But now that he was, now that he was being ripped apart, not just in front of me, but in front of the entire empyrean, why wasn’t I happy about it? Why did I feel sick to my stomach?
He’d earned this when he’d set my Manmi up to be slaughtered. And yet, his pain, his anguish, didn’t satisfy me. Every last one of my seven hearts were breaking instead.
“Safah,” Ezekiel pushed. “Is the Fallen Prince your temple-mate?”
Hèls. After what we’d experienced through Purification earlier, he was probably more than that now.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Quazar let out a scream so wrangled with pain, I bowed over, gripping my chest over my hearts. Still, I didn’t look away. I felt like Ihadto keep watching. Like I owed it to myself. To Manmi.
It was sick and twisted, but I made myself watch as blood seeped down his arms. His legs. Bathed the floor where he’d fallen, rolling in his own death.
Now, the Blood Rites were created for all Fallenspawn to participate. For them all to share in the burden of proving fealty to the empyrean. Instead, their Prince, Quazar Valoryen, negotiated, really he begged the Farasee Order, to let him take the full share of the burden unto himself. And in our generosity, we obliged.
Stars.
They would bleed him out for every Fallenspawn. I looked over to where they’d been sanctioned to sit. Every last Fallenspawn was on their feet, necks tense, hands clenched in fists, jawlines hardened as they watched their Prince get tortured like an animal for sport.
Then they all started to turn and look up at me. My brothers scooted in, spreading their wings around my sisters and I. I closed my eyes.
I didn’t know what to do. How to feel. The bloodletting went on and on. My mind filled with the symphony of Quazar screaming. But never, not once, did he beg for it to end. Did he ask for them to stop. He took it. He let them bleed him. Because if he didn’t bleed, the Fallenspawn would.
Unbidden, tears began streaming down my face. I felt torn. By truths I’d worn like armor only to find there were chinks in the mail. This was what I wanted but it felt sowrong. It didn’t satisfy me. Instead, it tore me apart.
“Sazu,” Hosea whispered, wrapping a wing around me, as Evanae leaned in, clinging on to me.
“Sissy,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
I let the tears flow. I sobbed uncontrollably, clinging to my gown at my chest. I felt his anguish. Felt his pain. Felt his tears. His sorrows. I let my mind rail. Let my hearts break. For Manmi. Myself.
Forhim.
Finally satisfied, Granmanmi Asarah called out once again. “Blood for blood!”
“Blood for blood!” the arena screamed out, as if on a high.
The bloodletting tendrils disappeared. And by some outrageous miracle, Quazar rolled himself over with his bloodied wings, pushed to his feet, and began hobbling off the dais. I watched him take every agonizing step, until he finally reached Dakairi, who immediately took him into his arms. Then Quazar collapsed into his best friend.
I bowed over, dropping my head in my lap. Soothing hands brushed my back. I didn’t know who it was. I didn’t care.
“Let Titombwe commence!”
I didn’t recognize the voice. It wasn’t Granmanmi.
Stars.Granmanmi. How many times had she done this?
The amphitheater exploded with raucous joy and applause as music began playing. I figured the Cherubim had come out to sing and celebrate.
I couldn’t move. My head remained low and in my lap. I felt disgusting. Entirely ill. I couldn’t stop these rotting tears from flowing.
The soothing hand on my back never stopped. As Titombwe continued, I never stood up to join in the celebrations. And as time went on, I realized that none in my family had either.
Chapter 29
Istared at the door of my bedchamber, frozen in place. I didn’t want to go out there. Since Titombwe, I’d locked myself inside. Seven dawns had gone by and I still couldn’t go an hour without crying fresh tears over what I’d witnessed.
Papi always said vengeance bore a weight most angels could never carry. Ellabeth tried to see me, but I wouldn’t let her in.
