“I know,”he says.“And I thank you for that. It is both easier and harder to ask you, knowing you would spare me if you could. But I too have my pride, and I do not want to be slaughtered by one such as him.”The griffon turns his birdlike head and pins Baldric with a hard glare.
Baldric simply lunges forward, slashing once more. Only this time, the griffon moves smoothly across the sand, beyond Baldric’s reach.
When the griffon looks back at me, my eyes fill.
It’s not fair.
None of this is fair.
“What is your name?”he asks gently.
“Arvelle. And you?”
I can somehow sense his surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting me to return the question. As if he wasn’t expecting me to care. And I know then that this creature has been treated awfully by every human and vampire he has come into contact with.
“My name is Antigrus.”
When I glance up at the emperor, he’s frowning down at me.
“Will you help me?”
“I …”
There has to be another way. Another option. Anything.
The enforcer cracks his aetherwhip once more, and pain explodes across the back of my neck. Dizziness swamps me, blood dripping down my spine.
“There is no need for you to suffer any longer, Arvelle. There is no need for me to suffer any longer either.”
“I know.”
I’ll do this. I’ll be the one person who will give Antigrus what hewants. A dignified death. I’ll live with the knowledge that my blade put an end to this incredible, proud creature.
And at the very least, I can take pleasure in the fact that Baldric will be furious.
“I’ll do it.”
“Thank you.”
I can hear the pain in his words. And I focus on the rage clawing at me, instead of the hopelessness I want to drown in.
When I step forward, the crowd goes wild. I stalk resolutely toward Antigrus, ignoring Baldric as he slashes at him.
Antigrus’s eyes meet mine, and this time, I see hope. Hope and relief and gratitude.
It’s the hope that allows me to dodge around Baldric, slamming my shoulder into his and pushing him off-balance.
It’s the relief that allows me to ignore the agony shooting through my ankle as Baldric kicks out at me in retaliation.
And it’s the gratitude that allows me to shove my sword through Antigrus’s powerful pectoral muscles, between his ribs, and into his heart.
Blood sprays, and I barely suppress a heave, nausea choking me.
“Thank you,”Antigrus tells me once more. His face seems to glow gold, and his gaze finds my sigil, his eyes widening suddenly.“Use it well.”
Usewhatwell?
The light in his eyes goes dim, and Antigrus slumps to the sand. I know he’s not there anymore, but I want to dust off his body, take it with me, and give him a proper burial.
