Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

Thalia

My lungs heave with the effort to drag in oxygen. I’m in a heap on the stone floor, unable to stand from the pain in every joint. It seems like it’s been hours that she’s been torturing me, but I’m so disoriented, I’m not even sure what day it is.

Ferelith hasn’t laid a hand on me, but with the power of her magic and my inability to fight her after I willingly gave up my own power through a poor choice of words, she’s made me suffer. She kicked aside the pyrite stones holding me captive and relished in her amplified power to throw me around the room where I crashed into walls and furniture.

My left shoulder is dislocated, and there are at least two broken bones in that hand.

At one point, without even moving a muscle, she beat me with something invisible that felt like punches delivered by a ham-fisted man. I’m sure my body is bruised from head to toe.

What’s most distressing of all, however, is that none of her torture has gotten me to open the spell book for her. With a shriek of frustration, she held out her hand. The knife she used to kill Archer flew toward her. She caught it easily by the hilt and stalked toward me.

I tried to scramble away, but she had me by the hair. Rather than cut my throat, however, she sliced my forearm right through my shirt.

I winced because I knew she was going to freak out when she saw my blood was black, but instead, it poured as red as the pool surrounding Archer’s body.

I was so stunned, I didn’t realize she’d grabbed hold of the wound, coated her hand with my blood, and then promptly smeared it on the book. She commanded it to open, assuming perhaps it answered only to the life force that runs through my veins, but nothing happened.

My heart sank as implications dawned. Whatever power I might possess as Amell’s daughter appears to have disappeared. Either it was temporary, or Ferelith has somehow driven it out of me with the pyrite stone circle or even when I offered my blood to save Archer. Maybe that was too humane a gesture to ever let the darkness take root within me.

Regardless, my secret relationship with Amell was protected, but I was still in for a world of pain. Ferelith screeched with fury that my life force did nothing to activate the spell book, and I took a magic kick to my ribs that had me coughing up blood.

And now I wait for more, my body nowhere near its breaking point yet.

Ferelith paces back and forth, talking to herself. Her eyes are crazed, and she waves her hands around as she debates her options out loud.

“You’re not hurting her enough,” she says, and then whirls to pace the other direction. “But she can’t lose too much blood. That has to be done in a ritual sacrifice to transfer her powers to you.” Once again she spins, doesn’t bother to glance at me. “Just burn the book. What does it matter if you know what it does?” One more pivot. “Because it could be a trick. She might have learned something from that book to thwart me.”

I lift my head from the floor, the spell book in my line of vision. The red blood on the cover seems to mock me. It speaks to my inadequacies in my refusal to fully embrace the shadows. Perhaps if I had done so, I could’ve saved Archer.

Myself.

Beyond the book lies Archer’s body. Skin pale, lifeless, his irises turning milky. Did he know what he was getting into? Or was he under her control? It hurts that I won’t know the answer—was he a pawn or a traitor?

“You haven’t made her hurt enough,” Ferelith says to herself, and next thing I know, I’m on my back, Ferelith straddling me. Her gown splits, allowing her legs to squeeze tight at my hips as her hands clutch around my throat. She squeezes with inhuman power, my airway instantly closed off. I claw at her fingers to try to pull them away, but I’m not strong enough and two of my fingers are broken.

Hovering over me, Ferelith demands, “Tell me what that spell book does. A Dark Fae gave it to you, I’m sure of it. I heard rumors one was in Clairmont. Did you know a Dark Fae taught me how to use blood magic? I’m wondering if you learned the same as me, or if you know something more from that book. Save yourself the pain, and just tell me.”

Her hands loosen, and I suck in precious air. The expression on her face is expectant, but when I stare at her in resolute silence, she chokes me again.

This time, she keeps the pressure on until my vision starts to go black. Just as I’m on the verge of passing out, she releases her grip again. Snarling at me, a tiny string of saliva escapes the corner of her mouth. “You will tell me what that book does, or I will kill you.”

