Chapter Forty-four

Thea stared at Princess Jasira, at the shadows pouring from her fingertips, at the wraiths standing guard either side, and at the enormous rheguld reaper looming at her back.

A daughter of darkness.

A strange tingling warmth spread through Thea's chest, unnatural, uneasy…

And then, she blinked as each piece of the puzzle clicked into place. She understood.

‘Your father isn't the most powerful empath in history,' she said. ‘You are.'

Jasira looked pleased. ‘It's about time someone understood my worth. I always thought it would be you, storm wielder.'

Thea loosed a trembling breath, shadows pulsing everywhere. The battle around them slowed, and then ceased completely as Jasira reached out with black tendrils. The dark power danced around Thea, attempting to coax her magic to the surface.

Thea didn't take the bait, not yet. For there was only one reaper behind Jasira, and they needed all of them together for lightning to strike in the same place —

‘Don't you like what I've done with the place?' Jasira asked lightly, her shadows directing Thea's gaze to the fortress walls.

With a flick of her wrist, the shadows up there receded, and Thea gasped as all around the perimeter, cruel spikes were revealed…

Adorned with the heads of those who worked in the fortress.

Thea could hardly breathe as she recognised the contorted face of Thezmarr's cook, the head healer, the groundskeeper.

She wanted to look away, to unsee it all: the missing eyes, the tears of blood staining sallow cheeks, the gaping mouths, the torn-out tongues.

From above, a flaming arrow flew for Jasira, but she deflected it with a shadow as though it were some slight inconvenience.

Thea couldn't believe it, wouldn't – even as she stared at the faces she'd grown up with. Madden, the stable master, and his apprentice Evander were there, their faces frozen in horror, iron spikes visible through their open mouths.

The strangled noise that escaped Thea was more animal than human as her gaze fell upon two more familiar faces.

‘It wasn't hard to find out who mattered to you… Osiris was more than willing to question anyone and everyone,' Jasira said slowly. ‘The Dancing Alchemists dance no more – they don't have bodies for that.'

Thea's stomach bottomed out, but it wasn't until she heard the broken cry from Wren that she knew it was true.

‘Samra… Ida…' her sister whimpered at the gruesome sight of their friends' heads impaled on iron spikes.

‘Why?' Thea croaked, tearing her eyes away from Sam and Ida, focusing on Jasira instead.

But Anya came forward, staring at the weapon in her hand and then at the princess in a daze. ‘It was you…' she said, voice faint. ‘It was you wielding this scythe all those years ago. You brought the darkness down on Thezmarr. Artos framed me… to save you.'

‘I was stronger than him, even then,' Jasira told them, her shadows flickering. ‘He developed a taste for power before I was born, of course… Delmira, Naarva, all succumbing to his magic, turning on one another from within. But my father lacked imagination, and he didn't understand… For years he has been trying to break free of my control, but my power eclipsed his early on. This is my destiny. I am the Daughter of Darkness that was prophesied. I will bring the dawn of fire and blood.'

The wraiths leashed to Jasira grew restless and Thea's magic crackled beneath her skin, surging through her veins. She smelt rain in the air, and took a step closer to both her sisters, feeling their magic rolling off them as well.

Jasira smiled at the show of unity. ‘I have been waiting for this for a long time…'

The princess was no warrior, but she didn't need to be – she was the most powerful empath in history, and with one flick of her hand, she had the midrealms' forces in her thrall. Thea gaped at the horrific scene before her as shieldbearers and Guardians started to scream.

There was no need for Jasira to unleash the wraiths. She only needed to unleash herself.

Heart racing, Thea scanned their battered units, their faces etched in terror, some even turning their own blades on themselves —

‘No!' she shouted, surging for a Guardian who did exactly that. She was too late. His dagger pierced flesh and bone, blood flowing freely from the wound. He was dead in seconds.

Jasira flooded their allies with a tidal wave of unbearable emotion. Thea felt it herself, a bursting sensation in her chest, as though it were all too much and she couldn't stand the pressure of it.

With a cry, lightning shot from her fingertips, shedding Jasira's hold on her.

Thea looked to her sisters – only for the reaper at the princess' back to lunge for her. Talons ravaged her arm and she fell back, slipping in the blood on the cobbles. But with a kick of her legs, she was up on her feet again, sword raised.

‘Come on then, you piece of filth,' she hissed, twirling her blade in invitation. ‘Your heart can join all the rest I've carved out.'

She threw herself at the monster, the rest of the world fading away as she parried and sidestepped its slashing claws, as she cut through the shadows surging for her. She looked at the vile thing in disgust, the stench of it filling her nostrils. Its horns curled over its head like a ram's, its leathery skin no more than a grotesque barrier between her blade and its heart.

The creature hissed, sending a wave of onyx power for her. For a moment, she was back in the Great Rite, fighting the possessed version of Wilder, cutting through her own wrist with Malik's dagger. She was watching Wren and Cal and Kipp choke on shadow. Each assault was like a knife to the gut, threatening to take her legs out from under her.

But Thea's lightning answered her call, surging forth in brilliant white bolts, slashing through the darkness. As her magic hit the monster, she felt Jasira's magic within it – for the Daughter of Darkness was controlling the creatures with her empath abilities, feeding into their more primal emotions, but leashing them to her will all the same.

Thea blasted the reaper back, watching as Wilder leapt into the air and plunged his swords into the creature's sinewy chest, black blood spurting. With a roar, he ripped out its heart and threw it at Jasira's feet.

Around them, several wraiths disintegrated where they stood, clearly the sired kin to the reaper.

But Jasira just laughed. ‘There are plenty more where he came from, Warsword.'

‘And they'll all meet the same fate,' Thea said, squaring her shoulders.

Jasira gave a dark smile and raised her hands.

Wraiths burst from the fortress, hissing and swiping their talons at the few remaining midrealms units.

‘To me!' Thea cried. ‘Form the lines!'

Those who heard rallied to her, but Jasira turned her gaze upon Talemir Starling, her shadows coiling and ready to strike.

‘Shadow Prince,' she said, her icy tone cutting through the mayhem. ‘You've been a problem. When I'm through with you, you won't even recognise that little son of yours.'

Talemir's expression transformed into one of savage rage – and Thea watched in pure terror as he lunged for the Daughter of Darkness, leaving his side exposed.