We rushed toward the wall. There was no further attempt at cautious motion, because there were no cautious moves left. There was no cover between the forest and the wall, leaving us with the sole option of darting forward and wondering how long it would take before the cameras spotted us. Our goal was to make it all the way up the wall before the crew members reached their battle stations. Even that was a tall order, as the wall was probably three stories high, enough to kill any one of us if we fell.
Pausing at the base, Flint and Briamy huddled close to me while I drew Obsidarian’s black dagger. I closed my eyes, picturing the dagger as an extension of my arm. Magic pooled beneath the surface of my palm, and I carefully let some flow into the dagger, focusing on keeping the heat within the blade, stopping it from bursting into flames. I opened my eyes slowly, smiling when I saw the black blade was white hot. I swung my arm to stab the dagger into the wall, but the dagger bent against the stone, the metal made malleable by the heat.
I heard a siren from within the camp, and swore as I bent the dagger to its original shape and pulled my magic from it, back into my hand. Glaring at the stone I had designed to be impenetrable, I let the heat build in my hands, again forcing the magic to remain within my skin. Flint and Briamy were forced to back away, their faces shining with sweat from the heat my hands were emitting. I reached forward and touched the wall, my hand turning the stone soft. I scooped a handful of the black stone out of the wall and tossed it to the side, watching as it scorched the grass it landed on.
I reached above my first indentation and scooped out a second, beaming at the progress.
“Wait a moment for it to cool,” I instructed. “Then follow me up.”
I set my foot in the first hollow and carved out another niche. When I moved my second foot up I carved out the fourth indentation, and was completely off the ground, perched in the hollows of my handhold ladder. My movements were slow, taking too long to scoop out each handhold and toss the molten mass away without hitting my friend and student. I also managed to warp most of the hollows, seeing as my stabilizing hand was still hot while I tried to scoop out each indentation.
I was halfway up when the others followed me, gingerly touching the places my hands had been. The siren had stopped, and I could hear no further activity from within the camp. I vaulted over the top and began climbing down, my legs dangling as I carved out my handholds. My muscles were shaking when I reached the ground; and that was the first wall. We still had two to go.
Halfway up the second wall, the fog hit. Not an easy, sort of able to be seen through fog, or the kind that gradually rolls in with the mornings. This was a wall of mist, rushing toward us the way sandstorms always appear in the movies. I flinched when it touched me, listening to the hiss of steam rising from my hands as the rest of my body was soaked to the skin.
“What was that?” Flint asked from somewhere below me.
“Fog,” Briamy stated.
A muffled roar of male voices sounded from far off and to the left.
“Storm,” I answered.
“I don’t see any lightning!” he protested.
“Tempest Storm,” I explained. “He can create water, and it’s never been foggy here before.”
The roar sounded again.
“He’s attacking,” I finished. “Let’s keep moving.”
It was quiet when we reached the top of the second wall. My heart pounded, goose bumps spreading across skin as I attempted to see through the fog. We should have been stopped by now, even with Storm’s crew.
Maybe they’re busy, Briamy thought in an attempt to soothe me.
Tempest Storm’s a joke, I thought back. This is wrong.
The wall rumbled beneath our feet, and as we struggled to keep our balance, wheeling our arms and trying not to go near the edge, I saw the arrow pass me. My shirt fluttered from its closeness, but it missed me.
It hit Briamy instead.
High in the right shoulder, the force of the arrow sent her stepping backward on the still trembling wall. As her foot slipped over the edge she reached for me, her fingers outstretched in an effort to catch my hand. I moved too slow, lunging forward in time for my fingertips to brush hers.
Briamy fell.
Out of my sight within a second, I wasn’t aware of the strangled cry that left my throat as I kneeled at the edge of the wall. My muscles seized up, and I stayed there, frozen, my eyes wide as I stared at the place in the fog where she had disappeared. I was acutely aware as my heart slowed in shock and sped up as panic began to set in. I called to her frantically in my mind, desperate to hear even the faintest thought. I turned to climb down after her, believing that maybe she had survived, that maybe if I got her to Narasia she could be saved. A second arrow whistled past me.
Flint yanked me back up onto the wall, draping his body over mine protectively as he tried to get me to look at him. I struggled, eyes fixed on the point where my handholds led to Briamy’s resting place. Flint gave up, pressing my face between his hands and forcing me to look in his eyes.
“You can’t save her,” he said gently.
