The Spryrix bent down and took Stanlus’s head in his mouth, popping it off like the head of a daisy and spitting it across the battle lines.
Stanlus might have been full of shit, but there was no doubting the psychopathic glee on his face during his little deathbed confession. “We need to go.”
I whistled loudly, and Lierick and Zier both looked over from where they were fighting. They eyed the decapitated head of Stanlus in the middle of the courtyard, Lierick stomping on it as he ran toward us.
“He said my father knew Avalon was beneath the Hall. We have to take the risk.”
Lierick hesitated, then nodded decisively. “Let’s go.”
We fought our way through the clashing lines, which at some point had become an unstable powderkeg of anger and violence. We’d need to fix that soon, but Avalon came first. This whole city could bleed out in the streets, as long as she was safe.
The Hall was completely devoid of guards, most of them outside fighting in the streets, either for Fortaare or against theVylans. We made it to the stairs, and I ran down so fast, it was only my magic keeping me upright.
As we came to a stop on the bottom floor, Lierick pointed to the well from which the Hall’s water supply was pulled. At least, that’s what I’d always believed. He climbed onto the edge and jumped in, and I was right there after him. Hayle just vaulted the wall completely.
I moved through viscous liquid, until I fell into a bloodbath. Kneeling beside the body of a brother I thought long dead and gone was Avalon.
Epsy was clawing at the face of my father, who was dragging at the tiny creature, trying to dislodge him from his flesh. But Epsy was ferocious, his mouth covered in blood and his claws cutting my father’s face into ribbons. My father’s magic didn’t seem to be working against the tiny stolt, but eventually, he got a good enough grip to grab him and fling him at the wall. Hayle dived, grabbing the tiny creature before he hit the wall.
“Father!” I shouted, and the man who sired me, who’d made my whole life a misery, turned to look at me with disappointment in his eyes.
His lip curled. “Such a fucking failure. I should have killed you years ago.”
“Now’s your chance,” I hissed, taking a step toward him.
But we were both distracted by the mournful cry spilling from Hayle. “Avalon…”
Avalon was holding thetal,and even now, I could feel its draw. She was crying, her eyes streaming tears, and blood pouring from her nose, over her lips.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “There’s no other way.”
“No!” my father screeched, and I felt his power stretch toward her.
She smashed the statue onto the rock floor, with more force than she could have summoned without some kind of divineintervention. It shattered to dust, floating around the room like smoke. The air grew thick with magic, so thick it was like choking.
Her hair standing on end, Avalon looked between us all, swaying wildly back and forth. “I’m sorry,” she breathed, before falling to the floor.
“No!” My voice and my father’s were layered over the top of each other.
I stared at her body, crumpled on the ground, beside the headless body of my brother. Rage I didn’t know I possessed built up inside me. Rage that had nowhere to go but toward the man who’d taken everything from me.
I launched myself at him, taking him to the ground, wrapping my hands around his throat and squeezing. I could feel his magic battering at me, trying to get purchase in my shields, but there was nothing he could do.
I was a man broken.
He’d finally broken me.
And he was about to reap what he’d sowed. I squeezed, overpowering him not just with my magic, but with my strength. “You killed her. You killed him. You kill everythinggoodin the world, but not anymore. I don’t care if this is the end of our accursed fucking Line, I will drag you down to the afterlife myself.” I could feel the bones of his throat giving way beneath my grip.
A dagger came from nowhere, lodging itself in my father’s eye. I looked up at Zier, his face a cold mask. “A man shouldn’t have to kill his father. May he never know a moment’s peace,” he said, spitting on his corpse.
Grabbing my long dagger, I gripped my father’s hair and sawed off his head. He would never rise again. He’d never be whole. I’d burn them at opposite ends of Ebrus, so he could never reunite them, even in the afterlife.
Lierick was leaning over Avalon, and I scrambled to my feet. My rage had hidden me from a truth I wasn’t ready to face.
Hayle had his head resting on her chest. I looked at Lierick, whose eyes were wet. He shook his head.
She was dead.
