So, I reached.
I delved deep inside of me, feeling for the darkness.
What shall we do?it asked.
We shall feast on the bones of our enemies, I responded. Ancient spite swirled along every atom and molecule inside of me, pure instinct kicking in.
Delightful, it purred.
Shadows slammed out of me in a torrential wave. The chains binding me snapped in half, falling to the sand, and Aerie, the Goddess of War, rose.
Primus shoved his staff in the sand to keep from falling to his knees, his eyes burning with wrath and what looked like… desire. It disgusted me. I reached my hand out, my fingers clenching as the darkness pressed against Primus, digging its talons inside his mind. I bent and twisted at the walls of his conscience, relishing at the anguish that carved his face.
There was such cold malevolence and hatred there, enough to make me want to double over and wretch at the images drawn from him. Burning flesh and screams of torture. Women and children fleeing, their lives dim and inconsequential to him. At the helm of it all, slimy, slithering curses that drained the lives and souls of everything they touched.
I pulled back slightly, the death and destruction so overwhelming, and it was enough for Primus to regain control. He shoved his staff toward me, and I buckled beneath the weight of an invisible hand pressing me down.
And then he did the one thing that broke me.
He turned his staff onto the others and a dark cloud appeared above them. It gave a threatening rumble and drops of liquid began spilling from it, each one the size of a fat berry. They fizzled where they landed. At Lana’s screams, I knew it was not water. The fluid left red welts in its wake, seeping into anddissolving the flesh it touched. When Kilian’s gaze met mine, I knew it was over.
Dread pooled in my stomach at the sight of my friends – of Kilian – bound and chained, acid rain dripping onto them.
The darkness reached forward again for Primus. To stop him. But the God of Curses had layered his mind with titanium now, and it was an impenetrable fortress. Kilian’s neck bowed as the rain washed over him, blood streaking across his face. Lana was no longer crying in pain, and I realized she had passed out from the agony. Septimus’ body covered hers as much as it could. Angry red blisters marked both his and Syrina’s skin.
My heart splintered wide open. I dropped before Primus, my voice raw and broken. “Stop.” But the rain did not cease. A sob wracked through me. “Please! Stop! I will stay in Tuscan. I will stay as yours. I will never leave you again.”
Kilian’s head jerked up. His silver eyes snapped to mine. “Lirah. No!”
But I had to do this. It was the only way.
“Let my friends go,” I told Primus. “Let them return unharmed to Tarlor, and I will remain here, with you.”
Primus’ gaze slid to me; finally, I had caught his attention. The rain paused but the thundercloud still drifted above, poised to resume its assault at any second. “You expect me to believe you will not run at the first chance you get? That your friends won’t simply return to collect you?”
“Curse me, then,” I whispered. “Curse me to forget them. And when they leave, place rock salt around the entrance. They will not be able to re-enter.”
Primus looked like he was considering my words. “What of Septimus? He is unbound.”
“Leave him be. He won’t come back. He has too much at stake.”
Primus’ eyes fell on his brother, still covering Lana in case the rain started once more. “I suppose,” he murmured.
Lightning scattered across the sky. Primus raised an idle hand as a bolt struck. It glanced off what seemed to be an invisible shield around him. The energy dissipated and crackled into nothing.
“Your efforts are valiant, Azrael. But I’m afraid in this half-form, you don’t stand a chance,” Primus said.
I knew how helpless Kilian must’ve felt. I could see the anger and pain in his eyes, but beyond that, desperate, hopeless terror.
“Please,” I begged, before Kilian could do something else to bring Primus’ retaliation tenfold. I couldn’t bear his pain, the suffering of all of them, when I could prevent it.
“As you wish. Think of it as a homecoming gift.” Primus gave me a nasty smile. “Rise.”
I stood on shaky legs, the darkness inside of me quieting into dull submission. Primus stepped toward me. It took everything in me not to recoil as his hands touched my face. He smelled like old wine and cellars, of damp dungeons and rot. It was a bitter, musty scent that made me nauseous.
He pressed two fingers to my temple. Kilian’s face contorted into a mask of rage and fury. One of the chains snaking around his arms groaned with the exertion of his struggle, but it did not give way.
“Primus!” he yelled. “She is not who you want. I am the one who brought her here, the one who intends to kill you. I am the one you want! Let her go!”
