The Heirs of Death

44.1 Warsong

Mar feel to the ground, rolling to the side as blood gushed over my face, my clothes, the carpeted floor. But it was already too late.

No amount of speed could get her up fast enough to block my attack. They went into her neck, each claw as long as a short sword but by far stronger than hers could every be. Deeper, I dug my hand deeper in her, cutting up to her eyes and brain with one hand, the other diving straight into her chest. Into her heart.

It wasn't beating far before I pulled my hands out of her, far before she went through the door. Even her blood didn't contain a lick of warmth.

She'd been dead even before coming up to this room.

Another thunder swallowed the world, barreling like a titan's fists on the ceiling. And the darkness-that bit of Apocalys's essence-curled out of the sentinel's body, thinning until it vanished.

I remained standing for long over the torn body, waiting for any sign, anything to tell this fight wasn't over yet. But nothing, not a flicker. He was still too weak, still incomplete.

I wasn't sure if seconds had passed or hours before I felt Leon's arms gently enclosing around me, sustaining the legs that threatened to buckle down at any moment. My head rested on his arm but I didn't dare close my eyes, didn't dare take a too loud breath.

But my husband didn't wait like I did before he squeezed my shoulders and stepped back, leaving space for the other to stand at my sides. Before he picked his sword and lowered it so many times on Mar's corpse that she was nothing more than parts of bones and flesh and clothes.

I would've winced before, would've probably doubled over and vomited in my place if I had seen this a few months ago. But now...there was nothing. Not a nudge of sensations. Only clean sharpness as the blade sang each time it met bones and steel.

Not a sliver of magic came out. And even the howling winds and darkness outside didn't sound so loud anymore.

It left me wondering why he didn't bother with anyone of my court, if he truly wasn't aware of my mate and brother, of all the powers combined in this room.

It left me wondering if he knew that I would come to his own house, if all of this was nothing more than a trap. The thought didn't sound so absurd after all that I discovered recently.

Sédil's hands squeezed my arm gently, unbothered by the blood and the scent staining her fingers as she slowly rubbed circles going up and down.

"He knows.''

It wasn't really a question, I knew that, but I still nodded in confirmation, wishing I could tell her otherwise.

"Do you think he'll tell him?"

Him-Blake.

"No.'' Pain prickled in my throat as I got the word out. But it was the dull sort of it, the kind that would take a few minutes before vanishing as the might of my powers forged the broken bones back together.

"He doesn't have that much strength yet to communicate,'' I added, observing as Aedis put his sword aside, attention still on Apocalys's puppet ."We would have been dead already otherwise.''

We remained silent afterwards for a long moment before I stepped back and it was enough to make them disperse, to give me room to breathe.