I’ve nicked them in countless places, and it’s only because they’re quicker even than most highborn that they’re still alive.
The only fae capable of challenging me are Stellen and Maxim, a final battle I’ve contemplated many times, and every fae in the three kingdoms knows it.
We are the three kings.
Each of us is determined to take the female Oracle for ourselves and change our fate.
Maybe today we will finally face each other in a battle to the death that has been fated for generations.
Lilis launches herself at my back, reaching for me with her icy palms, but I spin to her, my blade slicing the air, each of my blows cutting her armor and driving her toward the side of the nearby building until her final step presses her up against it, right beside the alleyway blocked in ice, and my final blow will take her head.
Through my battle rage, I’m conscious of the lowborn woman, the way she’s poised on the balls of her feet, keeping clear of the fight, ready to run. No doubt, she’ll bolt as soon as she sees her chance.
But we’re blocking her path, and a hint of desperation enters her eyes before she darts a glance at the stalactites obstructing the alleyway.
It looks like she’s contemplating climbing over them.
She’ll burn her palms down to the bones if she tries that, but?—
Fuck me!
She’s going for it, one small hand darting out toward the nearest sharp protrusion, her knees slightly bent, her balance perfectly adjusted so that she can hoist herself upward and—only with a miracle—leap over the icy spears.
She’s guaranteed to lose her hand in the process.
With a roar, I sacrifice my killing blow and veer to the right instead, my axe smashing through the icy barrier, blocking the lowborn’s escape.
I act before I even think about it, shattering the stalactites with a single blow, sending chunks scattering across the ground.
The lowborn woman’s faded eyes widen, and that’s all I see before I spin back to Lilis.
She’s slipped away from me.
I catch sight of her disappearing back, her white hairflying as she and her men race away from me further along the street. All three of them.
I lower my weapon, letting them go, and then I check on the lowborn woman.
She, too, is bolting away from me, her high boots carrying her along the narrow passageway in a flash, her dull black hair blending with the gloom.
The shadowy pass quickly fills with smoke, and then she’s gone from sight. Vanished from my life.
Her furious gaze remains burned into my memory.
For a moment, I consider whether there might be a little goodness in my heart after all, but I immediately banish that possibility.
Even if I can make the female Oracle break the curse her ancestor placed on the three kingdoms, there’s no escaping the poison in my heart or the endless pain it brings me.
I remind myself: Pain keeps me alive.
As I turn away from the shadowed alley where the lowborn woman disappeared, I tip my head to the sky, identifying my eagle soaring down toward me. There isn’t enough room for him to land, but I don’t need him to.
When he swoops toward me, I leap upward as high as I can, deftly catch hold of the bone at the front of his wing right where it meets his torso, and swing myself onto his back without upsetting his flight.
I learned long ago how to fight and fly in my heavy armor, so well, in fact, that this steel may as well be a second skin. I even sleep in it.
I thump my heart with my fist and accept the pain the punch causes me, the searing knowledge that this cursed war won’t end until I find the female Oracle.
Herandthe blade upon which the False Queen placed the curse.
