I turn and swing up on Argo’s back, and we take to the sky.
There’s a perfect empty circle of untouched snow where we were standing, the rotted lines spread out from around it like the black, toxic rays of a sun. The dragon’s form takes flight beside me in a wraith-like presence, black wings spreading out to their full length for the first time.
Below, I see just how far my magic has already traveled, just how many soldiers I’ve killed. Now, it’s time to ruin their path. To stop them from their relentless pour into the rest of Orea.
Letting go of Argo’s reins, I give in to my power completely. I feel it stretch like an invisible band that goes from me to the splintered manifestation as we cut across the sky. Power builds and spreads between us, swelling throughout my body, until it reaches a crescendo.
And then the dragon opens its mouth and spews out death.
Instead of fire like the tales of old, flames of rot pour from its maw, lethal vines of rotted roots expelling from its throat. It gushes into the land below, and the ground buckles.
I watch as the sweep of pure power creates a rift of rot that utterly devastates the snowy landscape. Magic pours from me,from the dragon, and the contaminated ground disintegrates, taking every nearby soldier with it.
When the dragon finally swallows down its outpour, when its maw snaps shut, the land below is ruined. Path split, gaping open, making the way across impossible. The snow is curdled at the edges, foaming with clumps and singed brown.
Thousands of soldiers lie dead.
Unless another fae comes along with enough power and skill to repair what I’ve ruptured, then their brutal onslaught has been cut off.
For now.
With the dragon still flying beside us, I pull on Argo’s reins and head for the gilded jewel that’s clasped in the snowy mountain’s grip. But all I see when I look at Highbell’s gleaming castle walls…is Auren.
I’ve given Orea a chance, and it’s time to give Highbell one too. Because it’s what she would want. I’m no longer on a rampage of revenge. No longer fed by only torment and reckoning.
I told her I’d be the villain for her, and I was.
Now, I need to also be the hero she would want me to be.
CHAPTER 18
QUEEN MALINA
Dommik’s shadows pull away, revealingthe last Orean at his side.
“Go right in,” I tell the man reassuringly, though he sways slightly on his feet, looking discomfited from the shadow-leap. “The castle is safe and there’s food in the dining room. Everyone else is there.”
He bends, again and again, like a piece of paper being folded over, creases marking up his starved and filthy body as he bows. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” He bends again for Dommik. “Thank you, sir.”
He follows one of the other Oreans already at the threshold, and they disappear inside Highbell’s castle walls. I breathe a little easier once he’s inside.
They’re safe. They’re being fed. They’realive.
A miracle only made possible by the most vicious threat. King Rot.
I glance around at the aftermath of his presence. Of whatclearing out the castletruly meant.
The castle’s courtyard is grisly. My gaze falls to my feet, and I follow the lines spilled across the ground like unspooled threads lying thick within the snow. Fae soldiers are dead behind me, their bodies distended grotesquely, eyes melted, skin sloughed off.
The stench is unimaginable.
From the streets of the shanties, we watched as King Ravinger swooped over the mountain and rained down death. Everyone in Orea has always feared him, feared his magic, though I’d never seen it at work before now.
We were right to fear.
Even from my spot in the city below, I felt the danger that emanated from him as it pinched my stomach and raced my pulse. I couldfeelhis power rippling, even at such a distance away.
Yet what stole my breath completely was the creature tethered to him in the air. Wisps of smoke seemed to stretch between where he flew on the timberwing, to the winged creature that soared beside him. A scaled monster that reaped death.