“Then you can’t bleed me,” I point out, my voice raspy.

“Aaaagghhh,” she screams and slaps me so hard, bells ring in my ears.

But they don’t block out the sound of a door flying open and crashing against the stone wall.

Ferelith puts one hand on my throat to hold me in place, and I renew my efforts to tear free of her, but she’s too strong. She looks over her shoulder, and I see one of her soldiers standing there.

“How dare you interrupt me!” she yells.

The guard throws himself prostrate on the floor and quickly exclaims, “My apologies, Empress. We’re under attack.”

Ferelith’s hand falls away, and she rises off me, turning to the guard. “Get up, you idiot.”

The man scrambles to his feet, bobbing his head. I roll to the side, gasping for air but keeping my eye on the man who looks absolutely petrified.

“Empress… troops are at the south side of the city, led by Commandant Dunne. Thousands upon thousands. They’ve started breaching the walls.” The guard’s voice is trembling. “We’re outnumbered.”

“Nonsense,” Ferelith sneers with a careless wave of her hand. “Employ our Hell-Fire.”

“We have, Empress. It doesn’t work against them.”

I can’t help but smile at that news. While I’m ecstatic to hear Bastien is outside the city walls, I’m more relieved to know all the protection charms and amulets seem to be holding up against Ferelith’s magic.

“Impossible,” she scoffs.

“I swear it’s true. And they’re sending spells toward us such as we have never seen before.”

Tamping down another smile, I watch Ferelith as she frantically paces again. She chews on her lip in consternation before turning my way, walking back over.

I flinch as she drops to her knees beside me, grabs my hair, and jerks my head up to look at her. “Did you use that spell book to protect your people? Create spells? Tell me, you wretched girl.”

“You need to surrender, Ferelith,” I say softly.

Her lips peel back over her teeth, and she hisses, “Never.”

Yet, I still try to reason. “Our troops have you outnumbered five to one. We have learned much about blood magic and have neutralized your spells. You cannot hope to win.”

Ferelith smiles wickedly. “But I still have you, Thalia. As long as you are in my possession, I control the game.”

She turns to the guard and points at him. “You… release the demons. That should keep their soldiers occupied.”

“Demons?” I push up a bit and wipe hair out of my face. Blood comes away, and I grimace not at its presence, but that it’s red and useless.

Ferelith’s smile is nasty. “You may have figured a way to repel my blood magic for now, but you won’t be able to repel the thousand demons I’ve summoned from the Underworld. I’ve been stockpiling them for just such an attempt you might make to retake the city.”

Gods damn it. Amell should’ve warned me we’d face this. And he can’t claim ignorance since he knew Ferelith had summoned erchras before. He should’ve told me so I could have prepared different repellent charms and spells.

So many of my people will be slaughtered.

“Send word under white smoke to their commandant that as long as they return to whatever hovel they crawled from, I shall not harm their beloved princess.”

“Lie,” I mutter.

“Yes, a lie,” she agrees and snaps her finger at the guard who spins and runs to do her bidding. She then looks back at me. “Now… where were we?”

“Inflicting pain and torture to get me to tell you about the book,” I say sweetly, knowing that whatever I say, I’ll make it worse on myself. But at this point, I’m committed to dying rather than telling her a damn thing about that book. I can’t afford for her to get inside it and increase her power. “But let me tell you… you’re wasting your time. You should be fleeing, for your demons won’t put a dent in our forces.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” she says with a shrug. “But you’re wrong about the torture. Time might be running short, so I will bleed you now. The book can wait, but sadly, the bleeding will be painful.”

And so this is it. Where my life ends.

But I have to believe Bastien will find a way to defeat Ferelith and save Vyronas. The Clairmont line will be finished, but another of the remaining families will take over and restore peace.

I have to believe that because I don’t want my last thoughts to be of my failures to my people.