Chapter Thirty-Eight

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

NOT ENOUGH

T here was blood everywhere. Streets, shop doors, storefront windows. Blood lined the cobblestones as it dripped through the grates, like a murderous micro-canal network. Like a wave of terror and punishment had doused the city by the hand of an angry god. I wondered if we had angered the gods.

It took until noon the following day to climb our way out of the arena. There was a reason the competitors entered via free fall—it was faster. Much faster. The spiral path that lined the Convallis stretched out in a never-ending ascent. Even with Leiya scouting in her falcon form, guiding us bit by bit to ensure we didn’t run into any surprise threats, I was drained. Emotionally, physically, and even magically. I’d spent a fair bit of my power on not only erupting the Earth but keeping myself from teetering over the brink of death after a near-fatal shot to the neck. So, my portal was weak and limited to a very short distance. We portaled in bursts, Fayzien doubling back for Cobal since we could only portal one passenger at a time. After my portal sputtered so violently Fayzien thought I would get lost in the in-between, we decided to walk the rest of the way.

Ezren had accepted my plan, though he made a valiant effort to protest at first. Severely weakened after sharing his lifeblood, he’d agreed to go with Cobal to the docks to find Sanah, Dane, and Leuffen, and attempt to secure passage from Viribrum should the city be lost indeed. Leiya and I would sneak into the palace, seeking survivors. I could only pray Gia hid among them.

If anything went wrong, Leiya could fly out undetected for help. Ezren grumbled at the logic, and my heart seized at the idea of letting the warrior go so soon after seeing him again, but he consented in the end.

Xinlan and Fayzien stayed quiet. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they formulated their own plans, independent of ours. We were allies of convenience rather than allegiance. But one thing became clear—the Manibu would not be able to leave without searching for his queen.

Before we parted ways, the six of us camped in the forest. The sounds of the wood became so reduced it was as if the animals and faeries knew what tore through their kingdom and had gone into hiding. We had only the eerie silence to comfort us, and the far-off smell of smoke. If it came from the Convallis alone, I couldn’t tell.

We’d regroup at sundown, by a city cargo entrance Leiya knew about. Should there be a way to take back the city, to save its inhabitants, we’d formulate a plan then. If not… well, we’d get to that.

Valfalla was quiet, too, not unlike the wood. Where I had expected to hear screaming, only the whisper of death lingered in the air. The fighting must have been swift and brutal for the city to have fallen in less than two days. Bodies—whole and very much not—lined the paths. I hadn’t known what to expect, but it was horrific. And even more strangely, there were no Drakkarian soldiers in sight.

“Where are they?” I whispered to myself.

A woman curled up in a ball raised her head from her forearms. I hadn’t even seen her—she was partially hidden by the shadows of the alleyway and covered in filth. “In the palace, m’lady,” she said back, her voice weakened, but not empty. “I heard their orders—to take their prizes only from the palace.”

My stomach curled. Prizes . I knew what that meant in the context of war. I pressed my nails into the heels of my palms, willing my eyes to stay dry, willing the contents of my stomach to stay put.

I knelt down next to the huddled figure. “Did you hear anything else?” I asked her gently. “Orders for soldiers to be stationed certain places or to look for… specific targets?”

Her tired eyes met mine. “Yes, m’lady. I mean, I didn’t hear no stationing orders. But there was one in charge. He said that if the Princess of Nebbiolo was found, she was to be brought to the main hall alive. But everyone else was to take the blade. I think—” she choked a sob back. “I think the king may be…” She dipped her head. A moment later, she looked up towards the palace gates. I squinted, and eventually my eyes focused on something I hoped wasn’t truly there. I swore under my breath. If I had to guess, we were looking at a severed head on a spike.

I swallowed. “You have to leave this place, do you understand? Run as far west as you can bear. There should be other Fae, Faeries even, hiding deep within the forest.”

She nodded.

I stood, making to turn but cast a glance backwards. “What is your name?”

“Gemilane, m’lady,” she responded. She blinked at me, some fire returning to what had been a gaze of fragility a moment before.

“Be strong, Gemilane. We all need to be. For the sake of Viribrum.”

My plan wasn’t terribly original. It hinged on my guess that at least some of the Drakkarian soldiers would have fallen in the invasion. We’d need only to find two of our size, with relatively intact uniforms.

For that reason, we agreed I would not attempt to portal directly into the palace—nor did Leiya shift and fly in her falcon form. We darted back and forth between alleyways, hiding behind pillars, searching for the right disguises. We had seen some wisps of black capes on the outer balcony of the palace—Drakkarian soldiers patrolling the entrance below them. Hidden from view, we couldn't count their exact number, but at least a hundred guarded the perimeter.

