Chapter Thirty-nine

As Thea looked from Dratos to their prisoner, it all fell into place. ‘We showed our hand, let them destroy the bulk of our forces…'

‘And now they make their ultimate move,' Kipp finished for her, his expression solemn.

Wren's cold hand closed around her arm. ‘Thea… Sam and Ida… They're still at Thezmarr. So many people are. We were so worried about our numbers that we didn't – we didn't even warn them —' Her voice broke, a hand clapping over her mouth as she stared wide-eyed at Thea.

Thea's hands had gone numb. She couldn't feel them as she squeezed Wren's fingers and tried to reassure her. ‘They'll be alright. They're Dancing Alchemists, remember? They'll find a way out, they're quick on their feet.'

‘We just left them – cutting herbs, making tinctures…'

‘That's not true. They volunteered to stay, you said so yourself. They made a choice, Wren.'

‘But this… They had no idea this was coming,' she whispered.

‘And neither did we,' Thea told her, though the words tasted bitter on her tongue.

Around them, the conversation went on, with Kipp at the helm. ‘Our army is in pieces… We don't have the numbers for another battle on that scale.'

Thea's knees almost buckled. After everything they'd just been through, after winning by the skin of their teeth in Aveum, the final fight was on the horizon and they couldn't win.

Wilder's presence warmed her side as he moved close. ‘But we won't be meeting them in open battle.'

‘No,' Talemir agreed. ‘We'll be up against a damn fortress. Thezmarr was built to withstand a siege, to be a rock against which the tide breaks. They'll pick us off one by one before we even breach its walls.'

Unease twisting in her stomach, Thea dropped Wren's hands, her gaze sliding back to Artos. ‘What are the plans for the reapers at Thezmarr? What do they intend?'

Vernich made a noise of disbelief. ‘We can't believe a fucking word he says. For all we know, he could have been fucking planted here. His capture could have been part of the enemy's plan all along.'

Anya's scythe was already tracing the curve of Artos' throat. ‘Let's see what tales he tells anyway…'

The former king whimpered like a dog.

‘Well?' Thea prompted. ‘The more you tell us, the less you'll bleed… For now.'

Artos sucked in a breath, the words tumbling from his mouth in a frenzy of fear. ‘There is a ruler among their kind, a sire to many. He has called wraiths and reapers from all over the midrealms, from beyond the Veil, to gather in a single, overwhelming force.'

‘To what end?' Thea demanded, her lightning singing beneath her skin. Gods, how she'd love to unleash it now. ‘What happens when they unite as one?'

Artos stared at her. If she didn't know better, she might have thought it looked like his green eyes were swimming with regret. ‘From Thezmarr, they will launch their final assault on the midrealms. Every shadow, every ounce of power will come together as one. They mean to swallow every kingdom with total darkness. They mean to curse every living thing. Like a plague.'

Thea could see it: the sweep of shadows across the sky, blocking out the sun, smothering everything that was good in this world. It had been happening slowly and steadily for years, no matter how many monsters they slayed, no matter how hard they fought. Poison had crept into the lands, into the hearts of their people…

‘Why did you do this?' she demanded, forcing down the urge to blast him with the lightning that crackled at her fingertips, begging for an outlet. ‘Was one kingdom not enough for you?'

‘I am a mere vessel.' The former king sounded distant then, as though he were drifting back towards that churning current of emotion he'd been caught in before. ‘Long ago I had a feeling… and a voice told me that this was the way… A voice I trust told me that with darkness came a dawn of fire and blood… and that I should run towards it, not away from it. I felt the truth of those words with my power…'

A chill rushed through Thea, and the nervous glances exchanged around the cellar told her she wasn't the only one.

When the skies are blackened, in the end of days

The Veil will fall.

The tide will turn when her blade is drawn.

A dawn of fire and blood.

The prophecy had haunted the midrealms for decades, but now… now they were watching it come to pass before their very eyes. Having carried a Naarvian steel blade for years before Wilder had caught her, Thea had always doubted its validity and the way it had shaped their history, but what had once been a distant string of words was now their present, and there was no denying the power of fate.

‘How long?' she heard herself say. ‘How long do we have until the reapers finish rallying together and move against the midrealms?'

‘A matter of days.' Then, a sob broke from Artos, and he began to cry, taking great gulps of air, the sound pitiful.

Thea nudged Wren. ‘Does he need more of your potion? He's sounding like that madman again.'

But Wren shook her head. ‘He's not in a thrall or anything like that. Those tears are his own.'

It was pathetic. The man before them had ended kingdoms, had created monsters in the shadows and inflicted them upon the realm, and yet here he was… a snivelling mess. With a noise of disgust, Thea turned her back on him and addressed their company.

‘The way I see it, while we wait for our own scouts to return and report, we haven't got much choice but to take him at his word. If someone wants to keep him talking, then by all means do so. But whatever we do, I suggest we take our conversation elsewhere now.'

There was a murmur of agreement, and most of them started for the stairs, shoulders sagging in exhaustion and defeat. Though she wasn't ready to admit it, Thea felt much the same.

‘I'll stay with His Majesty,' Anya said, twirling her blade. ‘I'm sure there's a detail or two missing from his sorry story.'

Thea's heart sank. She grabbed Anya's arm. ‘If you want to dabble in revenge rather than save what's left of this world, then be my fucking guest. But maybe you should think about how you wish to leave the world… Better, for having had you in it? Or a mirror of the pain you experienced? If that is what you want your legacy to be, then so be it. Just know that it doesn't make you different. It makes you the same as all the rest.'

Anya jerked out of her grip as though burnt. ‘So fucking be it, then.'

Her sister's words landed like a closed fist to her gut, and Thea stood there, blinking, as Anya turned away from her and brandished her scythe at Artos.

‘Where were we?'

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Thea started up the stairs. She could never know the true depths of Anya's suffering, what she'd gone through because of the man in chains before her now. She had just hoped that she and Wren would be enough to pull Anya out of her own shadows, before it was too late. Thea wasn't so sure of that now.

Just as she shut the trapdoor behind her, she heard the first harrowing scream.