I continued to struggle, fighting to shake my head from his grasp. Flint growled and changed tactics, leaning in close and glaring at me before speaking again.
“Mourn her later Flame,” he hissed. “If you don’t move we will both be dead. She wouldn’t want that for you. We are here for a reason. Remember that reason; remember why we are here Flame.”
Reality snapped back into place, I quit moving, feeling the blaze of unbridled anger wash the pain to the back of my mind. My arms trembled, despite the peace that the anger brought with it.
“Where’d the arrow come from?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm.
Flint smiled slightly, but didn’t need to answer. Yet another arrow was shot, its tip ricocheting off the stone wall inches from my face. The metal tip’s impact sent up sparks from its impact. Flint flinched, scooting back off of me, but I grinned, turning in the direction that the arrow had come from as I climbed to my feet.
“There’s only one archer on Mají-jalio’s crew,” I said smugly. “You’re dead Rhapson.”
I heard the archer snicker through the fog. “Last time was a fluke Queen of Thieves, by the time you manage to climb halfway down your wall your body will look like one of my archery targets, and that’s before you turn to dust. You won’t make it to the ground alive.”
“Good thing I wasn’t trying to make it to the ground,” I countered.
I stared at the space beside the wall, the fog that separated the archer and me. I thought back to when Obsidarian had given me mint in training, how, undisciplined and inexperienced as I was; I had created fire solid enough to stand on. I flared fire in my palms, flexing my fingers and watching as the flames grew and shrunk in response. My fire was steady, barely wavering under my control. It was quivering within me, attentive, ready. I exhaled slowly, surrendering myself to the magic, feeling the tingling rush that meant the tips of my hair had turned scarlet once more.
A stream of fire burst from my hand, steadily paving a path from my wall to the next. I stepped onto the fire without hesitating, laughing darkly as I crossed the gap on a bridge of solidified fire. Rhapson sent another arrow in my direction, but a flick of my wrist turned it to ash before it came close. I kept my hands ablaze when my feet touched the blackened stone of the final wall, walking slowly toward the archer. He notched another arrow to his bow, backing away carefully while keeping his arrow pointed at my heart. I continued to advance, closing the distance between us with a few strides.
“Do you really think that’s going to stop me?” I asked coldly.
I grabbed his hands, forcing him to drop the weapon as I looked at the bindings on his hands. He wore gold as his color, in addition to the crimson and black that all of Mají’s crew members wore.
“A bit ironic really,” I said softly. “That you, a mutineer, was allowed to keep a place on the crew, while I was cast out for nothing.”
My fire moved from my hands to his, searing both the bindings and the flesh underneath. Rhapson screamed his eyes wide with horror as he watched his hands bubble and melt. I could not find it in my heart to pity him, though I found no pleasure in his screaming. I kneeled beside the archer on the narrow wall, knowing he was in too much pain to be a threat. I drew Obsidarian’s dagger and leaned in close, clamping my other hand over his mouth as I brought my face level to his.
“You made a mistake when you missed me Rhapson,” I explained calmly. “You see, I made a promise to Briamy, to the girl you killed beside me. Of course, you didn’t know that, no one did, but I promised her that I would kill whatever idiot killed her.”
Rhapson froze in fear, as if the severity of the situation had only just dawned on him. I think he would have protested, begged for his life if my hand hadn’t been silencing him.
“I’m glad we have an understanding,” I said softly.
I snaked my right arm behind his neck, reaching around from the back to slit his throat. His lifeblood sprayed across my face, uncomfortably warm in a way my fire never was. Emotionless, I slid him off the wall and sheathed my blade, watching as Rhapson turned to dark green dust before he fell three feet.
I turned around to find Flint less than ten feet behind me, lying on his stomach and vomiting over the side of the wall. When he had emptied his stomach he glanced up at me, the normally playful spark of youth gone, replaced by the horror of witnessing death.
“I made a promise to Briamy,” I repeated. “And I would have done the same for you.”
“You… you enjoyed it,” he said hollowly.
“I did what I had to,” I corrected. “Let’s move,”
The wall trembled slightly beneath us, and when it stopped a chorus of cheers came from across the yard. The fog cleared as quickly as it had appeared, and Flint and I could see again. A gaping hole had been blown in the far wall, the stone had been broken inward, and the grass of the yard was soaked. Pieces of the wall had been blown all the way to the base of the tower in the center of the yard. Tempest Storm’s men were clambering over the rubble and into the yard, cheering as they went. Fame and a handful of my former crewmates were already standing ready to fight the invaders, snarling as they drew their weapons and lunged for the enemy crew.
