I would make them all pay. Their lives belonged to me. Under my control, the sinners would become sacrifices for the worthy.
Were these Eleos’ emotions? I bucked under the weight of his fury, of the unrelenting terror at what he’d become.
“And the assassin?” Phaedrus’s sage-green eyes narrowed. “Do you know anything about him?”
A different emotion bloomed inside my heart.Love. I felt it so deeply it ached. The sudden rush of a pleasant emotion took me off guard, and I looked up in surprise.
Warmth tucked me in its embrace, like wings folding around my shoulders. I was loved.Safe.
A grimace twisted across Phaedrus’s mouth as his fingernails dug into my skin. A cold hand reached into my chest and ripped the warm love from my heart, tearing it to shreds, leaving nothing behind but a gaping hole.
I bled out from wounds I couldn’t see, wracked by the misery of grief.
I whimpered, and it almost looked like Phaedrus took pity on me. The agony relented, patched up by bandages that did not mend my wounds, but staunched the pain. Love once again warmed my soul, like a soft caress, like a radiant sun.
This was a different kind of love. The first had been innocent. Desire surged beneath the passion—desire for her, and her alone.
A half-smile tugged at Phaedrus’ lips as he stole the warmth away again. The lacerations reopened, cutting deeper than before. Claws dug into my chest, smashing the light that had kept me alive.
Anguish overwhelmed me, and a sob burst from my lips. Gasping, I pressed a hand to my chest, where an unbearable pang tore my heart apart.
“Will you make Seth lose you, too?” Phaedrus asked.
“Stop.” I whimpered, crushed beneath the agony.
“You can make it stop, Aethra,” Phaedrus said softly. “For everyone. Bring their suffering to an end.”
The grief Seth carried with him lifted as Phaedrus dropped my hand. Catching my breath, I grabbed the mantle, trying to still my shaking legs.
“Why would I hurt them when I couldsavethem?” I said. “Maybe some yearn for release, but so many more want to live. And-”
“And if you defeat the Empty, they’ll gain the life they’re owed?” Phaedrus gazed down on me like a bird of prey. “What in your life has shown you this world deserves to be saved? Was it the crowds who shrieked and panicked, pushing the poor tainted to their deaths? Was it the officer who consorted with the Guild to murder the lord and steal his throne? Was it the father who enjoyed the pleasures of his daughter’s flesh and threw the child into the wilderness to hide the truth?”
I tried to respond, but he advanced, forcing me to back up. Grabbing my arms, he assaulted me again with his magic.
“Was it the parents mourning their children, taken young by disease? Or perhaps you thought the lords in their gilded castles deserve your pity? They who live in luxury, stealing every scrap from those they trod upon in the dirt below? Or maybe the clergy, in their endless hypocrisy, who use their station to escape their crimes?” He paused, eyes searching my face. “Your assassin has the right of it. The world chooses the status quo. Why lift a finger to help the helpless when you could look away and be blissfully ignorant of their fate?”
Every horrible emotion the world had ever felt ripped through my body. Aching hunger of a starving, dying child. The panicked throb of a man watching his love die in childbirth. The quivering hands of a parent unable to afford healing for their child.
Terror. Helplessness. Grief. The world went dark as its emotions buried me. I screamed, unable to make it stop. Pain. Hollowness. Desperation. Fury.
The spell lifted. Dragging open my eyes, I found myself curled in a ball by the fire, head buried in my arms. Shaking like a leaf, I pulled myself into a sitting position and saw Phaedrus sitting on the armchair, watching me expectantly.
“It’s cruelty.” He said. “No doctor of conscience would force a wounded man to lie in misery while he succumbs to wounds medicine cannot mend. They would close his eyes, sparing him inhumane torture.”
“What. . .” I gasped. “What made you this way?”
“My first error was love.” His eyes stared into the distance, recalling old memories. “A common woman who worked the stables. Being fools, we believed we could keep our affair hidden.”
“Did your father kill her?” I asked.
“Yes. Sent her to the Empty, as is tradition. And our child?” Phaedrus swallowed. “I barely managed to get him to the Guild before the same fate befell him.”
Something spun in my stomach, and I sat back. Could it be. . ?
“My second mistake was compassion.” He said, a hint of humor in his tone. “When my father died an untimely death, I rejoiced. With his mantle and power, I believed I could change my city for the better.” He chuckled bitterly. “You’re clever. I needn’t tell you why I failed.”
No lord would give up a cent of their treasury to feed the hungry. No lord would give away a mile of land to house the homeless. Any law Phaedrus tried to pass was doubtless thwarted by every noble who called Cynthus home.
