“No!” I cried out.
But then Wrune was there, bounding forward into its path. The wave struck his barrier as a bubble of blood rose from theSetava Terun’slips.
“Lik Kakkari srimea tei kirtja,” he growled.
May Kakkari watch over you, he’d said.
And then with a grim expression, I watched as my husband became an executioner. His sword, the one his own father had laid next to him after his birth, the sword he was made to wield, flashed out. It cut through flesh and sinew and vein.
I didn’t watch as theSetava Terun’shead fell from her shoulders but I heard the thud of it as it rolled to the floor.
Cries from thesarkiassounded.
Wrune turned to them, his sword stretched out before him, dripping in black blood.
“Yield,” he ordered, his voice unbending. “Yield and you will be sent toDothikto answer for your crimes. Yield now or you choose death. Right here in this place that is only too hungry for it.”
No one moved. At least for a moment.
Then one by one thesarkiascircled the Dakkari female who still thrummed with power. They laid their hands on her, pressing their blood-stained palms into her flesh. Their expressions were defiant.
In that moment, I wondered about their lives and what they had been before. Where had they grown up? Where were their fathers, mothers, families?
What had led them tothis?
But as I watched, I feared I understood. Had I not also felt lost and powerless? After my father died, I thought I had no one.
And feelingconnectedwith others was better than being alone. If the witches had found me in my weakest state, if they’d promised that they could help me with my gift, would I have gone with them?
I shuddered, thinking about the possibility.
“You don’t have to do this,” I whispered, meeting the eyes of the headsarkia,who regarded me as her enemy. “Hanniva.”
She stood tall and impassive.
Then, with dread in my belly, I watched as she dragged her claw across her skin. The price that needed to be paid.
Wrune’s head inclined in answer.
“So be it,” he rasped.
Her power unleashed, quick and unexpected, fueled by the support of her coven. I cried out as I felt the raw ferocity of the strike.
And that was what it was, I realized.
It was then that I realized what her powerwas.
It was an aggressive,offensiveforce. A weapon, meant only to hurt. Like a whip, it snapped with quickness, but it retreated just as swiftly. Asword.
It was like a sword.
Yet, I was a shield.
It was myhusbandthat was the sword.
And as thesarkiastruck at Wrune, I protected him, defending against her blows as he strode closer and closer.
And together, we became a powerful thing. We became one.
