Far away, he heard murmuring; sensed someone kneeling before him. There was the vague knowledge that he’d been burned, yet his clothes were soaked through. Hot and cold flashes wracked his aching body.
He felt terribly hollow; a husk of himself. His magic had drained from his system.
Boot buckles rattled as someone approached. Whoever had been kneeling at his side, pressing a gentle hand against his damp forehead, swiftly rose to her feet and scuttled away. Even through the mental fog, Killian caught a whiff of rosewater, but the scent was quickly swallowed by the stench of somethingwrong—like the rot of burial grounds, or a corpse disintegrating beneath the sun.
Even without having to look, Killian knew it was the one who called himself the Dark Lord. His shadow fell over him like a storm choking out the sun. Killian was too weak to move, too weak to open his eyes.
Even when the king said, “Bring him to Moiria’s Loom.”
~
Sable laid Avalon down gently on the damp grass before the temple. She pressed two fingers against the princess’s wrist, feeling for a pulse.
Nothing.
Sable’s eyes snagged on the blood that had stained Avalon’s cream-colored shirt. Carefully, her hands trembling, she pulled up the hem…
There was a vicious tear between two of her ribs.
She had been stabbed.
Footsteps thudded on the muddy earth, and Sable threw up a ring of flame around herself and the princess, her wings fanning out protectively over Avalon’s body. Crouching low, she whirled on a heel, her eyes turning a vibrant red as Hadrian Courts slowed hesitantly.
Taking in the murderous look on her face, he paused and wisely lifted his hands above his head. But as he caught sight of Avalon lying lifeless and bloody behind Sable, he curled his fingers into fists and bared his teeth.
“What happened?” he demanded. He stalked forward, canines glinting, hands balled at his sides.
The flames surrounding them swept higher, and Hadrian stumbled back, shielding his face from the heat. The captain tried to get through, but he burned his fingers on the wall of flame. Hissing in pain, his skin already turning an angry red, he reluctantly stumbled back.
“I can save her.” Sable’s voice was void of emotion.
She watched the captain’s expression change as her words sank in. “Is she—” he choked on his words. Swallowed. “She’s dead.” It wasn’t a question.
Sable held very still.
Slowly, the captain sank to his knees. The color drained from his face, and his eyes filled with tears. The pain on his face was too great to bear; Sable was ashamed that she had to look away.
“She’s not going anywhere, Captain,” she whispered. “Not like this.” Her hands were steady as she crouched low over Avalon. She laid one palm over her heart and the other over the wound in her side. “I can save her,” she repeated, as if she were trying to convince herself. She could do it—she knew she could.
“Save her?”Hadrian’s voice was a shout, the words so loud they startled Sable. When she glanced over her shoulder at him, she saw that his eyes were wild. For a moment, he looked like he’d lost his mind. “She’sdead, Sable!” His voice broke in two places.
Down in the city, guards were swarming the streets. Elated and hysterical conversation rose above the turmoil. Shielded as they were by her flames, Sable knew no one could see them. But it was only a matter of time now before the guards came up to investigate. Only a matter of time before that had to move.
With her wall of fire still burning bright, Sable turned her back on a glassy-eyed Hadrian. He was still as Death behind her, but she paid him no mind as she closed her eyes and concentrated.
Breaking free of the mask had allowed her to Ascend. Hilandria’s gifts swam freely through her veins, now at their fullest potential; her skin glowed subtly with an unearthly light; wings had shaken free from her upper back, as if she’d had them this whole time. It wouldn’t hurt to see what else she might be capable of doing. For Avalon, she would try anything.
Her surroundings melted away, and everything became as silent as the day the universe was created. Back before the earth, before the stars, before even time existed.
As she confronted Death, she wasn’t prepared for the winged shadow that swept in, pulling her under.
~
Hadrian’s heart was pounding so hard, he swore he was going to throw up.
Minutes ago, Sable had knelt before a lifeless Avalon inside a circle of fire. Now, the two had gone utterly colorless and translucent—and deathly still.
They’d become spirits, he realized. And he had no idea what in the Nine Hells he should do as he stood helplessly beyond that ring of flame, his gaze shifting between the flickering spirit of the woman he loved and the guards swarming the streets of Hilsian. Any minute now, and they would find them. The dull aching of his fingers was only a reminder of how useless he was.
