As Hazel mulled that over, she came to a realization that pissed her off. “You mean to tell me you can jump to wherever you please, and yet when Agnes and my father were in grave danger we had to fly and take Philip?”
Slaide turned, looking as though he wouldn’t waste his time responding to her. “No, smart ass. If you’d paid attention at all, you wouldn’t dare ask me something like that. I would lay my life on the line for that horse. You think I wanted to ride him that hard? To run him down unfamiliar roads at night, where he could easily break a leg? We did that foryou. Trust me, if I could have jumped there through a rift I would have. But I’d never been to Agnes’s cottage. So it wasn’t an option.”
Hazel thought she was beginning to understand how this rift jumping thing worked, but it only made her stomach revolt more to ponder it.
She watched Slaide as he looked out over the horizon. They were atop a grassy knoll, a line of trees to their backs that thickened into dense forest. He stood at the highest point of the hill and looked out over the world, surveying the fallout.
Something had his attention, so she climbed up beside him.
A tower of heavy black smoke billowed into the sky, ash and embers falling like snow. She could hear echoes of shouts here and there, and there might have been someone screaming. But nothing indicated that what she heard was Agnes herself. There was no agony in the voices, just fear.
As she watched in horror, a column of flame shot into the air, rising above the ramparts and licking the sky. She could hear its roaring intensity even from their position.Holy gods…
The flames devoured themselves, giving way to something else entirely.
Aphoenix. A phoenix made of fire.
Hazel thought she heard shouts from the awestruck spectators.
It spread its wings as wide as the courtyard itself, tilted its head back, and bellowed another jet of flame into the sky.
With a blood-curdling screech, the phoenix exploded into a ball of light, energy, and flame, shooting millions of scorching embers in a radius wider than the castle itself.
Those shouts of awe turned into screams of terror. Though she could not see from where they were, she had to assume fire was catching and beginning to spread through the courtyard and beyond.
Hazel watched in a gut-curdling mix of sadness and horror. The eruption of that phoenix could mean only one thing.
Agnes was gone.
She wanted to scream and cry, but the tears wouldn’t come with the adrenaline coursing through her body after witnessing the chaos Agnes had started. She’d sparked a flame.
A revolution.
AMBUSH
As the chaos unfolded, Hazel heard the initial booms before the entire world shook as though it might break in two.
The accompanying shockwave rattled them, causing Hazel to grab Slaide’s upper arm to steady herself.
From their vantage point on the hill, Hazel watched the eastern wing of the castle collapse into itself, leaving a cloud of dust and smoke in its wake. The sight stole her breath.
Slaide and his bandits were behind the destruction. He’d blown it all to Hel, just as he promised.
But when she looked up at him, Slaide didn’t appear proud of what he’d done. A frown, deep and contemplating, marred his face.
“You did that,” Hazel remarked with a smile in her voice.
He looked down as though he’d forgotten she was standing there. “Yep.”
“What’s wrong? I would have expected you to celebrate destroying those cells and everything they’re associated with.”
He stared out over the smoke-filled horizon again. “It’s not something to celebrate. There’s a good chance innocent people got wrapped up in those blasts, not to mention the aftermath. That’s the cost of what we’re doing, but…”
Hazel laid her hand on his arm. “Thank you.”
His head snapped to hers. “The little witch is thanking menow? For what, exactly?”
What could she say? She should be thanking him for everything. For the way he hadn’t given up on her, even when she gave up on herself. For refusing to let her die. For saving her from Oswald. She shuddered at the thought.
