CHAPTER 53

EMONIE

Just as my boot hits the first step leading up the building, someone comes out through the doorway.

I freeze.

I don't know what I did to piss off Droni, my favorite goddess, but she is clearly not favoring me right now.

Because the person that comes out is the other twin .

My eyes go wide for a split second before I can stop myself and move out of the way. "What are you doing back already?" he says to me, barely looking in my direction.

My body flushes with hot panic, and for a moment, I don't know what to do. But instinct takes over and I turn on my heel and walk beside him, because it seems like that's what he expects.

I steal a look over my shoulder at the building as I get further away from it.

Dammit !

Inwardly, I'm panicking so much that it takes me a couple seconds to realize he's speaking. "…shouldn't do. Because now, we'll have to test out our power on that as well. While maintaining our current hold. It won't be easy."

I say nothing, because while I can grit through a male impersonation, I'm sure this fae knows his brother's voice better than his own. Or maybe it's his own voice too since they're twins? Something to ponder.

Silently, of course.

"He may want us to go with him. But we're close now, Fassa. Once this is over, we're going to be the richest fae in Annwyn for our service to the crown. We'll get our choice of land here in Orea too." He pauses. "Pruinn is probably dead. But no matter. That means we won't have to split the pie with him any longer."

I bob my head in agreement, though I have no idea who Pruinn is.

"What's wrong with you?" he suddenly asks as we begin to walk beneath the pavilion. I almost stumble with nervousness, but I shake my head, trying to play it off.

But he grabs hold of my arm, wrenching me to an abrupt stop. I go still, panic flaring as he faces me.

His eyes narrow, gaze dropping down. "What are you wearing?"

I open my mouth to say something, but I don't get the chance. His gaze slams back up against my borrowed face.

His expression darkens with sudden menace. "You're not my brother."

The sentence is like a death toll. Each word ringing in my ears.

Trying to salvage my disguise—my life—I shake my head. "What are you talking about?" I grumble out. "Yes I am."

His eyes flare, and quicker than I can react, the other twin—the one whose features I'm wearing—comes up beside us. "Friano?"

You have got to be kidding me.

The moment his gaze travels from his brother to me, I feel a noose tighten around my throat.

"What is this?" he hisses.

All around us, other Stone Swords have stopped to look in our direction as they realize something is happening.

I'm thoroughly caught. Like a mouse in a trap, surrounded by hungry cats.

The twins—the real ones—share a look, and then both of them slap their palms against my chest without warning. Magic spews from their fingers, leaving me itchy all over.

My glamour suddenly peels away, like one long strip of skin yanked off, leaving me raw and chafing.

"Restore something," one twin says.

I stumble back, a pained grunt escaping me as my hand flies up to my ear. My fingers find the source of the sharp stinging sensations, and my eyes go wide at what I feel.

"And instill something," the other one finishes.

The top of my left ear had been sliced off from King Carrick's orders, but now, something has sprouted from it. Like thin, curved branches, it comes out of the cut cartilage to curl around the entire shape of my ear. Curling like…

"Looks like the little changeling has sprouted an antler," the twin I'd pretended to be—Fassa—says. "And it draws attention to what she really is," he goes on, staring at my cut ear. "A traitor to her own kind. Vulmin, an Orean-loving scum."

Noises of disgust ripple out from the other Stone Swords, and my stomach twists into knots.

The other brother takes a threatening step toward me that makes me flinch. "You think I wouldn't know my own brother? I could sense him even if I were deaf, blind, and magic-less. We are connected by more than power or blood. Twins have a sixth sense with one another."

"Seems tedious," I mutter, dropping my hand from my ear.

He doesn't find that amusing, and his anger seems to stir up the soldiers, because I feel some of them behind me move closer. Anxiousness skitters through my limbs, my gaze flicking every which way as my body tenses.

"What do you want to do with her?" someone asks.

The twins look terrifying now, and I shift my body ever so slightly as they answer in unison. "Teach this Orean sympathizer a lesson."

The soldiers move to pounce. I only have time to yank out the sword from my belt and swing. I slice through the arm of the closest soldier, and then pivot, aiming for the twin's chest, but he's pushed out of the way by his brother.

The Stone Swords descend upon me like rabid wolves.

There are far too many.

Someone slams their arm against my wrist, making my hold on the weapon falter. I flail and swing around, trying to stab someone, anyone , and I feel my blade hit someone's armor with a rocky scrape. But then the sword is wrenched out of my clawed fingers, with a simultaneous kick to the gut.

