“Let me out,” the High Sage pleads.
“No,” Odette snaps.
“I can save Cassius. I can heal him! Just let me get to him and I will—”
“You’re lying,” Claudia says, her voice hollow and knowing. Something has changed within her. Perhaps it’s the magic of Dracoemagyl in her blood, but she feels some strange tether to the High Sage. Some greater power lets her know just how wicked he truly is. “I can taste the rot in your soul. You deserve to die.”
Triche opens his mouth to speak, but his eyes go wide. Hescreams and jolts forward, startled as if something has grazed his legs below the surface of the lake.
Then, he falls.
The lake stills.
A silent eternity later, blood and bubbles rise where he once stood.
Then rises his head, severed from his neck. It bobs and spins until it’s face up, mouth wide open, eyes and teeth all missing.
The rest of his body never comes up.
When the shock wanes, Claudia falls to her knees next to Cassius. She touches his shoulder, but she can’t bear to turn his body. She can’t stomach seeing his lifeless eyes. Angel and Odette stabilize Marcherie to her left. Alistair comes to her side.
“Claud,” he says quietly, placing his hand on her arm. “We should go in—”
“Stop. Do not take me from him.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But we need to go inside. We need to treat our wounds and figure out what we’re going to do next. You don’t need to witness this horrific scene for any longer than you have to. It will only make it harder to forget.”
She shoves his hand away. “I don’t want to forget. I refuse to forget.”
“Claud…”
The sound of water lapping snags their attention. There are strong ripples coming from the center of the lake.
“Is it him?” Alistair asks.
Claudia swallows hard. “It’s him.”
Night-black wings are the first to rise from the surface. Then she sees Sidarphion’s face. His perfect, angelic face, and those piercing green eyes. Essence of dreams drips from his soaked silver hair. He’s even more beautiful now with the moon-touched glow of freedom. The rest of his body emerges, his wet black clothes molding perfectly to his godly form. The air freezes around them as the god of stars and nightmares steps out of the lake and ontothe firm ground. He approaches Claudia immediately, smiling down at her with Triche’s blood staining his teeth.
“Hello, Starling.”
Claudia can’t speak. Can’t think. She’s caught between her lover’s dead body and her enemy’s terrifying form.
“You have freed me,” he says, voice filled with awe.
“No,” she growls, glaring at Odette. “I didn’t kill Cassius. Odette did. She is your monster, your murderer. Not me.”
Odette walks forward, leaving Marcherie breathing steadily in Angel’s strong arms. Her lip quivers. “I’m sorry. I had to. We couldn’t kill Triche on our own. We didn’t have a choice.”
“I wish you went with Triche,” Claudia bites out. “I wish he killed you. I wish you were dead.”
“I know. But I’m going to fix this,” she says, throwing herself to the ground between Claudia and Sidarphion. Claudia scowls at the back of Odette’s head, hands trembling.
She could kill her now. She could wrap her hands around her throat once more and squeeze until her neck splits in two.
Bowing before the god, Odette says, “I want to make a new bargain with you, Sidarphion. You must want revenge on the gods who left you to rot. They could’ve saved you, but they did not.”
The rhyme snags Claudia’s ear. It’s such a subtle charm, but it’s there. A similar spell once worked on Triche—maybe it will work now.