The rest of the crew, led by Jumé-falio and his twin swords, popped out of a small door in the tower, went around the structure, and sprang into battle to join their crewmates and fight against the more numerous crew. The King of Pirates was not among them. And without him, they were easily outnumbered three to one by Storm’s men. Nonetheless, they were handling themselves well, only having difficulty in containing the other crew. They were slowly being driven back, unscathed but being steered around by their opponents.
“We have to go now,” I urged Flint. “Before they make it back here to the door, we have to get through.”
“I don’t think I can come with you any further,” he said softly. “I’ll only slow you down, look.”
He gestured to his feet, which were bright red and beginning to blister on the bottom.
“You followed me across?” I asked incredulously.
“I know,” he sighed. “I’m an idiot. I thought I could handle it if I ran fast enough.”
“I’m more surprised that you didn’t fall through,” I admitted.
“I still can’t go with you,” he said. “Not with my feet all burned like this.”
I nodded, turning away and retrieving Rhapson’s bow and arrows.
“Use these,” I said. “Cover the door the best you can from Storm’s men, and do what you can not to get yourself killed.”
“Same to you” he said solemnly. “And you may want to consider looking for a ladder of some sort around here Flame; the archer had to get up here somehow.”
I nodded in agreement before turning away and setting off along the wall in search for the way down. I found one directly across from the door in the tower, though it looked like Rhapson had kicked it down after climbing up. I sighed and began to heat my hands again, mentally trying to measure how much magic I had left after the stunt with the fire bridge. I still had enough for a fight with Mají, as long as I used it sparingly and didn’t try anything crazy like building a blade from the stuff.
Obsidarian came out from the door to the tower, alone. Instead of joining the fray, he waved to me and ran over to the wall, setting the ladder back up against the wall so I could climb down. I hesitated, but climbed down to join my former mentor.
“I saw you from the first cannon tier,” he explained. “I’m happy you came back Piratess, the captain’s been acting absolutely nuts. One minute he’s calling for your pile of dust to be brought to him so he can dance on it and the next he’s offering obscene amounts of gold for your safe return. We can use your help with the fight too. Did you see how Storm’s crew got in? He blasted right through the stone! I had heard that Tempest had water powers, but I didn’t know he could knock down stone with them. It was like a busted fire hydrant and an industrial pressure washer had a baby, and that’s what came out of the man’s palm. I’ve never seen anything like it. Come help me with Karius, I know you’ve been waiting all year to get a chance to kill him Piratess. I’d love the honor of helping you do that, the filthy mutineer deserves to die, I don’t care if Captain says we’re not to kill them.”
“I’m not here for Karius,” I said slowly. “And I have faith in this crew Obsidarian, you guys will be fine. Let me go to Mají.”
“Of course,” he agreed.
I smiled nervously at the pirate, relieved that I wasn’t going to have to fight my former mentor. I didn’t have a doubt in my mind that I would have lost. But before I could make it more than a few steps away Obsidarian came after me, stopping me with a hand on my shoulder.
“Flame,” he said slowly. “I just wanted to let you know, that on the off chance anything… crazy happens, that I’ll stand by you, no matter what the captain says. I know you never did anything to deserve being thrown out like that.”
This time it was a warm smile that crossed my face before Obsidarian let me go a second time. I darted across the yard and through the door into the tower, groaning internally as I saw the spiral of stairs that led to the top of the tower. The last thing I wanted was to run up a dozen stories to waste all of my energy in getting to Mají-jalio. Not when Jumé-falio could have put an elevator in the stupid tower. But knowing Jumé, it was probably intentional, deliberately left out so people like couldn’t arrive fresh to the fight. So I jogged up the steps, around and around as I wound my way upwards.
Stepping into the room at the top, seeing Mají-jalio with his back to me, a new wave of energy swept through me. The pain I had felt from his betrayal rushed back in the form of frigid anger. I drew the queenblade and walked to the center of the room, staring at my former captain while he stared at the wall of screens before him. Different images were shown on each screen, frozen in some cases, live feed in others, easily discerned because they were all battle videos.
“Took you long enough,” he finally said, not bothering to turn to face me. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“And you knew I was coming… how?” I asked.
He laughed dryly, “I know you Gittoran Flame. I know you would not die without a better explanation for what I did to you, you’ve never given off the air as being one of those girls who would die of a broken heart.”