We continued to move in stealth, checking around corners for fallen Drakkarians—but had no luck. It seemed the Witch soldiers were precise about cleaning up their dead. I almost suggested pivoting plans when we came across an abandoned building near the palace gates. “En here,” Leiya motioned downwards to a cellar opening, shaded from any watchtower view by a faded purple awning.

The Fae warrior heaved up the solid wood door and we slid through the opening, easing it shut with a near silent click. I chewed the inside of my cheek, remembering when I’d last been in a storage cellar below ground. That passage led me to find my mother at the hands of her murderer. I didn’t want to imagine what I’d find at the end of the passage this time.

We came upon a stone wall and Leiya pushed a brick in. The wall opened up in front of her, revealing a dark labyrinth ahead. The light peeking in from the cellar wouldn’t go far. She grabbed a dead torch from the wall and extended it towards me.

I took it from her, assuming she wanted me to carry it.

“Why’re ye staren ‘a me, like ye’ve been thumped en the head, too many a’ time?” she hissed.

“What do you want me to do with this?” I asked.

“Light et, ye fool! We dinna have time—aren’t ye a Fire Wetch now?”

I looked at the torch, unsure of how to proceed. I could feel no existing flame, no magic already called. I didn’t know how to summon fire that didn’t exist. When I called the Earth, I could already feel its presence.

Leiya let out an exasperated sigh and went back into the cellar, returning with two flints before I could think to follow her. She struck them over the torch, grumbling, and then the oil caught.

We moved through the tunnels at a pace that had me jogging to keep up. “I hate to point out the obvious here, but we still haven’t found any uniforms to borrow from… disposed Drakkarians,” I whisper-shouted.

“Ye thenk? We’re jest gonna have te take them from the, er, less willing,” she shot back.

“Maybe we should just portal,” I grumbled—the idea of facing another Drakkarian in combat didn’t fall high on my list. “I’m recovered enough—I shouldn’t be at risk of the in-between, not at this distance. We can stay out of sight.”

“Ye don’t know what’ll be waiten’ en the other side of a portal, ye daft fool. I know these routes akin te the back a’ me hand. Yer plan es good. We’ll go tru the servants’ quarters, an’ listen te the other side. Where do ye thenk she’ll be?”

She meant Olea, no doubt understanding the innocent maid would be my priority. While Cas would have returned to defend his home, he couldn’t be my focus. He was likely either already captured, or dead, Leiya had said, when we debated the strategy of searching for survivors. Fayzien shuddered at the comment— I had the feeling his motivations for joining us in the return to Viribrum extended beyond just finding the queen. He’d opted to go in alone, given he was skilled enough to portal right into a broom closet, and seemed to be used to working solo. I bit the inside of my cheek harder, willing the distraction away.

“Servants’ quarters, most likely. Unless… she went back to my chamber. I told her if anything went wrong, to take the ring I left under my floorboards. I meant for her to take it in case I didn’t return, so she could care for herself… but, I suppose she could have thought I meant to guard it during an attack.” My lips formed a silent curse. “I don’t know if she would have fled right away or not.”

“How loyal was she te ye?” Leiya asked, her voice still quiet.

“Very, I think.” The words caught in my throat.

“Then she probably went back fer what ye promised her.”

I nodded, more to myself than Leiya. “I stayed in the crown’s wing, the east.”

Leiya’s head of fire-red hair reflected the torchlight. “Alright, Lassie. Keep yer knives raised and yer ears open.”

As soon as the passage neared the castle, we could hear them—shouting, reveling, looting. The merriment of soldiers carried through the palace’s grates into our subterranean route. There must have been thousands roaming the halls, searching for their rewards.

Leiya’s Fae ears pressed into the stone wall, one I knew would move on a hinge with the right pressure into a hidden brick. I’d seen passages like this before, had used them myself when I visited…

Jana . My vision blurred, and my throat tightened. I’d barely known the woman, and yet… it was my fault she?—

A shriek from the other side of the wall shook me from my spiral. It was female.

“Foul Drakkarian felth,” Leiya muttered. “Thes—oh thes well be fun.”

She pushed through the secret opening, and the door swung as if on an axle. Her hearing must have been incredible, for the timing was exact, and the door collided with a Drakkarian. But she continued pushing with a warrior’s strength and unnatural speed. Before he could make a sound of surprise, the stone door crushed him, connecting with the adjoining wall and obliterating his skull.

