Everything just… stops.
And Inni’s voice echoes in my mind.Nyxthos is dead.
The Hunters killed a god. It’s not supposed to be possible. We’ve all heard Saelira’s prophecy, but who truly believed it? Yes, I’ve wanted to kill all the gods. I don’t know how many long nights I’ve talked about my theories on how you’d go about doing it.
But it seemed so impossible. I’ve felt their power. I’ve tried to match my strength against Lysara, and it was like a fly trying to kill an elephant.
These Hunters, barely more than humans, did it in less than ten minutes with stardust and fancy crystals.
Then Fiona screams. Her eyes are wide open, and I turn toward the girl who means more to me than she should. She collapses to the ground and begins shaking. I rush to her side, ignoring the Hunters.
At the same time, a human covered in gray scales with glittering dragon wings even larger than mine lands on the stage and begins a true slaughter. Sidon in human form.
Sidon the Strong is the greatest warrior in the history of Nyth, and watching him move is something from a story. He doesn’t run. He simply walks toward the closest Hunter, a trained killer who just helped to kill a god, and hits him a single time in the face. The Hunter crumbles to the ground. As if he were picking up a piece of cloth that had fallen from a clothesline, he picks up the Hunter’s spear.
Other spears try to stab him, but his movements are so perfect that the strikes simply miss. One moment, he’s bending down to pick up the spear, and the next, it’s slipped into the narrow gap between two pieces of armor. His fist connects with another Hunter’s cheek. Both of them fall to the ground, not moving again. More spears attack him. Shields are turned toward him.
He leaps, kicking two Hunters in the face, before landing behind them, the spear lashing out. It shatters against the back of abreastplate, but not before splitting the steel in two and leaving its bearer on the ground. Before the Hunter’s spear has hit the ground, he’s caught it and stabbed another between the gorget and helm, forever silencing her.
Calyr roars, “ONE IS LEAVING!” I ignore it. My job is done, and I’m certainly not leaving Fiona alone with the enemy to chase a coward.
One by one, Sidon kills the Hunters exactly as he’d said he would. My eyes turn back to Fiona, not doubting the dragon’s abilities in the least. She’s shaking, and I don’t know how to help her. I don’t understand what’s wrong, but something isverywrong. She shouldn’t be acting like this.
Her soul is breaking.Inni’s voice is in my mind before she lands beside me.Nyxthos bound her to him. His power wove itself into the very fabric of her, and now that Nyxthos is gone, there isn’t anything to stabilize the powers of darkness that hold the fragments of her soul together. When one becomes a champion, their soul is broken, and the god’s power is the glue that binds it together, keeping them whole. Now she’s dying because the glue is unraveling. She needs something to replace Nyxthos’s power, or her soul will shatter.
“NO!” I scream at the dragon. “NO! She will not die!” I look from Inni to Fiona, and memories flash through my mind. The night she looked as if she’d seen a ghost. The way she’d moved across the room. It had seemed like time had passed for her and not for me. I’d wondered what had happened, but she was so broken up about whatever it was that I could only try to comfort her. But now… Now I know.
“You will not die. No matter what anyone told you,” I snarl. Without a second’s hesitation, I move to her cloak where I’ve seen her clutch at a specific pocket too many times to count. She knew what had to be done, but she couldn’t do it.
I dig the ermine fur pouch out of the pocket, knowing full-well what it holds since it was mine. I draw one of the three glass beads from it, and throw it against the stone at my feet.
Suddenly, it’s like all the air in the world has stilled. The audience’s breathing stops. The last Hunter falls, and then it’s perfectly silent. It’s so quiet I hear the goddess appear from nothing, called by the power that was just released.
Caeldra, Goddess of Silences and Shatterings, kneels down beside Fiona before looking up at me. Her voice is loud enough I can hear her, yet she doesn’t break the silence that fills the world. “I cannot help her. I already have a champion and I cannot create another. She needs power that can hold her soul together, and there are very few who could do this.”
Then, Sidon is beside me in his true form. “If it is power you need, I may be able to help,” he says in a low rumble that feels like thunder. There’s a sudden cracking sound, like glass breaking under a tremendous weight. I can feel the tears welling up now that the anger has left me, now that Caeldra’s silence has come and gone.
Sidon pulls a scale on his breast back to reveal a powerfully glowing crystal, and as daintily as I’ve ever seen a dragon move, he grips it between two claws and lowers it to me. “It is the crystal into which Vesper’s soul was drawn by the Hunters. When I killed theones who murdered her, I could still sense her inside. I have done what I could to release it, to free my mate, but I cannot. Maybe if…”
I accept the crystal and look at Fiona. Ideas flow through my mind like a river after a flood. None make any sense until I see the golden Mark on Fiona’s collarbone. The Hunters steal magic. There’s only one person in all of Nyth who does the same thing.
Rhaskar Thorne.
Chapter 59
“Never have I felt such power harnessed by humans. I questioned the Black One’s truth before. Even with the Oath that binds his soul. Not now. Nyth will fall to them. I must find new hunting grounds.”
~Words from the Darkness
Azric
Rhaskar Thorne is in bed as the sun peaks over the horizon, and I appear before him with Fiona on my shoulder. Her body is still shaking, and I can feel the life fleeing from her.
“Get up!” I snarl at the man Fiona once called Father.
His eyes snap open, and his hand moves in my direction. I know the movement for what it is, for what Fiona used it for: to call dragonfire from his fingertips. The Mark of the Phoenix. He hasn’t even pulled the blankets off him, and he’s already attacking me. Good on him for not hesitating. As the dragonfire roars toward me, I fill my mind with joy, a requirement for magic from the House of Flames. They stop mid-air, frozen in place.
“I’m not here to kill you,” I say. “Fiona is dying, and you might be the only one who can help her.”
