Page 99 of On Brutal Thrones

Fake Nyx stops in front of me. Then she kneels. Her dagger rests across her palm as she studies me with those horrible black eyes.

I wonder what could possibly be going on inside her head. If there’s anything at all. What would it be like to exist only as some machination of the gods, running like a clock rather than moving through the world by your own will?

Perhaps that’s why the gods have such disdain for us.

We don’t blindly follow the paths they lay out. Even though we’re products of their original creation, we resist. They threaten us, bribe us, coerce us, even kill us, and still we fight to choose our own paths. To grow and love and live however we see fit.

My mother refused to bow to Valtor. He cursed our family for it, but she never regretted her choice. Even after everything we suffered, she never wished she’d surrendered to him.

Maybe that’s what it means to be human. Maybe that’s the answer to her question. Who are you?

I’m someone who can choose.

Fake Nyx’s head tilts.

“No,” she says gently.

She looks down at the dagger in her hand, and I recognize the emotion flickering across her face. Not cruelty. Not amusement.

Fear.

She pushes the blade into the sand between us, leaving the handle pointed toward me. “You kill me.”

I stare at her, certain I’ve misunderstood. “What?”

“You kill me,” she repeats.

A nervous laugh escapes me. I glance at the dagger, then back at her. “Why would I do that?”

Her black eyes lift to mine. “Because I can’t.”

The way she says it makes the hairs rise along my arms.

“You were trying to kill me a moment ago.”

“I had to.”

“Why?”

Her expression twists, and she looks more frightened than I feel. “Because that’s what I was made to do.”

Cold settles deep in my stomach.

The lake behind her remains perfectly still. The mist curls around us, brushing against my skin, and suddenly the silence feels watchful. As if this place is listening to every word we say.

I look at the dagger again. “And now?”

“You stopped fighting.” Her gaze drops to the blade between us. “You did something you weren’t supposed to do.”

A shiver runs through me.

“And that means I have to kill you?”

“It means you can.”

I swallow hard. “What happens if I don’t?”

Her eyes meet mine again, and there’s something desperate in them now.