Would you like her to seduce you and then steal yours?”

Both men say nothing to that.

“She killed a king. We can’t stand by and do nothing,” Queen Isolte puts in. “She’s a tainted woman who needs to face her fate.”

Slade looks at them, body so still that it’s eerie. As if he even so much as blinks, he’s going to tear them apart. “Drop this barrier and let her out. Now. Or what I did today in this square will be nothing compared to what I do next.”

He grounds out the threat between bitten words so quiet that I have to strain to hear him.

“You can hide behind this shield for as long as your son can hold it, but I assure you, I will wait longer. The moment it drops, I will curdle your skin and wither your bones. I will decay you slowly, from the inside out, until you’re nothing but an agonized corpse left to fester in the sun. Then, I will destroy every last person in your kingdoms, and I will not rest until all of Orea crumbles out of existence.”

The other monarchs blanch.

Queen Isolte shakes her head in disbelief. “King Ravinger, we’re trying to help—”

“Drop the shield now. I’m not going to ask again.”

“But—”

“Drop it,” King Merewen says, cutting off his wife.

She looks shocked. “The ruling of the Conflux is holy.”

“Shut your mouth, woman,” he seethes before he turns to his son. “Drop the barrier, boy.”

But the boy doesn’t open his eyes. Doesn’t make a noise.

His father rounds on him with irritation. “Did you hear me? I said drop it!” The king goes to shake him, but as soon as his hand touches his shoulder, the boy crumples to the ground and starts to convulse.

“Hamus!” Queen Isolte scrambles to her son, falling to her knees beside him. She holds his cheeks, trying to stop his violent shaking, but it doesn’t help. She rounds on her husband. “This is your fault for pushing him to use so much magic!”

I sway.

Even though it’s nothing compared to the amounts of gold I’ve expelled before, this drain on my power is too continuous, too forced.

“Auren?”

It takes me several blinks before Slade can come back into focus. “I...”

Whatever he sees on my expression or hears in my choked off words makes the blood drain from his face. He whips his head back toward the others. “Get her the fuck out of there!”

“Merewen, get the barrier to drop, or he’s going to fucking kill us,” King Thold hisses as much as his snakes.

Queen Kaila looks torn between wanting to see me die and wanting to ensure she saves her own neck.

But the prince isn’t waking, his body keeps thrashing, the thread tangled between his hands. His father curses and rushes over, tries to snatch the thread away, making Isolte scream. But even that does nothing.

And I...I fall back.

My shoulders hit the poles, and I look down at the gold that’s now splashing around my chest, some of it reaching the puncture marks from the swords. Seeing them springs up the pain that surrounds me from all sides, my blood mixing with the rest.

“Slade...” My voice doesn’t come out as more than a whisper, but he hears me.

He always hears me, even when I don’t say a thing.

Expression full of animalistic fury, Slade rips out the sword from his belt, raises it up, and slams it down across the fabric. Even though it looks like it shouldn’t hold any hope against Slade’s sword, the threads absorb the blow, the sharp blade completely impotent, the barrier immune to the slash.

But he slashes at it again and again and again.

He throws his brute strength at it, trying to slam his body through it, trying to hack at it, trying to pour so much rot over the barrier that the noxious veins encompass so thoroughly that it nearly blocks my sight of him completely.

“Hold on, Auren! Hold on!”

But my knees shake, legs giving out. I don’t sink down in the gold though, because the black, liquid roots seem to catch me, keeping me afloat.

Panic comes over his face, and that’s when I know there’s no hope.

He can’t get to me.

There’s pure torture in his eyes, and my entire soul just cracks.

My bottom lip wobbles. My love for him drains from me as much as my power, collecting around me, wishing it could reach him.

But it can’t.

Ican’t.

He came for me, but he can’t get to me.

Hot tears score lines down my shaking cheeks. But I try to pull them up. Try to give him a smile. “Find me in another life.”

“No!” The anguish thrown from his throat feels like it tumbles right at my feet.