I start to fall.

Everyone knows when you're in a fight, it's a death sentence to fall. The moment you're on the ground, it's over. So when my knees hit the stone and the kicks start coming, I know I'm dead.

There's no coming back from this.

Pain showers down on me like pellets of punishing rain. The ominous press of bodies that surrounds my fetal form just oppressive clouds of gray. They land hits and kicks so savagely it steals my breath. Cracks my ribs. Boots stabbing into muscle and organs, limbs viciously butchered with slices of blades that hit like whips.

I curl up into a ball, head tucked, knees up, and endure. There's nothing else to do.

My body is pelted with brutality. My clothes are torn, boots kicked off, hair ripped from my scalp. There is no source of pain, because it's everywhere, all at once. There's no breath, no thoughts, no anything, except this downpour of agony that I know is going to kill me.

Tears leak from my eyes, burning as they land on my arm, while the deluge floods my system, soaking me through with its torture.

A kick to the temple has me blacking out for a few seconds, my mind heavy with resentful consciousness, though I know my body can't take much more.

Grief and terror are my inner torrent, but when I nearly black out again, everything suddenly stops. Or maybe it isn't so sudden, because time feels like it's been fastened. Holding on with a grudge.

I look up blearily, body floating, and it takes me several seconds for my mind to connect the faces of the twins standing over me.

They look at me with hate, and then I'm pulled away, body caught at the ankles. I'm dragged off the stone pavilion and through the snow, but I don't try to struggle or move.

I can't.

The snow is actually a reprieve, since the cold offers a numbness I long for.

My eyes are nearly swollen shut. My sides scraping out soggy breaths. I'm hurting in so many places, I can't track them all.

They leave me lying on a hard stone surface against a shadowed wall. I blink, trying to see where I am, and see two soldiers laugh as they walk away, following the trail of blood I've left behind in the snow.

For several seconds, all I do is stare and breathe, but even that is difficult.

Pain is everywhere .

"Hello?" a feminine voice echoes, and I look up at the cavernous ceiling. Maybe I've died and I'm in Dronidylis's temple. If I am, she needs a new decorator. Didn't take her for someone who liked the cold.

"I said are you alright?"

"Annoying goddess," I say around a bloodied tongue.

"What?"

My eyes roll, shifting to look in the direction of the voice. Just my luck, it's not a goddess. It's a woman tied to a pillar. I'd laugh if I didn't think it would crack a rib.

"Who are you?"

"I can be anyone," I mumble.

" What ?"

Great skies, why can't I just die in peace?

"Hello?" she snaps again.

With a grunt, I force both eyes to fully open past the swell and shove myself up to a sitting position. I gasp in pain, but I think, by some miracle, my ribs aren't actually broken. It's the stone band around my back that's been snapped, and its rough edges are digging painfully into my ribs. Maybe this thing protected me a bit.

I reach up and tear one of the pieces away, though I nearly black out again at the pain it takes to move.

I'll just get the other piece…later.

My head swims for several seconds before I'm able to focus on the pillar on the other side of the room. The female tied there has pure white hair and fair skin. On the other side of the pillar is a male with a darker complexion except for a pattern of light skin around his mouth and nose. Even from here, and even with swollen eyes, I can see one very important detail about them.

Blunt ears.

"You're Oreans," I slur, body braced against the wall behind me.

"Shouldn't be that surprising, since we're in Orea ," the man retorts.

"Why were you beaten?" the woman asks.

"I was beaten?" I rasp before spitting out a glob of blood. "Huh. That explains the agonizing pain."

They stare at me. "You should see the other guys," I say, but when I try to smile, I notice that my lips are split, so it just makes them split more.

No smiling. Add that to the list right under no walking, no breathing, and no moving. That should cover it.

"So, who are you?" I ask.

"Queen Malina Colier," the woman says, and despite her disheveled and bound appearance, I believe her. There's just something regal about her. I mean, who else but a royal would be sitting up so straight while tied up? Her posture is excellent.

"An Orean royal," I muse, voice raw. I must've screamed while I was being beaten. I don't really recollect.

Heaving in as big a breath as I'm capable of, I start edging my way over to them in very, very slow increments. Inch by inch, they watch me warily while I try really hard not to pass out.

By the time I make it in front of the woman, I'm dripping sweat despite the cold, and I'm panting so hard my ribs are getting bruises on top of their bruises.

