“Did you think that silly little mask would hide your identity? It couldn’t possibly mute your immortal aura enough to disguise you, Tethys.”
“The crown’s pocket is deep,” she reiterated, clawing at the man’s grip around her. Her heartbeat boomed in her ears, quickening with every tick of the clock mounted above the fireplace’s golden mantle.
“You immortals and your fortunes. Throwing coins at problems rather than taking action to repair the damage you’ve caused. I don’t want your blood money,” he spat.
“What is it then, please?” she asked.
Tethys’s eyes darted from corner to corner, scanning the room for anything to aid in her escape. An iron poker leaned against the fireplace’s stone exterior. If she could just break free she might be able to reach it in time. She slammed the hard part of her head against the man’s brow. He dropped the blade in reflex and his grip around her neck loosened just enough for her to wriggle free.
She dove for the poker, the roaring fire nearly singeing her cheek as she landed on her elbow. Hard. The bone let out a nauseating crack, sending her rolling across the floor in white, hot agony.
“Fucking bitch,” the man growled, lurching for her. He was too slow, though. Tethys may not have had any magic, but her small physique allowed for speed. She jumped away, ripping her skirt from the man’s grip and pointing the poker against his exposed chest.
“You will address me as my lady, my queen, or Goddess,” she spat, pressing the poker into his flesh. The iron tip dug through his skin into the muscle and the bone beneath it. The man grimaced with fiery hatred, his eyes blackening into lethal rage.
“I will never accept you as queen,” he growled. With a free hand, he unfastened the arm of his linen tunic, exposing the thick black tattoo that twisted and twirled around a heavy, battered scar up his forearm. The lines crept across his skin like a parasite.
“You’re a soldier?” Tethys asked, sucking in a breath.
“Iwasa soldier. My unit was ordered to slaughter a lesser village searching for the rebels. Do you know what it’s like hearing a woman and child, barricaded in their home, burn to death?” the man asked. Tethys’s heart sank. She hadn’t been briefed on any Venian invasion. If what this soldier said was true, what else was General Otto redacting from his reports?
Before she could formulate a response, however, the windows beside them slid open and four more men with the same white masks crept inside, each holding a glittering, silver dagger. Their blades reflected the moonlight now beaming in from the night.
“I suggest you lower that poker,my queen,” the man said, enunciating her title mockingly. The little foundation of freedom she’d built swiftly crumbled beneath her, leaving her in a situation far more dire than before. One man she could perhaps take down, but five? She didn’t stand a chance.
She swallowed the thick sludge rising in her throat.
“Take another step and your accomplice here gets iron through his heart.”
The man furthest to her right, a broad-shouldered redhead, scoffed at her and said, “He doesn’t care if he lives or dies, so long as you get what’s coming.” He enunciated the words with a heavy twill, suggesting a Canissaen dialect.
Tethys felt cold, clammy hands grip her wrists. Her captor applied just enough pressure along the bony edge to cause her hand to flex, and she dropped the iron poker.
“What becomes of me when I take an immortal life?” the black-haired man she had pinned asked as he rose to his feet. He smoothed back his hair and removed the mask, revealing high cheekbones that matched his sharp, pointed nose.
“Total destruction,” Tethys lied. In reality, she knew what would happen. Because her magic never manifested, immortality hung by a thread. Her very essence would seep into the earth. Just as Eos and Astraeus, her body would turn to stone and her soul…well, no one truly knew where it would go. Her death, although leaving a people void of their ruler, wouldn’t cause environmental catastrophes or imbalance in the natural world as her siblings’ would. She was entirely expendable.
“We all know that’s a lie,” he said, licking his lips as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and polished the silver blade. “Regardless, I’d like to find out.”
Tethys squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to pull her wrists free from the captor that clenched them against her back. Her effort was futile, however. He was too strong. She cursed the magic that had betrayed her.
The man stepped in close, leaving merely an inch between them. His rough hands wrapped around her neck and trailed down her chest. To think only twenty or so minutes prior she’d allowed him to trace circles against her body. Her stomach turned at the thought.
Before she could protest, he ripped the lilac fabric and exposed her bare flesh to the night air. Her skin crawled as he removed her shift entirely, leaving her as naked as theday she came into this cruel world.
Tethys wanted to scream and cry and claw at her captors. She wanted to lunge at the man and tear him to shreds. However, the dissecting eyes from every direction paralyzed her where she stood.
Realization that she wouldn’t make it out of this library alive hit her like a falling boulder impacting ground. She closed her eyes to greet death. At least she’d find peace from the torment of this life. A tear formed from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek, falling from her chin and splattering on the stone tile below.
“Killing me won’t win your rebellion,” she muttered. The man shrugged and pressed his blade into her sternum, aiming precisely at her heart. He was a soldier, after all. He’d know all the killing blows. She loosed a breath, letting her fists relax and her heartbeat steady. If this truly was the end, then she’d be graceful in death. She glanced at the clock ticking above the mantle—half past four. Dawn was approaching, but this time, she wouldn’t be there to greet it.
A crack of splintered wood thundered through the room, interrupting the needle-sharp agony at her chest’s center. The grip around her wrists loosened abruptly with the thud of a body hitting the floor. Her eyes shot open.
A whirlwind of brown hair and deadly muscle flew by her, knocking the man to his feet. A heartbeat later, the man lay dead on the floor, bleeding from a gash across his abdomen.
The other captors hit the floor one by one as Araes danced through the room. His waltz was a lethal one. With glorious precision, his blade sliced and stabbed and slashed.
Tethys knelt, her knees cracking against the wooden floorboards, captivated by the lethal prowess of an exceptionally skilled warrior. Her breath stilled as she followed his predatory movements across the room. A growl escaped his throat as he sank his weapon into the last man standing. The redhead dropped to his knees, stunned into silence by the blood saturating his white linen tunic.
