The Iron King lurches toward her. “Thyra!”
Is that her name?
In the instant that he tries to get to her, I catch sight of the flash of emerald in his eyes, no longer completely black.
But his back is exposed, he’s lurching up from a kneeling position, and I have no mercy.
With a snarl, I strike my sword through his chest before he can completely turn toward the Oracle, using his upward and forward momentum against him.
The sharp angle at which I drive the blade takes it across his clavicle and through his heart.
“No—!” The Oracle’s cry rips at me, her feet moving,but only a single step before her legs give way and she falls to her hands and knees.
As I strike the blade through the Iron King’s chest, forcing him back against the icy wall, his focus flies to me, his irises fully green, his forehead creasing, a dawning recognition in his face. Of me. Of the Oracle. And finally of the steel impaling his chest.
His legs buckle, already partially bent, now fully giving way.
“Please,” the Oracle cries. “Stop.”
My focus is on the Iron King now, but I can tell that the Oracle is trying to drag herself through the snow by the soft, scuffling sounds she’s making. She’s barely moving, shivering so hard that her breathing is ragged.
Many times I’ve listened to a foe collapse to their knees. Always, I’ve welcomed it.
Today…for her…not so much.
But I don’t stop, continuing to drive my sword deep through the Iron King’s chest and into the ice behind him, impaling him in such a way that he’ll have to slice through his own chest to escape.
Lowering my face to his, I take in his shallow breathing, his dragging inhalations as I whisper, “She is no longer yours.”
He slumps against the wall, his head drooping toward his chest.
Blood, deeply crimson, finally trickles from his lips, a blood loss that makes me wonder if the wound I’ve already inflicted could be fatal…
I can’t assume so.
“Thyra was never mine.” The Iron King’s fangs are gone, and I’m unsettled by the clarity in his green eyes, the ferocity in his voice, a monstrous determination as he rasps, “Stellen… Keep my hope safe…”
His hope?
The Oracle sobs where she huddles, her cries tearing at the air around me, plucking vibrations within the storm.
I want to give in to her wishes, to ease her grief and stop her weeping. She’s expending precious energy, energy she needs to conserve. But I can’t let this opportunity to finish the Iron King slip through my fingers.
I had the chance to end him three days ago. I didn’t because it would have meant physically wounding the Oracle.
I won’t stop this time.
Not even as her quiet, soul-crushing wails wash over me, or as she tries to drag herself toward me.
Not even as she begs me, “He didn’t choose this.”
My lips settle into a hard line as my power finally depletes and the snowstorm dies around us, the ground sparkling as snowflakes settle onto it.
Into the sudden silence between the Oracle and me, I whisper, “I am heartless. The sooner I prove that to you, the better.”
Chapter Five
Thyra
