‘You fucking bitch!’ he roars, grabbing a fistful of my hair and slamming me towards the dirt. Stars explode in my vision, but I push on, raking my nails across his face, then driving my elbow into his throat. As he coughs and wheezes, I scramble on top of him, hammering endless blows into his skull. Each strike drives him further into the ground. He is nothing to me, nothing but a bully someone should have put down years ago.
‘I may be a cockroach,’ I hiss through gritted teeth as I punch again and again. ‘But you’re no more than a tick, a foul creature that spreads disease and ruin wherever it goes. No more.’
His grip weakens and I see the flicker of doubt in his eyes before I wrench free, staggering to my feet. The gate looms just behind him, its stone frame littered with broken rocks. My hand closes around one – heavy, jagged, perfect. I have him pinned to the ground. All it will take is a couple of strikes and he’ll be done.
As my weight holds him down, his eyes meet mine. There is no belittlement in them now. No snide condescension or malice. There’s nothing but fear. Fear that this is his end.
Is it? I look at my hand as though surprised to find the rock in my grasp. Can I do it? Can I take a life for a life? I want to. Gods know, for Llin I want to. And yet … I lower my hand. I am better than this. Better than him.
‘You need to leave here,’ I say, the rock still in my palm as I stand and allow him to wriggle free. ‘If I see you again, I will kill you.’
‘Yes … yes …’ he mutters, shuffling backward on the ground. ‘Of course.’
Adrenaline continues to surge through my veins. My hands are trembling. Hands that nearly killed a man in vengeance. Unable to lay my eyes on the snivelling Holden for a second longer, I turn back to look at my friends, only for Jonas to cry out, ‘Rose! Watch out!’
I spin back to find Holden on his knees, the sword in his hand with the hilt pressed against his stomach, ready to thrust it up and out into me. There is no time to think.
I let the jagged rock fly free from my hand, hurling it straight towards his head.
The crack of the rock against his skull resonates through the air andhis eyes momentarily widen before a thick trickle of blood weaves its way down his face. A moment later, he falls to the ground. Dead. I killed him.
I wanted to show mercy, to be better than him, but he took that path from me. He gave me no choice.
‘Rose? Oh Gods. Rose, what have you done?’
The voice, full of horror and disbelief, is like a vice around my chest. I turn to face her. To face the pain of her condemnation. And yet … it is just a flicker. There is already too much hurt within me for it to even properly register.
‘What have you done?’ my sister whispers again as she stares at me. Her eyes are the same green as my own, and yet they look as though they are staring at a stranger.
I twist back to look at Holden. See the blood pooling on the ground beneath him.
‘Delivered justice,’ I reply, my throat tight.
‘Kultavaris did so at my command,’ Kyor announces loudly. ‘Holden was a traitor who wilfully killed one of Etta’s blessed Rettlings. He is with Mortidem now. May his judgement be swift.’
As Kay drops her hands to her knees and folds in half, Jonas hurries to her side. ‘Don’t look, Acacia. You don’t need to see this.’ He puts his arm around her and wordlessly leads her away, and she lets him without even looking back.
My sister is horrified at me,byme. Did she think I was surviving the Retterheld by pressing flowers and practising needlepoint?
I straighten my shoulders. Everything I do, I do for my sister. But this? This I did for Llinos.
Chapter 56
Idon’t think about the blood on my gown or the grazes on my skin as Kyor and I return to the ballroom to retrieve Llin’s body. I’m sickened, but unsurprised, to find the party is back in full swing. Korvane and his sycophants continue to drink and laugh while music floats through the air, as if one of the kindest people I’ve ever met hasn’t just returned her powers to Mortidem.
Three balls. Two deaths. Two people lost that I respected and cared for greatly. These soirees are proving as deadly as the trials themselves.
My gaze sweeps the room, and I find that Benny has carried Llinos over to a corner and placed her down on a couch with her head resting on Caroline’s lap. Neither of them look up at us as we approach.
‘Benny, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.’
‘Is he dead?’ Benny asks, still focused on Llin.
‘Very,’ I reply.
He closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath. ‘Then that’ll have to do.’ A moment later, he finally shifts his gaze from Llinos and looks at Kyor instead. ‘On the island, we burn our people at sea,’ he says. ‘Is that something you can make happen here? I know she was a Rettling but?—’
‘This wasn’t a Retterheld death,’ Kyor interrupts. ‘She was a noble of the Eastern Isles and deserves a proper burial. I will see to it now.’
