I stand over her with my trident held ready. Alaric and Marcus both wanted me to kill her, and now I can feel a more primal need to do it too. The ferocity and bloodlust of the animals I’ve borrowed power from is flooding through me, the predatory nature of the caged beasts urging me to thrust the weapon down into Selene’s heart.
I could do it. I could end this here and now. If I kill Selene, Aetheria will never have to worry about her rising up to become its empress. Its senators won’t have to worry about her controlling their minds. Its nulls won’t have to worry about her treating them as just something to be crushed beneath her heel. I think of all the promises she’s made to kill me, and also to slay those I care about. The idea of Selene hurting Alaric or Marcus terrifies me, and that’s enough to push me over the edge.
I’m going to do it. Regardless of the consequences, regardless of the fact that I’ll have to live with it, I’m going to kill Selene Ravenscroft. Perhaps she sees the certainty of that in my face,because her strange, violet eyes fill with fresh fear. I hold the trident, ready to slay her.
That’s when I see Alaric. There’s only one of him now, and he’s fighting against two of Selene’s followers at once. Everyone else in the hallway seems to have fallen or fled, but they’re crowding him, a pair of armored, blonde haired women cutting at him from either side with slender blades. They attack Alaric with magic too, one throwing bursts of flame, the other ice, the two of them working in tandem so perfectly I know Alaric only has a second or two to live.
Can I finish Selene and then go to him? No, there’s no time. Already, they’re pressing him back against the wall, one of them lifting her blade for what I know is going to be a killing blow. I curse and throw my trident with all the force I can muster. It sails through the air, the tines of the weapon punching through the attacker’s armor with so much force the trident pins her to the wall beside Alaric.
I’m already running forward as her compatriot turns, snatching up a sword from one of the racks and throwing myself into a slide, my heart hammering in my chest not in fear, but with the bestial power of the animals I’ve taken strength from. Alaric’s attacker throws a sheet of ice at me, but it goes above my head as I slide, my weapon thrusting up through her stomach, into her heart. She stares at me for several seconds as if she can’t believe what I’ve just done, then topples to the floor of the hallway.
She isn’t the only one. The hallway is littered with bodies, both of resistance fighters and guards. Many bear the marks of Selene’s magic, suggesting that she slew them before she came into the armory after me.
I put my arm around Alaric, letting go of some of the power I’ve taken from the beasts, because it’s too dangerous to holdit any longer. Already, I can feel my flesh wanting to shift into something different, a shape bestial minds insist it should be.
“Are you all right?” I ask Alaric.
“I’m fine,” he says. “Selene?”
We turn towards the door to the armory together, which means I’m just in time to witness the moment when she destroys the net holding her, standing a little unsteadily, before raising one power filled hand.
For a second, I think Selene is going to throw that energy at us, and I tense, ready to drag Alaric out of the way. Instead, Selene blasts the wall to the armory, creating a gap through which she slips out into the night. She’s gone.
Alaric curses. “You had her. I saw the net. You had her down, Lyra, but you didn’t kill her.”
“I had to help you,” I say. “I wasn’t going to let them kill you.”
“I could have lasted a few more seconds,” Alaric insists.
But he couldn’t. Is he really prepared to sacrifice himself to see Selene dead?
“I wasn’t going to kill her,” I lie, not wanting to admit just how close I came to finishing Selene. That was animal instinct, not conscious thought. And maybe, if I say it enough, I’ll make myself believe it. “There must still be a way to stop her without that.”
“If there is, I don’t know what it is,” Alaric insists.
Nor do I, but now I stare at the bodies of the two women I killed, and horror fills me. I did this. I did it to save Alaric, but I still did this. And I was just a second away from slaying Selene.
“Come on,” Alaric says. “Selene’s gone. We need to rally with the others and get out of here.”
I let him guide me from Ironhold, slipping away into the darkness to fight another day. I have no doubt that another fight is coming. We stopped Selene’s plan today, but it will onlybe temporary. She’s out there in the night somewhere, and the thought of what she might do next terrifies me.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
The palace gardens are peaceful, save for the cries of the animals within the menagerie. I find myself thinking of the crocodile Alaric and I brought to Ironhold. It isn’t here, and nor is it back in the catacombs. We released it on our way back to the city.
I can feel the presence of the different creatures, from the graceful, beautiful peacocks to the strength of the gorilla. With the new side of my powers, I can feel another presence too, a familiar mixture of pride and determination, a need for order and a desire for advancement. I can also feel the moment when his eyes fall on me, because of the shift in those emotions. I can feel the love there, beneath the surface.
“Hello Marcus,” I say, not moving from the seat I’ve chosen, on a bench overlooking some of the formal flower beds.
“I’m glad you got back safely,” he says, moving to sit beside me and taking my hand in his. I can feel that he means that, and how much it would hurt him if something happened to me. It’s strange, being able to feel these emotions, these primal drives, in people.
“How did you get back?” I ask.
“Some of my guards insisted I leave once the fighting got too heavy,” Marcus says. “A section of wall almost crushed me. I should have stayed to keep you safe, but I couldn’t see you.”
And while Marcus played his part last night, his strength lies in politics, not direct confrontation.
“Selene survived,” I say. I don’t know yet whether to count that as a failure on my part, or a chance to find a better way. I’m not just an animal, prey to my deadliest instincts.