I could see little of it other than the spray of blood and brain that escaped from the space between the two. I blinked, and then my head snapped toward another noise. A servant girl—her hair and blouse disheveled but otherwise unharmed stood in the middle of the dressing room. Leiya must have gotten us to the East Wing, but we weren’t in my chambers.

“Know any cleanin’ spells, lassie?” Leiya gestured towards the mess before dragging the body behind a dressing screen.

I swallowed the bile creeping up my throat. “Emundare.” The gore on the stone wall and wooden floor evaporated.

“Can ye mind thes door?” Leiya asked the girl. “From the other side? Only open ef ye hear three quick knocks en a row. Ef we find others, we’ll send ‘em here. The passage leads outside a’ the palace.”

The girl sniffled, still gaping at us, but said nothing as she nodded furiously.

“Give us a few hours te direct others yer way. If we don’t return by then—make a run fer et. Et’ll be dark; shouldna be too much trouble to get outta the city unnoticed.”

I gave her a smile of encouragement and she hid behind the secret door, Leiya pushing it back into place. I went to the dead Drakkarian and removed his cloak, averting my eyes from his smashed face. Blood stained the cloak, but mercifully, most had painted the wall rather than the fabric.

Leiya took it, fastening the dark cloak around her neck in one fluid motion. “Stay here,” she growled.

I made to protest, but again, she’d already gone. Though my pulse hammered my throat, I froze, as still as a statue, waiting with a knife, ready. I didn’t have to stand at attention long—less than two minutes later she crept into the room, another Drakkarian cloak in hand.

“Now, though every bone en me body es screamen fer a fight w’ these fuckers, let’s try te stay unnoticed, hey?”

We wove through the hallways, keeping our heads down and our pace measured. Occasionally, we lifted our eyes to check for survivors, but we encountered only a few warriors in this part of the palace—and they were either too drunk or high on celebration and spoils to notice us.

I prayed Olea would be there, hidden in my quarters, unharmed. She will be . The gods cannot be this cruel.

Minutes later, I pushed through the wooden doors of my chamber, Leiya flanking me.

The room looked exactly as I’d left it when I walked out in my Sk?l uniform just days before. My bed was made, undisturbed, the curtains drawn, late afternoon light streaming in.

But something felt off. I couldn’t place it. “Olea?” I called softly.

No answer.

“Something isn’t right,” I murmured.

I rounded the bed, continuing to survey the room. And as I did, my boot caught on a heavy obstacle.

A fat Drakkarian soldier lay face down on the ground, his body no longer obscured by the massive four poster. His trousers were down around his ankles and his breathing labored. To my eternal horror, beneath him lay Olea, lifeless eyes trained on the ceiling, a ring of black and blue bruises circling her neck, and a dribble of dark blood seeping from her mouth.

The world went silent.

And then it was very, very loud.

“You foul BASTARD!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my head buzzing with a rage that made any logical thought inaccessible. I flipped the warrior off Olea, bunching his cloak in one hand, and struck his ugly tattooed face before his dazed eyes could even widen in surprise.

Crack went his nose. Blood trickled. Not enough.

Crack again. This time he screamed for help, and struggled to get free. More blood oozed.

Not enough.

Crack again. “ Terra,” Leiya urged, and my gaze dragged to her. I’d forgotten she was there. I’d forgotten where I was, really. I only knew that in my hands I held the enemy, and perhaps pure evil itself.

I then saw why Leiya tried to get my attention. One by one, Drakkarian soldiers rushed into the room, until nearly ten of them filled it. They beheld the sight for a moment as if weighing whether the old soldier merited saving.

Bile rose in my throat, and I dropped my grip on him. Leiya’s hand twitched towards her blade, but she did not dare move.

“Princess?” one of them spoke, his dark eyes gleaming, his tongue rolling over his lips. He made a step towards us, but I didn’t care. I only looked back at my friend and imagined how cruel her last minutes were. I trembled violently. Time froze around me. I let out another cry, a wail that shook the Earth holding together the walls of the palace. The warrior paused and looked at me, genuinely confused.

“Why her ?” I cried. “Why?” I pleaded with the gods. Why, why did their cruelty have no end? First, my mother, my father, my brothers. Then Jana. Then Olea. Death seemed to follow me wherever I went, having no mercy on the innocent souls who couldn’t defend themselves against the havoc that trailed my path. The Drakkarian in the arena said it himself—they came for me.

Would Gia be next? Was she already gone?

My fault. My fault. My fault.

He made another step towards us, and said, “A serving maid? Why do you care? She is nothing.”

I was a volcano, bubbling with a veritable magma flow of emotion that would wreak havoc on anyone or anything in its path.