“I have losteveryonewho ever mattered to me,” he hissed. “I won’t lose you too.”
I opened my mouth, but his power was already slamming into me, crushing my shield as if it was made of paper. The world around me disappeared. The only thing I could feel was his hand on me.
I stared up at my father who had turned a sickly white. “Your grandfather is dead,” he said. “Our enemies have conspired all these years, chipping away at his power and turning those closest to him.”
I didn’t understand. How could grandfather be dead? He ruled the underworld.
I twitched, raising my hands to Samael’s chest. His hand clamped down harder on my shoulder.
Outside, the sound of screams assaulted our ears. My father pulled me toward a window. “Look,” he ordered. “Look at what he has done.”
Our palace was surrounded. Someone was using their power to keep my grandfather’s body high in the air, a gruesome display for all to see. His throat was cut, his eyes missing. He was old enough and strong enough that, given a chance, he could heal such injuries, but the crowd would behead him long before that happened.
Who could be powerful enough to kill him? I began to shake.
“They will do the same to me, Samael.”
“But why, father?”
“Because our enemies wish to have no challenge when they take your grandfather’s throne.” He suddenly grabbed me. “Look away.”
It was too late. My mother’s body had been raised next to my grandfather’s. My gentle mother, who tickled me, told me stories, and whispered that she loved me more than life itself.
“Take your sister.” My father pressed her into my arms. Alette was only one. She didn’t know what was happening, but even she knew it was bad. She began to cry, and my father sent her to sleep.
“You will run, Samael. You will run, and you will grow up, and when you return, you will kill your enemies and take your grandfather’s place on his throne.”
“But–”
“Look after your sister. You know where to go.”
I did. Recently, my father had begun running drills, timing me as I ran through the hidden passages within our home.
“Get to the River Styx. The ferryman will take you to Hades. He knows where to hide you.”
“Come with us.”
My father was already drawing away, his face hard. He had loved my mother more than life itself, and I knew these would be some of the last words he ever spoke. He pushed my bed to the side and opened the hidden latch, revealing the passageway. He took Alette from my arms, watched me climb down the short ladder, and then pressed a kiss to her sleeping face.
He handed her to me and began to gather his power.
“Go, Samael. And remember, you will lay waste to our enemies.”
I stared at him. “I will,” I promised. “Goodbye, father.”
“Goodbye, son.”
I ran and ran, holding my sister tightly in my arms. Alette was small but heavy, and I panted, sobbing for my mother. Long minutes later, I forced myself to wipe my tears as I cracked open the door to the dungeon, tiptoeing through the silent cell and outside.
“What did I say? I told you he’d be here.”
Hands grabbed me, ripping Alette from my arms.
“Your father truly thought you could escape? His arrogance knows no bounds.” Niyax, my grandfather’s second. He’d betrayed him.
Niyax smiled at me, pulling me toward the crowd. Soldiers surround me on all sides, hundreds, thousands of them.
I screamed, reaching for my sister. He waved a hand and one of his men dropped her on the cold ground. He lifted his sword, impaling Alette’s tiny body.
