Chapter 49

T he cavalry slammed into men, knocking them to their feet with wide-eyed disbelief. Flowing into the keep like a river of rapids, the Northern Army slashed and stabbed and pushed their way through. Dirt flung through the air as the cavalry carved a path around the sea of bodies to the fortress entrance. Trailing behind them, we stormed through the doors with new found vigor from our allies.

War calls and the dying cries of our enemies echoed through the dark chambers, filling the quiet stillness with a raging chaos. We continued further down the cavernous halls, knocking down painted wooden doors to clear each room. With Arcturas by my side, I flew through each doorway, scanning the empty spaces for the Spring Queen. Dirt and muck flung through the air as the battle outside pressed on.

A flood of northern men, shoving and trampling against the wall of our enemies, slammed into Balakros and me as we struggled to stay together. Spears lunged into abdomens, swords sliced across limbs, arrows pierced hearts. The strength of our reinforcements entirely overwhelmed the enemy, leaving them scattered and panicked as defeat closed in around them. It was utter turmoil.

Fighting monsters was one thing, but to take the life of another mortal was something else entirely. My mental log of names and faces grew exponentially. Glimpses of darkness flashed through me with each room we cleared. I pushed my rising guilt and grief back down my throat, telling myself that they were on the wrong side of history. They were the villains. My father once told me that death was inevitable in war. It was a necessary sacrifice to maintain peace and morality over the realms. But these men, these enemies, were fathers, brothers, sons, lovers.

They were just like Lytos.

Just like Aryx.

And so, with the rising guilt, the rising grief, I allowed myself to slip away. To retreat into the safety of shadow. To become the monster everyone feared. The demon shrieked with violent delight as I watched man after man fall to my blade. I was losing myself to her power. I held on to reality by a delicate thread, stretching it further and further, waiting for it to snap.

Everything fell apart when my vision went dark and I sank into the depths, only to resurface when my blade plunged into the heart of a northern soldier. The blood stain on his purple tunic expanded as he gurgled and fell limp against me.

"Oh, my Gods. I- I didn't mean to." The hilt of my blade slipped through my fingers, and the golden weapon clanked against the tiled floor as the battle erupted around us. He looked up at me with shocked eyes, his mouth gulping like a fish from water as fluids filled his lungs. I steadied him in my arms, placing pressure on his wounded abdomen.

"Stay with me. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." My hands trembled as I watched his expression fade away.

"Please," he choked. "Tell my mother I love her."

My legs turned to liquid as I held him. He was a son. Soon to be taken from his mother. Tears welled in my eyes as we lowered to the floor. He gasped and gargled, struggling to maintain consciousness.

"Please. Tell her," he whispered, his eyes rolling away.

"I'm so sorry. Stay with me. You'll get to tell her yourself."

I pushed harder against his swollen belly, hoping that if I applied more pressure, the blood now spewing from his wound would stay in his veins. His skin, although still warm, sagged against my touch and I knew it was too late. I pulled the helmet from his head, sobbing as I saw the boyish features.

He was blonde, like Aryx, with royal blue eyes now a muted shade of grey. He couldn't have been over fourteen. Forever a boy. He'd never live into adulthood, and it was all my fault. All of this was my fault. How many men would still be alive if I'd accepted my fate and stayed in that tower? If I'd just done what I was told and followed the rules? Yes, I'd rot away up there, but how many would still be here, still be breathing?

Every action has a consequence. Even the smallest, most insignificant of reaction can snowball into something far more overwhelming and destructive. I was the pebble that created this landslide. Now everything swept out from beneath me and I plunged into the darkness, unsure if I'd ever be able to claw myself back out.

I threw my head back, unable to hold in the deafening scream that now poured out of me. The sound echoed through the great hall, hurling soldiers into the air. The fighting stopped. Silence thickened the air as all the light extinguished inside me. I needed to end this. I needed to find Tethys.

Sheathing my sword, I rose to my feet. Avoiding the bodies scattered across the floor, knocked unconscious from the sheer force of my pain, Arcturas and I sprinted through the large marble arches. A grand spiral staircase twisted and turned above me. I found it fitting that this journey's end began with a staircase. Just as it started.

The stench of plumeria burned my nostrils as I climbed the spiraling tower steps. Cracked marble walls, crumbling beneath thick, green roots, stretched above, blurring at the tower's peak. I continued climbing, taking steps two at a time, until my lungs were heavy and my legs seared with fatigue. Spinning around and around and around, I pulled myself up by the staircase bannister.

The chamber in the distance didn't grow closer with each step. No matter how many times I circled the diameter of the tower walls, it remained a speck on the horizon. I felt as if I'd been climbing for hours, having traveled no distance. Something was wrong, entirely wrong. Sweat dampened my armpits, and I pushed my legs to keep going until I was on the brink of collapse.

Stopping to catch my breath, my knees gave out, and I slipped up a step, chin cracking against the hard stone. The taste of blood oozed from my mouth as I continued to pant, rubbing my aching jaw. Just as I suspected, the chamber wasn't any closer.

I inhaled deeply, trying to calm the rising panic in my chest. Maybe this was a trap? The demon drew a long, sharp claw against my mind. Begging to be set free. I closed my eyes and pressed on, limbing rapidly around and around and around. When her roars receded back into my belly, I stopped to catch my breath. This was useless. I was wasting strength and time. The longer I risked climbing, the longer I allowed Tethys to break the wards around the island.

I paused, taking a moment to think. There had to be something here. Some sign of how to reach the top. I pressed my hand against the stone and closed my eyes, breathing in the sickly floral scent. A faint pulse pushed against my outstretched palm, like a heartbeat. The tower seemed to come to life from my touch. I quieted my mind and continued to listen. It swayed beneath me, rocking with the steady inhale and exhale of my lungs.

Opening my eyes, I watched as a faint shimmer rippled across the wall beneath my palm. Running my fingers across it, my thumb caught a latch. I pulled it and the wall crumbled away, leaving an ornate white door in its place.

Its lock clicked. Of course it'd be locked. Suddenly, I was back in my prison. The splintered door at the bottom of the steps. I pulled my key from its chain and inserted it into the door handle. The metal molded around it, filling the space between its bits. The door groaned against me as I twisted the key, feeling the lock click again. It swung open.

Closing it behind me and tucking the key back into my tunic, I ran down the endless hallway, listening for any sign of life within the musty corridor. Candles flickered to life as I passed them by, ignited by my presence.

The narrow hallway eventually opened up into a blindingly bright throne room. Shielding my eyes from the early morning sun pouring in from the long, stained glass windows, my vision adjusted. Seated atop a golden throne in the shape of a clam shell was Tethys. One slender hand rested across the ornate, bejeweled arm rest. The other held a fine-tipped dagger. The edge of its blade pressed against the trembling, long neck of my nephew .