“Probably helped that I’m the only girl crazy enough to stand up to you,” I growled, beginning to pace slowly behind him, each turn bringing me a half a step closer to his back.
“I’ve had my suspicions that you were her,” he confirmed. “I thought it was wishful thinking, but you see, there were no rumors about you that used the word “love”. I’ve heard what Carnie’s crew thinks of you, they think you’re too strong to love. And seeing as there are no other women… I knew you were finally coming for me. And here you are. But tell me Gittoran Scarlet, is it true?”
“Is what true?” I said, reflecting the question to him, my anger quickly fading to nervous fear.
He finally turned to face me, a smirk plastered on his face.
“That you love me of course,” he said smugly.
“I… I...”I stuttered, searching frantically for a witty answer.
“It is!” he said triumphantly. “That’s why you took it so personally.”
“No,” I denied, heart quivering as he advanced.
“Your eyes give a different answer,” he breathed. “Is that why you came back?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again when Mají stepped too close. I scrambled backward, holding the queenblade out in warning.
“What?” he laughed. “Are you going to hurt me? You can’t, you love me, we both know it. Is that why you came all this way? Left the comfort of your hiding place? You may be Queen of Thieves, and yes, I have heard whispers that there are many who believe you may be the Griffon’s Child. But I know the truth Scarlet. I know that you are a tag-a-long wench who overstepped her place in this world. You have advanced only under my protection, and flourished when none opposed you. Have you truly become so self-righteous that you believe you can kill the King of Pirates? Or did you come back to beg for your place by my side, knowing that no other would take you?”
My lips curled up into a snarl, my anger returned, and when I spoke my voice was low and dangerous. “You betrayed me Mají-jalio Rose. I trusted you, and you used me for my magic. Don’t think that I didn’t notice I was dismissed right after I built your defense system? You played me for a fool, toying with my heart, luring me in with your stories and understanding. You think I came back because I want that again? No. I came back to make you pay for your lies. I came back to kill the tag-a-long the Griffon was fool enough to make King of Pirates.”
We lunged simultaneously, the kingblade ringing against the queenblade as we danced out of reach of one another, beginning to circle as we hunted for a new opening. I kept my eyes on him, drawing Obsidarian’s dagger, still stained with Rhapson’s blood, with my left hand. Mají and I circled for what felt like hours, though in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. We were mirror images of each other, left step, right step, left step back, left step forward again, we moved in unison, our eyes never looking away for an instant. We were poised and ready, mentally testing out the other person’s posture and defense, searching for the weak points that did not exist. We would have circled all day if needed be, a pair of infinitely patient cobras coiled to strike.
Eventually my frustration boiled through the discipline I was holding on my stance. I knew I would tire first in the stalemate, and I was eager to kill him. I knew Mají-jalio would not attack first. I began to jockey back and first, bouncing on my toes like an overenthusiastic boxer, acutely aware that I was presenting a full target by turning to face him. But he wouldn’t take the bait. Finally I lunged. He parried my blade easily and slashed at my shoulder. I brought my dagger up and caught the swing on the guard of the little weapon, the impact sending shockwaves down my arm and to my shoulder. I tried again to strike with the queenblade, trying and failing to keep his kingblade tangled with my dagger long enough for me to land a hit.
We went at it again and again, trying to slice each other to ribbons with no results. It felt more like a choreographed dance than a real fight. There was a rhythm to the movements, a song to be found as our blades met again and again with a clash of steel. Our feet leapt nimbly to the music our weapons rang out. I danced in and out of his range, weaving in to strike and out to parry.
I could feel myself beginning to tire, my muscles beginning to remember all that I had already demanded of my body today. Yet instead of slowing down I pushed harder, reaching within myself for my magic. I coaxed it out slowly, unable to stand and focus as I always had in the past while my mind was occupied as the tip of the kingblade sought my throat. When it reached my fingertips I pushed it farther, leaping backward as I stoked the fire of my magic and let my blade burn with white hot fire. Mají was forced to shield his eyes, stumbling while blinded.
I was on him in an instant, drawing back Obsidarian’s dagger, now seeped in my magic, to plunge into his heart. His eyes blazed defiance as I funneled all of my strength into the blow. I swung my arm down, but the instant the tip of the blade touched flesh it shattered. Shards of steel shredded my arms and peppered my face. I cried out and jumped back in pain and shock. Mají-jalio stood up coolly, casually removing the shirt that had been reduced to tatters by the fragments of Obsidarian’s dagger.
