The world splits. A wound in reality gapes wide, and from its unending blackness, something stirs. Something vast. A beast born of teeth and nightmares, its form too great to comprehend. Tentacles, thrashing and coiling, each ending in glinting, blade-sharp edges forged to rend not only flesh, but hope.
The Father Below.
His presence crushes the breath from my lungs, pins me to the trembling stone. I can command demons. I can devour them. But not him. Not Gygarth. Before him, I am an ant standing against the tide.
A voice rumbles from that fathomless dark, low and terrible.
“You are a disappointment.”
The words seep into me, cold and absolute.
“No matter how many sigils you shroud yourself with, no matter how you twist and claw at the thread of fate, you cannot escape me. We are one, favored son. I dwell within you, as you dwell within me. There is no severing us. I am eternal and our bargain was struck in blood long ago.”
His shadow deepens, swallowing every flicker of light. “So now,” he says, voice curling into a snarl, “I take what is mine, Daedalus Phaedren.”
My grip on Amara tightens until my arms ache, until my claws bite into my own flesh. I will not give her up. I will not…
But it is not Amara he reaches for.
Gygarth’s attention shifts. His gaze falls on my daughter. A roll of black smoke unravels from the void, thick and clinging, snaring her small form. Her cry pierces me, high, panicked, before the smoke smothers it into silence.
“Meat for the beast,” he hisses.
The temperature plummets. The world dims. It is as if night itself pours into the chamber, and the cold cuts through to my marrow. It happens in the span of a heartbeat.
Her cries vanish. The smoke fades. The light stutters back. The void is gone, Gygarth swallowed once more into the abyss.
I turn to where she had been, safe, I thought, in Solena’s arms. But those arms are empty.
Solena’s knees hit the floor. Her face crumples. “She’s gone.”
Chapter 35
Daed
Before her.I cut through the night sky, wings beating in slow, lazy arcs. The wind sings against my feathers, cool and damp, and now and then my eyes slip shut. My wings fold back. My body tips forward. I plummet toward the black roll of the ocean below.
Only the sting of rain wakes me, cold needles against my skin. I pull up at the last breath, boot heels scraping the water, laughter spilling out of me, wild and unrestrained, as the spires of Baev’kalath pierce the horizon.
I narrow my eyes, trying to anyway, intent on making a graceful landing on the balcony. Instead, my boot catches the railing. My momentum flips me head over heels, and I slam onto the stone. The roll doesn’t stop until I crash against the fortress wall with a solid, skull-rattling thud.
I stay there for a moment, curled and groaning, pain blooming down my spine. Then, inevitably, I start laughing again.
Dragging myself upright, I clumsily limp down the halls, staggering toward the throne room, and when I finally arrive, I shove the great doors open with a dramatic flourish. The booming crack of them hitting their hinges echoes through the dark.
“My king and queen,” I proclaim, arms spread wide. “I am home!”
Father sits slouched on his throne, fingers drumming against the armrest, his scowl cutting even through the dim candlelight.
“Where have you been, Daedalus?” he demands. “It’s been weeks.”
I shrug, dragging my sorry carcass closer. Even the flicker of the candles feels like blinding sunlight in my bleary eyes. “Enjoying the fine hospitality of Eyr’Drogul. Lord Reon had some… pressing thrall-house matters to discuss.”
“All you’ve done is drink yourself into a stupor,” Lanneth snaps from her seat beside him. “You shame yourself, Daedalus. You shameus.”
I tilt my head toward her, grinning without warmth. “My queen. That is simply not true. You hardly need me to embarrass you. You do well enough on your own. Do you know what they whisper about you?” I do not give her time to answer. “No? Then please allow me…”
“Silence, Daedalus!” Father roars, surging to his feet.