"What are you doing?" she asks sharply when I palm the dagger that's still blessedly caught up my sleeve.

Behind her, the man strains against the bindings, looking like he wants to tear free and strangle me. "Stay away from her, fae filth!" he spits.

"This one doesn't like me," I mumble before glancing at the woman. "Don't worry, I'm a Vulmi."

"What in the world does that mean?"

"It means we protect Oreans."

My fingers ache, but I manage to grip the hilt of the dagger, and then I start to saw at the thick bindings around her. It's not easy or quick, but I know I need to get them out of here, so even though every drag hurts, I grit my teeth and bear it.

Because if I can just do this one thing…then at least I won't die for nothing. At least I'll have helped, even if only a little. I didn't kill a Stone King or save thousands of Oreans, but I can set these two free and give them another chance. If I do that, the goddesses will know I tried my best. Maybe Droni can give this Orean queen a little bit of favor instead—that would be alright with me.

I saw harder and harder, eyes watering from the pain in my beaten body, but finally, the strap slices apart. The woman tears off the bindings the rest of the way and then takes the dagger from my limp hand.

Fortunately, she doesn't stab me with it. She races over to the man and gets him free next. She doesn't manage to do it any quicker than I did, so that gives me a little confidence boost, which is lovely.

When they're both free, the man comes around where I've flopped against the pillar.

"How do we get these off?" he demands, shaking his hand.

My eyes drag up to the gray cuffs around both their wrists. I saw those same cuffs on Wick and Auren. Some sort of magical cork, keeping their powers plugged up.

"I don't know," I admit before peering at them. "You two have magic? What kind?" I ask croakily.

Even though I've released them, they don't answer me. Fair enough. Even though I'm a Vulmi, I am still fae. Judging on how I found them tied up, and that our kind is invading their world, they're probably not too keen to trust me.

I notice the Orean queen doesn't give me back the dagger either. Instead, she opts to tuck it into the pocket of her pretty dress.

Good for her.

"Can't help with the cuffs, I'm afraid," I tell the man before I cough up a little blood.

That's probably not a great sign.

For some stupid reason, I start to drag myself up to my feet, though my vision blots out halfway there. I only stay upright because the woman comes over to steady me.

"Thanks," I pant out between labored breaths. I'm sweating so much my hair is stuck against my temples. "Alright, come on."

Queen Malina watches me shuffle forward a few steps. "What are you doing?"

"You need to get out of here," I say without looking back. "Right now. There's no time to waste. I'll make a distraction if I need to so that you two can get away."

"You can't even walk."

"A bit rude," I mumble before I motion them forward. I have to lean against the wall to keep myself up. It's only pure fear for them and determination to do something useful that keeps one foot moving in front of the other. I can wallow in pain after they go.

They're still moving far too slow, though. Whispering back and forth as I finally make it to the doorway.

Then a sound stops my heart. Roaring voices coming from the void.

With my head craned past the door, I look toward the bridge at where the sound is coming from. My blood runs so cold that I stiffen and stagger. Going dizzy, I fall back, landing on the floor in a painful heap that makes me gasp.

The queen crouches down to help me back up, but instead, I latch onto her wrist. "Listen to me," I say frantically. "I know I'm just a fae, but trust me when I tell you that you need to get as far away from here as you possibly can. Because what's coming down that bridge next is something you can't survive. None of you can."

Her icy blue eyes flash at my frenzied tone. "What's coming down that bridge?"

I shake my head as fear lances through my stomach and threatens to drain me out. "Death," I tell her honestly. "The fae coming next are monsters. They will pick the muscles from your bones and eat your flesh while you're still alive. They will defile everything. There will be no escaping them once they're unleashed into your world. And they're coming," I press urgently. "Right now. So you need to go!"

The queen shudders visibly, and I can see the grim expression on the man's face despite being partially obscured by his hood.

When she tries to help me up again, I shove her away. "The Stone Swords are distracted already. Go!" When she still hesitates, I harden my expression. "I'll only slow you down. Hurry up, Orean queen. Don't waste your chance."

She swallows hard, and then the man grips her by the arm and drags her out of the fortress. I watch as they run the length of the wall while my pulse beats wildly.

Only when they disappear around the corner do I let out a breath. I stay slumped in the threshold of the doorway, feeling dread for Orea and crushing failure.

I couldn't kill the king. I couldn't stop what's coming…but at least I got them away.

And maybe that will count for something.