Chapter 26

"Iwill make you a trade," Vireena countered. "Walk away right now and I'll grant you safe passage out of the Barrens. I won't even kill your wolf and the wyvern."

"That," I said, letting my magic swirl around the Arena like a storm cloud come to life, "was the wrong thing to say to me. I might have walked away, given the only blood that's been shed so far is my own."

Indeed, it was smeared all over the polished gray surface.

"But you threatened the lives of my friends, and that I cannot allow to go unpunished. Now come out here or I will have Dane drag your arse out. I know he wants to."

The black wolf smiled, licking his lips.

She emerged from the Arena and I closed the magic off behind her. She'd get no help from her coven. We were both on unfamiliar footing, and as magic gathered at her fingertips, we each had our powers.

And one weapon.

"This is as even as it will ever get," I muttered grimly, grasping the knife tighter. "Your move."

Vireena was no longer the arrogant, assured priestess with a guaranteed victory. She'd lost all the advantages she'd taken for granted for so long. For one wild moment, I wondered if I could actually outfight her.

She hurtled through the air and tackled me, stabbing down with her knife.

I used my magic to block her, stabbing upward, only for the blade to be knocked away at the last moment by a blast of black choking power that left me gagging.

We rolled apart and began circling, something lethal settling inside me like a warm, steady weight.

I could do this. I could both make this a fair fight and win.

She came at me again, and I parried with the knife, the way Zorander had shown me, then spun away. Vireena wiped fresh blood off her side.

She attacked, I parried, her every attack growing slower, sloppier.

I used less energy shoving her away and spinning to the side, and when she came at me again, I dodged straight toward her knife hand. She was already stabbing that direction, but in the process left the side of her neck wide open.

The curved knife slid between the tendons of her throat like cutting butter, black blood spraying on the side of my face as I kept moving past her, not stopping until I was well out of knife range to spin around and face her.

Vireena clasped her hand to the side of her neck, but the blood…oh gods, the blood.

I sucked in my low gasp of horror, the High Priestess's eyes meeting mine, both of us realizing the same thing. I'd dealt her a fatal wound.

And as much as I had to win today, I hated what I'd done.

Hated taking a life, even this one.

So I forced myself to watch Vireena take her last, wheezing breath, to see the helpless horror in her eyes as she sank to her knees into a pool of her own black blood. Watched when her soul left her body and the majority of the coven heaved a collective sigh.

A few began to clap before the sound cut off.

Something heavy landed behind me, hard enough to send a shockwave through my bare feet. Reflexively, I sent a lash of magic backward, then yanked my shadows back at the last possible moment when Raziel rushed out of the darkness, his face twisted in panic.

His big hands cupped my cheeks, eyes searching mine. He didn't say a thing, just tipped his head forward until our foreheads touched, his callouses rough on my tear-slicked cheeks.

Then Raz kissed my cheeks, my closed eyes, until every tear was gone, holding me like I was the most precious thing in the world before pressing his warm palms to my chest, sending a stream of healing magic through me.

I leaned into him, drinking in his never-ending strength, and allowed my head to flop limply against his chest. "You came." I tried to stop sniffling. Couldn't. "You came."

"Of course I came. That ward is fucking miserable, I can tell you that."

I winced at the healing magic he unleashed inside me, his power stitching me back together so fast the wind ripped out of my lungs. "You were badly hurt. You've lost too much blood," he scolded softly. "Hang on, Anaria. Almost there," he murmured, magic sliding over my carved-up arm and the wound on my torso before he stepped away.

"What…" His dark eyes scanned Vireena's blood-splattered body in front of me, the snarling black wolf, and the imprisoned witches in the Arena, my mother right along with them.

His magic brushed up against mine and they danced together in a cloud of iridescent black that caught the moonlight so beautifully, the coven went silent, eyes staring up at the two of us.

"What in the fuck is going on? And where are Tristan and Tavion, because I am going to fucking kill them for leaving you."

You would think knowingnone of this was Tavion's or Tristan's fault would calm Raz down, but no, he was still as angry as before.

"I'm telling you; this was all Adele," I muttered, nodding in gratitude to the young red-haired witch who carried my clothes over to me, laying the iron bands on top almost reverently. I didn't bother putting those back on.

I still might burn this whole fucking place down.

I was still deciding, honestly.

My teeth chattered as I slid my feet inside the boots, the soles of my frozen feet stinging. I yanked my coat on, threw the hood up over my hair, and willed myself to warm up.

"She's right, Raziel." Dane had on borrowed boots and was wrapped in a rather foul-smelling cloak, but like me, he was grateful not to be freezing his arse off. "This whole thing was Adele's doing, right down to that."

All our eyes shifted over to the High Priestess, now covered in a cloak.

"Now I'm High Priestess," I said, the words sounding surreal. "I suppose that's how this works," I tacked on, hoping somebody would tell me I was mistaken.

Nobody did.

"Should we let them out?" I scanned the witches in the Arena, my mother somewhere in there with them. "They'll freeze to death if we leave them there and some of them were happy enough to see Vireena go."

"There are bound to be loyalists."

"Agreed." I blew out a frosty breath in the cold night air. "But we don't care about them."

"We don't?" Raziel's brow wrinkled.

"We don't," I said firmly. "Because we're not here to join the coven. I don't care who's in charge or who is at war with us, because once we get Tristan and Tavion free, we are leaving this fucking shitehole. We go back to Nightcairn and regroup."