A triangular stone hung at his throat, the same one I had given him when I had pledged my loyalty to him and received my stiletto blade. Mají grinned at me, grabbing the stone and flipping it over. Tied to the back of it, invisible to the observer, was another triangular stone, this one mesmerizing and glittering, one that was the color of fresh blood.
Mají-jalio had the blood diamond.
“You had it?!” I screeched. “You had it this whole time and still sent everyone around looking for the damn thing?!”
“Not the whole time,” he corrected, sheathing the kingblade. “I found it while you were busy learning to breath underwater in Tempest Storm’s camp. That dolt of a rogue, the one who can’t talk right to save his miserable life, he had it, can you believe it? He had it amongst a bunch of useless rocks and trinkets.”
“You picked it up when he dropped his things,” I whispered in disbelief. “You offered to help him and stole it when he wasn’t looking.”
Mají nodded, grinning at my answer. “Very good Scarlet, but it is mine now, useful don’t you think? I got your blood when I slashed your palm to make the defense system.”
I shrieked in outrage, my temper flaring my magic. I sent a burst of fire in Mají’s direction, and he laughed as scorched the stone behind him but left him untouched. I snarled in frustration and sent a second burst, and a third, mindlessly trying to blast him out of existence, ignoring that while each attack was fiercer than the last that he was never affected. Billows of black smoke clouded around him, yet he was unscathed and unshaken.
“It is a charm that renders the wearer untouchable by a single person’s magic” Mají explained calmly, as if this was the first time I had heard of the blood diamond. “It is able to be taken off only by the wearer and is able to absorb power from the person whose blood it holds, turning the magic on its master… It’s my turn now Gittoran Flame.”
Mají held the blood diamond with one hand, stretching out his other as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. After a second he murmured “fire”. A blast I had just sent toward him rocketed toward me, blasting me backward and into the wall of screens he had been staring at earlier. I crumpled to the ground, scared to move as fragments of glass rained down on me. The room was spinning, Mají’s hand a blur as he summoned a second ball of my flame.
“Fire,” he said again.
I clumsily scrambled a few feet away, the shot missing by inches, the heat from the fire singing my skin. I struggled to recover from the original blow, trying to throw up a fire shield to counter the fire he was throwing at me. His fire was stronger; blowing through my pitiful defense like it hadn’t even been there. I hit the wall this time, hissing in pain as I attempted to climb to my feet to continue my flight from the fire I once owned. But Mají-jalio was relentless, I was given no rest. My skin was blistered and bubbling; every movement was an agonizing torment. He used the fire blasts to chase me around the room; each stumbling movement of mine was an attempt to recover from the previous blast. I had no opportunity to even think of attacking, only escape. Eventually I tripped, fell, and gave up.
I knew I was going to die. I accepted it, because I knew that once a person begins to hallucinate that their fate was inevitable. And I was definitely hallucinating, watching my dead best friend edge into the room with her finger to her lips.
“Kill me already” I groaned. “You’ve had your fun. What more do you want?”
Mají-jalio’s onslaught paused at my request. “Kill you?” he echoed. “Now why would I do that? I prefer you to live, but you did try to kill me, and that forced my hand. Now I will make you suffer until you relent and beg for me to let you return to my side, though you will not be in the crew.”
I snarled from my place on the floor, outraged even through the pain that he thought I would even consider his offer.
“I’d rather die!” I yelled.
“Not to mention,” he said, ignoring my outburst. “That in the conclave you did accuse me of killing you with your own flame. I would hate to prove you a liar.”
“So you’re enjoying this?” I accused. “Watching me write in pain? Was there ever any truth behind that affection? Or was it a scam from the beginning?”
Keep going Gittoran. Distract him as long as you can, keep his hands off that diamond, and buy yourself time to think.
I nodded miserably, acknowledging the crazy voice that I was creating within my mind to sound like Briamy. It made sense unfortunately. Every minute he spent talking was a minute I wasn’t back in Effugere.
“You dare speak of affection?” he hissed. “You came here with the singular intent of killing me without further explanation did you not? And you claim to have loved me?”
“Love,” I sighed. “It’s not a switch I can turn off at will. But I won’t let that addle my judgement. You dismissed me, cut through my colors, threw me out for no real reason, and now you have the gall to ask me to beg to come back? You can lie to yourself all you want Mají-jalio Rose, but I’m never coming back.”
That’s a bit harsh, the voice said. But it’s true…. And if you were looking for an opening to attack him, it would be now.
