Floris had betrayed her; it had been the recalcitrant Desara who had truly helped Luella, but?—
Could Luella blame the healer? Would she have done the same to keep her Vincire safe? If it had come down to a stranger and Az, whom would she have chosen? In its ease, the answer was sinister.
Sheunderstood. As she stared at the healer, on her knees, she tried to nod, to ensure that Floris knew Luella did not blame her.
Luella wasn’t sure if that helped or not; it seemed Floris’s tears only flowed harder.
Arms akimbo, the Tenebrae loomed over the chained healer at his feet. "The duplicitous healer. I must say, you did all I asked of you—and more. You obeyed me well. It is a shame that the usefulness of traitors is short-lived. You know what happens once someone outlives their usefulness to me." He bent low. Shadows jumped from his fingertips to her flesh, spilling over her like ink. "Would you like to join your sister?" Even whispered, the words carried up to Luella.
Floris went catatonic.
The healer thrashed, the manacles at her wrists rattling as she struggled to rise to her feet. The Umbra behind her kept her down with hands on her shoulders, using great force as the shadows twined around her and forced her to still. Floris seethed, and when the Tenebrae remained unperturbed, she switched to sobbing, trying to prostrate herself on the ground.
Pressing her forehead to the floor, she begged loudly, "I-I will give anything. Do not harm her. Please—she is innocent. She does not need to pay for my wrongdoings."
But what wrong had Floris done?
Sympathy made Luella’s eyes grow blurry with tears. She was trapped, unable to do anything but watch.
The Tenebrae smiled, shadows stroking over his lips. "It is already done." He stretched out a hand, fingers reaching as he beckoned.
An Umbra came forward from the crowd, a spike in hand. But…
A head was atop the spike.
Mouth stretched into a silent plea for final mercy, silver hair dripping scarlet where blood had soaked the ends, features delicate but retaining a similarity to the weeping, chained healer.
Floris screamed in anguish. "Fawna?—"
As if her sister was the last thing keeping her sane, the healer snapped, jerking away from the Umbra holding her as she surged to her feet, uncaring that the shadows were slipping into her mouth and eye sockets, trying to tear her back down to the ground.
The Tenebrae met the eyes of an Umbra at Floris’s back, nodded, and the Umbra brandished a long, straight sword, deadly sharp. Floris was unaware of what was to come, but Luella knew.
She turned her head just before the executioner raised the blade.
There was no thump of a headless body, no sound of muscle and bone being cleaved by steel. Only the Tenebrae’s ringing command of:
"Wait."
Luella looked down.
Floris stared only at her sister’s head, nothing else. The Tenebrae had one hand raised, a darkly mischievous expression on his face as he looked up to meet Luella’s eyes.
"A gift should be beautiful, should it not?"
Hope soared in her mad heart. Was he going to let her live?
Luella’s hands curled around the gilded bars as she leaned up on her knees, feeling the ground sway beneath her.
The Tenebrae’s fingers curled inward toward his palm, and the shadows stretched out into a thin line, like string. It was so delicate, she nearly missed the way it sliced forward, straight through Floris’s neck. Her mouth opened in shock.
Had he missed?
Tiny beads of blood welled along Floris’s neck. Then her body fell to the side. Her head rolled to the floor.
Luella fell onto her bottom in shock, the cage swaying beneath her.
It rocked harder, then dropped, her stomach flipping. The cage slipped to the ground, as if a string that kept it tethered to the ceiling had been loosened. As she descended, she realized that she was next in line to face a god’s wrath.
