“She stole from us,” the Mother Superior said. “We gave her everything. Our time, our prayers, a home. We shared our food with her, our medicine, we saved her from herself more than once, and all she did was take, take, take.”
“Give back her tongue,” Briar said. “All this happened because you cut off her tongue.”
The Mother Superior waved a dismissive hand in everyone’s direction and turned on her heel, confident she’d said her piece and no one would go against her word.
Michael took a deep breath, held it at the top, released it slowly and loudly. He had the face of a man who didn’t like what he was about to do but believed it was necessary.
“Do it,” he told Rune. “Off with her head.”
Seraphina felt his fingers tighten impossibly around her neck. Her eyes bulged out of her head as he lifted her off the ground. She rose on her toes, lengthening her body as much as she could, until only the tips of her boots grazed the mud underneath. He kept lifting her. She was hanging by the throat now, her feetin the air. She tried to move as little as possible; if she kicked, she would only hurt herself. His grip faltered for a moment. She could feel his hand shaking, see the tears that poured out of his eyes. They held each other’s gaze, and Seraphina prayed he could see that she wasn’t blaming him. She felt nothing but love for him.
He was going to kill her, but she’d promised herself. She’d promised him, even though she hadn’t had a chance to tell him. Nothing would change what they had. Not even her death by his own hands.
“No!” Briar screamed, running toward them. “No, stop!”
A wolf positioned itself between Briar and Seraphina.
“What are you waiting for?” Michael gritted his teeth. “I gave you an order. Try as you might, you cannot fight it. It’s not called the Obedience Lattice for nothing.”
Rune squeezed harder. Seraphina started choking. He was crushing her windpipe.
“No, don’t!” Briar was crying. “Please! Rune!” The wolf growled at her. “Take me instead! Take me!”
What? Seraphina must’ve heard wrong. Her vision went blurry at the edges, her thoughts collapsed into each other. She was dreaming. She wasn’t here anymore, on this plane of existence; maybe she’d never been. A cruel nightmare, conceived by the sickest mind, but a nightmare nonetheless. Not real.
“You can’t… please. Spare her and take me. I am offering myself willingly.”
A woman screamed somewhere, high, shrill, and desperate. There was a shift in the air, and Seraphina felt bodies closing in. The wolves formed a circle around her, Rune, and the leader of the rebels.
“Is that true?” Michael said. “You would die in her stead?”
“Yes!”
What had gotten into Briar? Or was it a strategy? It must’ve been. Her friend was planning something. Maybe the sisters were on her side. Not all of them, but she hadn’t been as awful as the Mother Superior had said. She’d been friends with the younger ones.
“Release her,” Michael told Rune. “Kill the other one.”
Rune dropped Seraphina. She crumpled, coughing and spitting, her throat a raw, throbbing bruise. She saw the wolves part for him as he marched toward Briar and wrapped his hand around her neck, lifting her off the ground. Briar clawed at his wrist and kicked her feet.
All hell broke loose. The sisters moved forward, the wolves attacked, and Michael took out his saber. Seraphina was forgotten as he yelled at Rune to strangle Briar. With each repeated command, it was harder for Rune to fight the compulsion.
The woman from before screamed again, this time Briar’s name.
Seraphina tried to rise, but she was trampled. She crawled through the slush, disoriented. Someone grabbed her ankle and pulled her away from the chaos. She kicked, rolled onto her back, and dug her fingers into the soft ground. There was nothing to hold on to, and she could achieve no purchase with her wrists bound. She didn’t want to be dragged in the opposite direction. Rune and Briar were right there. If only she could get to them.
What was Briar’s plan? Who was failing to execute it? This couldn’t be happening. Her offer to sacrifice herself couldn’t have been without a hidden purpose.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and she was lifted and set on her feet. She turned around, ready to head-butt the bastard… It was Idris.
He used his knife to cut the rope, but before she could sprint back into the madness, he caught her by the hand and forced her into a bush.
“I have your tongue,” he whispered. “Stay still.” He started rummaging through his satchel. “I’m going to perform the quickest and dirtiest surgery of my life, and I’m hoping the apex relic will do the rest.”
She calmed down. Maybe it wasn’t too late. If he moved fast enough.
They both froze at the sound of approaching footsteps. Idris had her tongue in one hand – a useless, bloodless appendage – and a curved needle in the other. Seraphina grabbed the knife he wore on his belt. From the woods, keeping low, appeared Willa. Seraphina let out a breath of relief.
“What are you doing to her?” the woman asked. “Leave her alone.”