I sprang into action, forcing myself to get up and move toward my former captain. Mají took a half step toward me, then whirled about and drew the kingblade against a different assailant. The struggle was brief, and before I could completely cross the room a sharp cry of pain met my ears.
Mají turned back to face me, the kingblade’s tip dripping blood onto the stone. I moved to try to spar with him, but before I either of us could attack a small hand, scarlet and sticky with fresh blood, snaked around his neck and grabbed the blood diamond. He turned again and I sidestepped, finally seeing his attacker.
The scene was to forever be burned into my memory. Briamy was clinging stubbornly to the diamond, her hands drenched in her own blood, even more blood pouring from a gaping hole in her stomach. She yanked on the cord, trying to snap it. A flash of fire erupted from the blood diamond as my stolen magic was returned to my body while the blood diamond drank its all too eager new offering. Mají screamed with rage and tore a new gash in Briamy’s chest. Her soft eyes looked at me for a moment, apology in her expression before the look hardened and she turned back to Mají-jalio.
“Never trust a pirate,” she gasped.
She plunged her dagger, the red-hilted dagger I had given her, into her new wound and attacked the blood diamond with it. It shattered under the attack, the fragments of the diamond drawn to the source of the blood, Briamy’s chest. Briamy crumpled to the flour, blood pooling around her for a full minute before she burst into golden dust.
Briamy died.
I had watched my best friend die, twice, in a single day. I stood there, frozen, my anger at Mají-jalio forgotten in my shock.
Mají backed away for a moment, watching me cautiously. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
When I didn’t respond he came over and stood behind me, linking his arms around my shoulders in a loose sort of embrace.
“The charm that can be only destroyed by a blood sacrifice,” I said numbly. “Briamy… she was trying to die… for me. Mají… Mají you killed her.”
I tore out of his grasp, my chest heaving as I realized what had happened.
“You killed her,” I repeated. “You, Mají-jalio, you killed my best friend.”
I could hear my promise, echoing in my memory as if it had occurred hours ago instead of months.
“I’ll do whatever I have to,” I said. “I promise you, Briamy, I’ll keep you safe.”
“What if you aren’t there?” She had whispered, frightened. “What if he decides I’m a threat and kills me?”
“He won’t kill you,” I had assured her.
“But what if he does?” She insisted.
“I will kill him.”
I looked around for a weapon, taking a few seconds to remember that I had never sheathed the queenblade. I brandished the dirk at Mají, but didn’t move to advance. I felt… lost. I knew what had to be done, I had promised.
Mají tossed his bloody kingblade to the side, fumbling to also cast away his rapier and a few knives, leaving only a solitary dagger at the small of his back.
“Gittoran,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen, any of this. I wasn’t after her, I know she’s never hurt anyone, she was good. It was an accident, bloodlust from our fight. But don’t you see? She died so we could be together, so we didn’t have to fight anymore Gittoran. She could see what we couldn’t, that we can’t function without one another. She died so neither of us would have to die. Don’t let that be in vain. We don’t have to fight anymore. We can be us, the Queen of Thieves and King of Pirates, rule the game together. We can walk away from this together, all you have to do is put your queenblade down. I swear I have an explanation for my betrayal, though now… now isn’t the best time for it. I have an explanation, because trust me, doing that to you, it killed me inside. You have to believe me. Please… forgive me, I’m begging you.”
I tried to be resilient, I did, but when I met his eyes, those black eyes echoed what he had said. My hand shook as I struggled to keep the queenblade pointed at him. I knew it would be simple to run back to him, to forget and forgive. It would be a dream come true. I watched as my arm lowered slightly, as if the decision was being made without my consent.
“All you have to do is give in,” he urged. “I don’t want to hurt you… I love you Gittoran Scarlet, Gittoran Flame Scarlet.”
The queenblade clattered against the stone when I dropped it. Mají rushed to me, holding me tight against him. I tried to keep my mind blank, to do nothing but revel in his scent and the warmth of his arms around me, despite my burns and the blood pouring from the scratches I was covered in. He apologized again and again, promising that everything would be o.k. now that we were together. I tried to believe him, but nothing worked against the tidal wave of memory that singularly possessed my thoughts. I wrapped my arms around him as well, grasping the hilt of the dagger at the back of his belt.
“Mají,” I whispered. “Mají-jalio Rose…. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he breathed.
I smiled softly, pressing my face into his shirt as tears began to slide down my cheeks.
I slipped the dagger between his ribs.