* * *
Mathis hadn’t made it down to her cell yet. I could tell by the shock in her eyes of seeing me so soon after my departure. Could she smell Iri’s touch on my skin? Would that make her even more mad?
Guards stand at attention on either side of the cage. They bustle at the speed of my incoming fury just like the guards at the top and bottom of the stairs. Urgency pushes me forward till I feel like a tornado sweeping through the building. And I want to wreck Aisha Joveth in my wake.
“It’s the water, isn’t it?” My voice is surprisingly calm. The realization of her actions settling into my bones feels like the truth. Honestly, how I couldn’t have come to the conclusion earlier is beyond me.
Aisha’s lips tilt in a lazy smile. “Of course it’s the fucking water.” She says the words slowly like time no longer matters to her, and a soft chuckle escapes her lips before she continues. “Goddess, you’re such a stupid fish cunt.”
Metal feels cool and smooth under my fingertips as I run my hands over the tall cell bars separating us. Each finger drums loudly like the ticking of a clock nearing its end.
“Why?” I run the other hand over the bars. “Why poison the entire kingdom?”
Every soft thud of my fingers echoes in the tick of her face. Thud. She blinks. Thud. She crinkles her nose. Thud. Her jaw clenches. Thud. Her head cocks to the side.
“Stop,” she quietly hisses, her shackles rattling against the table as her fisted hands pound against it. “Some things...” She closes her eyes, straightening her shoulders to regain her poise. “Some things are more divine than revenge, Syren. Some things are bigger than you and me.”
“Bigger than the entire kingdom?” I hum. My body almost feels cold and too still now. The frenzy that had carried me from Iri’s bedroom to the feet of a monster fizzling out along the way.
Aisha trails her attention from me to the space behind me that remains empty. Has her mind really become a never-ending loop of distraction poised around the King?
“He isn’t with me.”
Because he is trying to fix your mess. We split like wood being parted with an ax, flying in separate directions, propelled by momentum from the hit we just took. Iri is meeting with his advisors as we speak. Aside from a certain someone’s father, that is. They would soon have confirmation about how so many people have died and are still dying.
Hoofbeats pound outside, the sound of a calvary. Messengers. Iri is readying them. People will have to stop drinking the water, bathing in it, and using it to clean their homes. They are unknowingly spreading the poison around.
Aisha’s face falls, shadows cast over her downturned face. In the darkness, her skin looks almost green.
“All that noise you hear outside, that is the sound of people fixing your mistakes. We’ll find out the truth.” I wrap my hands around two bars, pressing my face against them. “Or you could tell me now. I could persuade the court to give you a lesser punishment.” No. I won’t. “Right now, as it stands, you’ll have a very public, bloody execution. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
Teeth rake against her lower lip, keeping it from trembling. “I would hate to bloody my dress.”
“It’s a bit dirty but a fine dress,” I murmur, waiting.
Then she clamps her lips shut, holding back her vicious, cutting smile. “But it’s so much fun to see the color drain from your face while you run around like a chicken with no head.” Her shoulders shake with laughter, and I send a prayer to Goddess Nature or Goddess Celeste, whoever happens to be listening, that her head shakes right off her shoulders.
I don’t need to wait here for an answer. Not when I can find the truth out for myself.
I won’t waste another second on Aisha Joveth, not while people are still suffering.
Fuck that bitch.
12
Fixing Failures
Syren
Having a mating bond can be really convenient. Bear waits for me, his hair curling oddly at the ends from the time he spent running his hands through it over and over again. He hadn’t been tired when I left him, but the news has brought some sort of exhaustion heavy down on his features. Dark circles sit under his somber brown eyes.
The royal carriage sits, the horses idle as the driver strokes their long snouts. As if in answer to our urgency, the wind whips through the air. Embers from the pile rise up and die in the melting snow around it. Black clouds gather in the sky. The air is thick with humidity from the oncoming storm.
We need to get to that fountain.
“This fountain wouldn’t happen to have an off switch by chance, would it?”
Bear swings my cloak over my shoulders, shaking his head. “It’s not that easy.”
