Mainet shoved himself away from the body of Lachish. With the crystal athame, he cut into her, separating the bloody heart, lungs, and, now, other organs. From somewhere, Eli began to fire into Mainet. Blood splattered out, healed over instantly. Mainet paused and flicked his fingers at a sooty column. Power wrapped around the column and hit behind. A form fell back.
Eli dropped, landed in the dark. The Heir’s flick of power like a battering ram. Eli’s pain was a mass of broken flesh, matching mine. Reflecting mine.
I called on the crown for more healing. I was getting a feel for it now and directed some of the Dark Queen’s power to my brother through the bonding of our souls. I felt him stabilize and, together, we both sat upright, breathing.
I started to twitch the power back to myself. Saw. Sawhim.
Behind Ka was the slumped body of Bruiser. Not breathing. Blood everywhere.
Fear shocked through me, an electrified pain.
I reached for my healing power again. Shoved it at Bruiser. Thrust it with all my might. But there was no soul bond. No way to reach him. Just like in the visions. My soul screamed.
Mainet returned to his work. As he cut, I called on Beast’s strength. Wrenched on my crown, hauled up everything I had left. If I could touch Bruiser, I could, possibly, transfer the healing. Brute was suddenly standing at my side, legs braced. I placed a bloody hand on his back at his shoulders and began to drag myself up, taking my weight on my one good leg, trying to take in air with tiny breaths, knowing it wasn’t enough. Pain sliced all through me like knives coated with lightning, so that I couldn’t tell where the pain actually came from. It was everywhere.
Brute edged closer until I was between him and the wall, leaning on the wall near Yr upright, the sign of life, a parody in this awful place.
Molly and her husband still sang a harmony of strident notes,“Anam! Bri! Bua an tsaoil!”like a call to war and a claiming of life all at once. Notes rising.“Anam! Bri! Bua an tsaoil! Anam! Bri! Bua an tsaoil! Anam! Bri! Bua an tsaoil!”
Hayyel sang with them, his voice rising above theirs. Drawing on their magic, sharing his with them and with their working. An earth witch, an air witch, and a chained angel.
Their magics seemed to separate and fray as they reached Mainet, dissipating into nothing.
Lachish gurgled, trying to draw breath. Mainet cut the last of the organs free from her.
Now. Now. I had to move now.I hopped a step.
I felt Eli, sharing his energy with me. Taking my pain.
The air in his lungs pressed out of my brother. Leaving him breathless. Unable to inhale.Stupid man.Stupid to share his life force with me.Stupid.
But his heart still beat, and I’d not let his gift go to waste.
My one good leg took my weight.
Ka’s head rolled away. Dead at last. Aya moved upright, clearly in pain, and held his only weapon by thepointed tip. He flipped the hilt against his lower arm. And threw.
The Heir didn’t even notice. The blade stopped inches from him and tumbled to the floor.
Mainet stuffed the severed organs of Joses Santana into his own chest.
As if with a will of their own, they shoved their veins and arteries into him. His body still a gaping wound, he roared with power. He turned to the vision of Hayyel.
Lachish managed a breath. She might have only two more in her.
Now,I thought.This moment.
Holding the Mughal blade in an awkward three-fingered half grip, I dropped the Glob into my armor at my neck. With the same hand, I tore the crucifix away from my flesh, leaving a bleeding cross-shaped wound where it had adhered to me. Grown into me.
Pushing off with my one good leg, I scooted my foot back and forth, moving forward. Brute walked with me, taking my weight. Toward Mainet. Toward the brazier still flickering with flames. Toward the dying body of Lachish. Hoping I could save her. Hoping I wasn’t too late.
Stretching out one hand, I collapsed forward.
Released the crucifix, watching it fall into Lachish’s open body cavity. As it dropped, I noted that it was covered in my blood and bits of pelt. My blood splattered from my fingers. Some landed into the cavity of her chest. Onto the floor. Into the flame on the brazier. The flame that had been feeding the image of Hayyel licked high, as if I had thrown gasoline onto it.
With my other hand, I flipped the blade into a proper grip, still falling. Extending my arms, I wrapped myself around him.
I/we landed beside the brazier. Hard. The Heir’s body beneath mine. My broken leg twisted. My ribs giving out. The pain splintering, fragmenting, crushing.
