Soul (Chaos #1)

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

I awoke cold and stiff. I saw trees and leaves, and a trail of sunlight drifting between them.

My memories returned in a flood. I started to sit up, but something held me down. I looked over my body and saw nothing restraining me, so I tried again. There were some kind of invisible shackles on my wrists and ankles, holding me to a stone altar.

"Hush, little one," Sorcha cooed behind me.

"Let me go!"

"I have to protect him. If you don't die, we'll never be free of you. I admit I underestimated you."

I closed my eyes and wished she would go away. Maybe a tree could fall on her head or something, anything so she wasn't near me while I couldn't move to get away.

"It'll be over soon," she said. "My god doesn't need a sacrifice to be willing, and he's far more generous with power."

I continued to struggle. I knew I could never beat her magic, but instinct wouldn't let me stop fighting. "What are you doing?"

"Ensuring things go as they should. He'll be king soon, his power restored, and I can cut your throat, knowing it won't affect his position. Spilling your blood will bless his reign, and spilling royal blood..." She shivered.

I glared at her. "What are you waiting for? I've already done the witness thing."

"Until the crown is on his head, anyone can ask to hear from you again. It's their right. It's unlikely to happen, but I'm not taking any chances. The second he has his power, you and your solitary faery are dead."

"You're a total psycho," I said and looked away from her.

"No!" She wrapped her fingers around my neck. "I'm doing what I have to for my sisters, even for my king. Everything was going perfectly until that idiot solitary faery hung around, all because of you. That never happens, never! And I just know everyone thinks it was my magic, that my spell wasn't powerful enough, but it was. If I had known Drake was related to Sadler, I would have killed him there and then! But this is your fault, too. You helped keep him here, and he weakens Brendan. When Brendan admitted he was going to free you, free you before the ceremony, I knew he was lost. I had to do something. No more!"

"You don't have to do this," I said. "He'll be pissed that you went behind his back."

She laughed harshly. "I can deal with him. I haven't waited all this time just for a human to move the pieces in the opposite direction. I've suffered for him, waited in the dark, too ugly to look at, my powers weakened. My sisters and I are no longer feared or revered. Where is the justice in that? I put him back on that throne, and he'll do what I say." She raised her dagger. "Your blood will make sure of that. You'll do this one last great thing, true child."

The black cat leapt onto my legs as a grey blur jumped at Sorcha. She knocked Grim away in a rage. He fell and didn't get back up. Realtín screamed and flew at Sorcha's face. She scratched at the banshee's eyes, while Bekind tried to free my hands.

Sorcha cut her hand with the dagger and shouted a few words. Bekind and Realtín were both frozen in some kind of bubble. Sorcha gripped the dagger and leaned over me.

"Stop this!" Brendan yelled. "It's not right."

Tears streamed down Sorcha's cheeks. "It's always been this way!" She brought down the dagger.

I squeezed my eyes shut. The pain never came.

I felt grass under my feet and opened my eyes. I was standing in a garden with Drake, his eyes violet and clear.