Page 132 of Under the Iron Sky

Across the room, Ikarus flinched. Whimpered.

And Ramapheal heard.

Whirling, he spat, “Come here.”

Pure panic burned in Ikarus’s eyes. His breath sawing out of him, he looked to the corner of the room, then to his mother, who held a slender hand out for him to take.

“It’s all right, darling,” she said softly, smiling despite the blood welling from the three fresh slashes down her face. “Everything will be just the way it should.”

Ikarus took her hand, let her guide him across the room. She stood behind him and wrapped her arms protectively around his shoulders.

“The princesses were on the roof?” Ramapheal’s voice was a knife pressed against a throat.

Ikarus nodded. There didn’t seem to be a part of him that wasn’t shaking.

“Then why did you not attack? Why were they not brought to me?”

“I tried. There was … a girl with them. She—”

Ramapheal grabbed Ikarus’s throat and lifted him off the floor.

Soraya gasped, hand flying to her mouth just as horrible, horrible power flared through the room and Ikarus started to scream. His arms flailed, legs kicking uselessly at the ground that was not there.

“Please, Ancient One,” Ikarus’s mother was begging. “It was a mistake. He will not make it again.”

Ramapheal didn’t let go. “He must learn.”

The smell of burning flesh filled Soraya’s nose. She wanted to retch. Wanted to look away as Ikarus screamed and screamed—

A whip of shadows slashed across Ramapheal’s face. He let go of Ikarus, dropping him with a hiss to clutch his cheek, rage twisting his features as he followed those shadows across the stone floor, into Ikarus’s mother’s pale hand.

Two fairies Soraya hadn’t even realized were in the room suddenly shot into view, one wielding a kitchen knife, the other curling their wrist to command the head of every plant in the room to swivel toward the Ancient One.

Ramapheal’s guards moved to defend him, but he merely slid an eye to the first fairy and his head exploded, blood and gore raining through the room. He swiped his hand through the air, and all that blood morphed and hardened into a ruby blade that he used to cleave the other fairy in two.

Terror froze Soraya like a statue. She’d known Ramapheal was powerful, but to see it for herself … What hope was there for rebellion when he could dispose of those who didn’t serve him so efficiently?

“You have served me well in the past,” Ramapheal said, “but your usefulness is at its end.” He raised a taloned finger toward Ikarus’s mother. “Goodbye, Serone.”

Serone. Just like his dragon. Did this mean—

By the fire, Ikarus let out a choked sob. He stared at his mother in silent terror, tears sliding down his face. The pale skin on his throat was red with fresh blisters. “No—”

Gold eyes glistening, Serone smiled at her son. “I love you,” she whispered. “More than anything.” That smile did not waver when Ramapheal sliced a hand through the air, and cut her throat wide open.

The memory twisted again, the walls darkening and bending in on themselves with a cacophony of screams. Soraya was still in the parlor when they righted, the room falling into such quiet so suddenly her blood chilled.

Frowning, she turned on the spot, looking for Ikarus in front of the fire—

Oh, Gods.

He was on the floor, holding what was left of his mother’s body.

Pieces of Serone were littered across the floor. A foot by the door. A finger on one of the sofas. Part of a leg swinging from the chandelier.

A horrid chuckle had Soraya spinning around, to where Mortis, Morana, and that green-haired Dar’rak were trailing Ramapheal out of the parlor. All four of them were covered in blood. As they left, the Dar’rak veered toward Ikarus, going the long way around the sofas just so he could brush by the shaking boy on the floor, lean in close, and shout, “Boo!”

Ikarus jumped, jostling the bleeding bundle in his arms. He stared after the Dar’rak with silent tears running down his face, his bottom lip trembling.