Snarling, the lion paced behind us, ready to pounce should I try to escape.
Through our mental bonds, I reached for the men below.
“If you want your revenge, Seth. Take it now.”
23
Seth
Cold wind tore through my cloak, fanning the flames raging in the windows above. Balancing on the edge of the roof, I overlooked the fort, finding the third-floor window where I’d make my grand entrance.
Yanking my dagger from my belt, I twisted it behind my back and slit the skin between my shoulder blades. As blood poured from the wound, it coalesced into a pair of scarlet wings.
Seraphim made this look so bloody easy, like she’d flown through windows countless times before. Backing up, I shook off my nerves.
Mother’s symbol had been wings, angelic and protective. I could hardly inherit her title if I couldn’t even fly.
Raking my dagger across my palm, I ran to the edge and jumped. Razor-sharp feathers took shape as the wings beat powerfully through the air, carrying me over the walls and up. Someone shouted below me, but that was fine.
For once, I wanted to be seen.
Drawing a sword from my bleeding hand, I pointed it towardthe window before slamming into the glass. Shards scattered around my boots as I landed in the hall.
Bloody flame wrapped the chamber across from me. Men fled the room—both to escape the fire and the terrifying woman who wielded it.
One burst from the arch—a Hades Knight in black armor. Lifting my blade, I met his advance, driving my sword through his shoulder. Taken off guard, he lost balance, and I threw him to the ground—a non-fatal injury.
Our task here was not to kill. Witnesses needed to survive to spread word of who had attacked them.
I heard the sound of steel being drawn and whirled around. A Hades Knight emerged from the stairwell and drew his dagger, throwing it across the corridor toward my head. Ducking, I felt it scrape the top of my hair before it clanged into the stone wall behind me.
A guard in golden armor and silver robes emerged behind him—the target I was supposed to knock flat.
I hoped Aethra knew what she was doing, tasking Eleos and me with putting on a show like this.
Frankly, I was more surprised she trusted me not to hurt her precious scholar.
Eleos’ voice rang in my head. “Try not to hit my right arm.”
Grinning, I threw my sword at the Hades Knight before drawing a spear from my bleeding palm. The shortsword arced over the knight’s head as he sidestepped the attack. Hoisting his spear, the knight prepared to charge, but faltered, gaze darting between the scarlet wings folded on my back and the feathered circlet on my brow.
I couldn’t see his face behind his black vulture helm, but I read his motions clearly.
He recognized me—and Ma’at’s symbols.
Eleos flew toward me in his hesitance. Reaching out, the Hades Knight tried to stop him. “Wait!”
Twirling the spear, I ducked under Eleos’ lance before crashing into his side, throwing him against the wall.
“Sorry about this,” I thought to him.
“No, you’re not,” he thought back.
Slamming the bottom of my lance into his side, I hooked the tip around his neck and threw him to the ground. Looking up, I met the gaze of the remaining knight.
He was our witness, the one who’d seen me attack the Oracle’s men. He needed to live.
Lowering his spear, the knight backed up. Had Father ordered them not to harm me?