"Zorander won't be here for gods know how long." Raziel winced, as if he knew he was giving me the worst news ever. "So I suggest we come up with a plan in the meantime."

"We let them freeze," Dane said with no hesitation.

While I sort of agreed, that wasn't really an option. "I say we let them go, but not until Tavion and Tristan are freed from…wherever they're locked up. Find a witch, one who has keys to the prison, and they can go with Dane to get them out."

"Then we let them freeze," Dane said firmly.

"Then we decide," I told him. "And I'm not sure you get a vote, Dane."

"You are absolutely no fun at all." But the shifter waggled his eyebrows before prowling toward the coven, managing to appear menacing even with his bare legs poking out beneath the cloak.

"I need a volunteer to open the prison cells. They will be exempt from whatever punishment your new High Priestess decides to mete out for betting against her survival, though I'm not sure how long her benevolent mood will last. You might want to hurry."

Witches rushed forward and Dane took his time choosing one of them. When he finally did, I turned to hide my smile as I opened a doorway for her to step through. "He's good at this." Dane winked as he walked by.

"A master," Raziel agreed, then he skimmed his knuckles down my cheek. "Fuck, Anaria. I knew coming here would be dangerous, but…just fuck."

"Yeah, I know. I've said the same quite a few times since we arrived. But…" I blew out a shaky breath and took in his beautiful face. "The worst is over." I tugged at his sleeve. "And there have been some…developments."

I guided him as far away from the Arena as I dared yet, even here, lowered my voice to a whisper. "Tristan is a wyvern shifter." Raziel reeled back and I caught his wrist. "There's more. He touched a skull and we both got caught in a vision. The Oracle and Corvus killed off the other three gods, the ones most associated with life-giving powers. That's the reason the magic dies off every few millennia and has to be replenished."

"What if those gods were still alive?" Raz asked curiously.

"I don't know. The magic would never run out? There would be no need for blood sacrifices…or wars."

"Men like to fight wars. I highly doubt anything—even an Old God—would ever stop them from killing each other."

"True enough, but still…Tristan is a wyvern. The very last one, according to Vireena."

"Who?" Raziel asked, his eyebrows scrunched together.

"The High Priestess." I jerked my head at the covered body. "The witch I had to fight because of this fucking mark on my arm." I frowned. "We should…bury her. She was their priestess. I'm sure they have customs."

"Anaria." Raziel threaded his fingers through mine. "I love you, I really do, but I have no idea what you are talking about."

It took me until Dane returned with a very pissed-off Tristan and Tavion to explain everything that happened these last few days, giving Raz barely enough time to inform us Zephryn was alive and recovering with Bexley and they'd managed to get on and off Darkhold with minimal injuries.

After both Tavion and Tristan gave me the once-over—twice-over, I supposed—for injuries, we surveyed the miserable witches huddled together inside the Arena.

"I say let them rot and be done with this place. Wait for a break in the weather and head back to Nightcairn."

"Your vote is duly noted, Dane." I rolled my eyes. "For the third time now. Anyone else have a suggestion besides murdering everyone?"

"If we had a truthteller, we could separate your enemies from the witches who might support your reign." Raz kept his hand on his knife. From the look on his face, I wasn't sure he wouldn't second Dane's plan.

I lifted my eyebrow. "I have no plans to reign over this place. And it's only getting colder out here, so…"

The moon was at its zenith, dusting every surface in silver light, but the howling wind never stopped. "I say we let them out then find somewhere safe to sleep tonight. I'm exhausted—we're all exhausted. We hole up in a room somewhere and take turns keeping watch until tomorrow when we can talk to some of these witches, get a better feel for what we're facing."

I met Raz's dark, doubting gaze. "From the way the coven reacted to her death, they aren't all loyal to Vireena. We could secure some allies here, Raz. That is, after all, what we came here for."

I turned to Dane. "You know these witches better than we do. Separate out Vireena's inner circle to start. We'll secure them in the prison since they were so eager to lock Tavion and Tristan down there."

Where they were going to strip them of their magic then…skin them. I couldn't repress my shiver of revulsion, or my fury at their cruelty.

"Tavion and I will take care of that," Tristan said with anticipatory glee. "I remember their faces; Dane can point out anyone else he thinks poses a danger."

"We have a few days before Zor arrives, longer before Torin and her friends come. Enough time to rest and plan our next move," Raziel murmured. "Which you have already thought about, probably for days now." Raziel's gaze swung to me. "Care to share?"

"Later. When we're alone in a secure place. Dane, do you have any idea of Stormfall's layout? I know where the throne room and the broom closet are." I gave them a wry smile.

"And I'm familiar with the prison. Don't recommend." Tristan's lips quirked upward, his eyes dancing with a mix of wicked anger.

"Let's get our enemies sorted out and locked down, then we'll take a tour." Dane stomped his boots on the ground. "I've never been beyond the common areas, but the fortress is most likely set up like Blackcastle or the Citadelle."

I dropped my magic walls around the Arena, then Tristan and Tavion separated out the witches we recognized as enemies—the guards who'd met us at the door, the ones who'd taken Tristan and Tavion to the dungeons. Dane sniffed a handful more who he said smelled aggressive, whatever that meant.

In the end, we filled ten prison cells and let the rest go free, then went to find somewhere safe for whatever remained of tonight.

Though I doubted we'd find anywhere in this cold, dank place that was truly safe.

I eyed all the endless stone, not so much as a cushion in sight.

Or comfortable.