I blink, head cradled against the bars, and I watch as he suddenly brings up both hands. And then I feel the hair rise on the back of my neck.

In the next instant, magic comes slamming out so forcefully that it steals the breath from my chest and holds it in its fist.

Raw magic blasts from his body and pours into the barrier.

As soon as it makes contact, the entire dome starts to vibrate. Several of the monarchs clutch their heads, cringing back, while the prince passes out, body going still.

Slade’s power dominates the air.

He directs it all to the double-layered shield in front of me, pouring all of his energy into the spot around my enclosure. My skin is covered in chills, my ears ringing, even the rotted gold around me acts erratically. Unnatural wind gusts from the spot where he’s trying to breach through the barrier, and I’m stuck in the storm of its charged ferocity.

His body quakes, veins shrinking and expanding in an eerie pulse. I can see his jaw muscles working, see the fierce determination in his eyes as spikes burst from his arms, even as I grow weaker and weaker.

“Just hold on!”

I’m trying, I want to say, but I can’t get the words out.

“Hold—”

His words get ripped from his throat at the same time that a rip suddenly rends through the air.

I watch as the fabric right in front of me tears open, like someone grabbed it and ripped it in two. A rush of sweet-smelling wind blows back my hair as I blink at the twelve foot rip. It’s torn through the poles, split right down to the ground, making some of my gold start to drain into it.

The gaping slash is clotted with roiling clouds of black and white that churn in its starry, electrified depths. It looks bottomless, ethereal, and as soon as I smell the air, the beast inside of me sings.

Because it carries the breeze of home.

It feels like I release a breath that’s been locked in my chest for twenty years. With that long breath, my skin warms, my gold glows.

I was my parents’ little sun. And with the world torn open, with the fragment of home just inside that rip, I actually feel like one. Like if I could just fall into that cracked-open sky, I could shine forever.

And yet, when I look away from the rip right in front of me, past its mirrored and mottled air, I see the look on Slade’s exhausted face.

I see horrified realization in his dark eyes.

The shine, the warmth, the glow, it all dulls. It all chokes out like a fist at my throat.

“Auren...”

The moment he says my name, I understand.

He swallows hard, head shaking. “I was trying to rip through the barrier to get to you, but...”

But he tore a rip into Annwyn instead.

“Auren. You need to go into it.”

My eyes go wide, liquid gold churning in waves around my shoulders. If the runes forcing me to drain out my energy don’t kill me, I’ll drown in my gold instead.

“Auren.”

I glance from the rip to him, and I’m so terrified, but I know it’s the only way, because he’s tried everything else, and it’s home. Annwyn is home, and—

But then I realize.

Then I truly see.

“The rip...you can’t get to the rip.”

His lips are pressed into a thin line, his eyes full of speechless agony.

“You have to come with me,” I say, panicked, terrified, despairing.

He shakes his head, and my foundation shakes with it. “I can’t. You have to go into it, baby. You have to. I can’t get to you, and you can’t stay there. You’re fading.”

My head shakes, tears pooling from my eyes. “I can’t. I can’t. Not without you,” I beg. Fight. Wail.

“Look at me,” he demands, even as his chest heaves. “You have to go in. You’re strong. So keep your rage to fuel your courage and save yourself again.”

Sobs wrench from my soul, anguish suffocating me. “But—”

“I will find you. I will find you in that life. I fucking promise you that. But you have to go.” Two wet tears split down his cheek, and the sight makes anguish split through my soul. “Please, baby.” His beg bleeds through the cracks of his voice. Stabs straight through my heart.

“Slade…”

He gives me a nod. Tries to give me his strength. His dark eyes and darker aura bore into me, surround me.

“I’ll find you, Goldfinch. I swear to you. Now fly.”

So with a sob suffocating my throat, I close my eyes. Lift my arms. Suck in a breath I wish was filled with his scent. Then, I tip down into that fathomless, familiar unknown.

Through the rip in the world, with a rip torn through my heart, I plunge out of Orea, into the storming depths of Annwyn.

Alone.