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Happiness and hope spread through the battlefield, touching everyone with their intoxicating tendrils. No more bloodshed. No more death. We can begin to grow and learn to work together.
“What about this one?” Grimus snarls, holding up the man who stabbed Cora. “He does not deserve to live.”
Krug nods. “He will continue to sow his hatred through his people as long as he lives.”
Rook grins. “You’re welcome to give him to me. My shadows will make sure his death is painful.”
“No,” Cora declares. “No more death.”
“But he tried to kill you,” Bracken whines. “We can at least kill him a little back.”
“And then what example would we set?” Cora asks, her eyes bright and clear. “Let him go”—she meets the man’s eyes—“with a warning. If he ever takes up arms against our kind again, he will rot at their feet.”
The man bares his teeth at Cora despite her mercy as Grimus drops him on his feet. He stumbles and catches himself beforeeyeing all the monsters who stand over him like great, hulking beasts.
“Monster whore,” he sneers. “You don’t deserve this land.”
“That may be,” Cora replies, “but neither do you.”
He takes a step toward the nearest human. For a moment, I truly think this is over and that this is the end. I’m happy and relieved. There is so much blood on my hands that I know I’ll never be able to scrub them clean again. Feeling relieved, I let my guard down, stepping back from Cora and smiling, not paying attention to those around me.
The man crouches suddenly. “Merryl, now!”
I turn with wide eyes and watch as the man I once thought I loved lunges toward me. He holds a dagger in his hand, one he must have had on his belt. His eyes are no longer clear. They are full of hatred as he throws himself toward me, intending to stab me. Kill the healer, take away the hope—I understand the strategy well. I’m the target now, not Cora.
No other humans move, and the world slows as Merryl flies closer, the sun catching on a dagger I recognize. The ornate handle inlaid with jewels is one I saw slide across my skin, the one the king wore on his belt everywhere he went.
He intends to kill me with the blade from my prison.
White-hot fury fills me. This man is no man I could have ever loved. I don’t believe he changed so drastically—this hateful monster was hiding beneath his skin all along.
Before I can react, Weyland steps before me, protecting me, and the dagger slams into his shoulder, missing anything important. My lightning is already trailing along his skin, healing him as he yanks the dagger out and drops it to the ground with a snarl. I feel another tattoo bloom on my arm at that but do not spare it a look. Merryl’s eyes go round, but before he can turn to leave, Kaito is there with his hand around his throat, sliding a sword into his belly.
“Where do you think you’re going, human?” Kaito asks, his eyes narrowed.
Merryl gasps at the blade in his body, but it doesn’t match the horror in his eyes as I step around Weyland and come closer, my lightning dancing across my skin.
“You call us monsters,” I hiss, grabbing the hilt of the sword and wrapping my hand around Kaito’s. “But the monster has always been you.” Someone hands me the king’s dagger, and when I look down, I see shadows trailing over the blade. As I wrap my fingers around it, my lightning infuses it, and with a feral snarl, I slam the blade into Merryl’s heart before I can think better of it. “There’s no room for your hatred here,” I spit. “Take it with you to the afterlife.”
Merryl’s eyes widen, and then he slumps in Kaito’s hold, his vessel no longer needed. My power explodes out of me as fury, anger, hope, and revolution fuel it, and Merryl begins to disintegrate before my eyes. It takes from him and gives to those who are still injured, healing the individuals with hope in their hearts. I give and give until my power finds no more souls capable of being saved and every injury is healed. Merryl is gone, and the man who commanded him is dead at Grimus’s feet. Those remaining bow their heads, agreeing to end the war and deciding to end the pattern of bloodshed our lands are known for.
My power takes from me until there’s nothing left but more ink spilling across my arm, as if a mark of the souls I have saved, and I can do nothing but collapse into my monsters’ arms. They surround me, reassuring me that I’ve done the right thing.
The war is over. Hope blankets the three lands, begging for a chance.
Now comes the hard part—we must rebuild.
Chapter
Sixty-Two
KAI
Idon’t know what I expected once the blood dried and the soldiers, monsters, and humans left, but it wasn’t the bone-deep exhaustion and pain I feel.
I stare out at the remains of the battlefield, the earth scarred from death and war, and I weep in my monster’s arms.
When I can stand again, I don’t leave or rest or relax. We have to bury the dead.
