C aduan was gone for hours. It was strange how difficult it had gotten for me to be without him, especially now, with something inside of me
unmoored. I went to my room and sat alone, feeling like I had when I first opened my eyes in this empty body—trapped with nothing but the sound of Nura’s voice telling me that I did not know how to do anything but destroy.
Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew I shouldn’t—I knew he would not want me to. But I crept upstairs to Caduan’s chambers. I had spent enough time there recently that no one gave me a second glance. He demanded privacy, so once I slipped through the main door, there were few guards or servants to worry about. I moved through the halls until I reached Caduan’s bedchamber, which I peered into. The room was empty, the covers on the bed crumpled as they had been this morning.
Even without Caduan, I felt better here—less alone, comforted by even the ghost of his presence. If I drew in a deep breath, I could smell him, the crispness of the forest mingling with the warmth of candle flames.
I wandered through his room, debating crawling into the bed to let him find me when he returned. I paused at the bureau, which was open, a drawer half-ajar. Where I might have expected to see clothing or undergarments, instead it was filled with small bottles, nearly half of which were empty. As I approached, I felt the air waver—like something radiated from them in a sense beneath all the others, reminding me of the way I had felt when we fought at Niraja.
I frowned and reached out for them.
A sudden whoosh of air behind me pulled me away. I realized that Caduan was here—I’d simply missed him. He sat out on the balcony, at a
small table set with a board, his back to me.
And Ishqa had just landed before him.
In several long, silent strides, I crossed the room and pressed my back to the doorframe. My blade was out, and I was ready to strike if I needed to. I half expected Caduan to already be making a move of his own. But instead, he simply gestured to the empty chair across from him.
“Sit. Join me for a game.”
I could barely see Ishqa, only a sliver of his profile. A wry smile flitted across his mouth. “I am out of practice.”
“So am I. I have no good opponents. Meajqa is terrible. You failed in that part of his education.”
“I failed Meajqa in many ways.” Ishqa sat, and I scooted further behind the doorframe so he wouldn’t see me.
You should kill him, a voice whispered in the back of my mind. He is not expecting you. He should die. Make sure your face is the last thing he sees.
But I didn’t move.
I heard the clack of marble pieces moving against the wooden board. “You’re here because of Ezra,” Caduan said, mildly.
“Is he dead?”
“No. Why should I punish him for an act that was clearly not his idea?”
Clack.
“That was you,” Caduan stated. “Uncommonly stupid. Surely you must have known that he couldn’t do this.”
“Desperate times,” Ishqa said.
Clack clack, as one piece claimed another. “Do you really hate Ela’Dar so much?”
“I love Ela’Dar. I helped you build this empire.”
“You were ready to shatter it. And don’t try to tell me that was not what you were doing. You have many faults, Ishqa, but you are not stupid. You knew that positioning Ezra as a king would break us, whether he succeeded or didn’t.”
A long silence.
Clack.
“I will take one fractured country over a devastated world,” Ishqa said, at last. “Even if it pains me.”
“A devastated world,” Caduan repeated slowly. “Would you say that what the humans did to my House was devastation? Or what they did to Aefe, because of your betrayal? Is that an example of your inclination for the greater good?”
Clack clack clack—each movement harder.
“What I did to Aefe is the greatest regret of my life. I valued my loyalty to my House over my loyalty to a friend. I valued my Queen’s desire for power over the greater balance of life. I will not make that mistake again.”
“And your son? That is devastation, Ishqa. What they did to him. It destroyed him. You left before you could see the extent of it. Or maybe you left because you didn’t want to.”
Ishqa’s voice shifted so suddenly, cold and lethal like a drawn blade. “Watch your tongue, Caduan.”
“Too close to the truth?”
“Meajqa is the only good thing I have ever brought into this world. I am doing this for him, and I hope he sees that one day.”
“He is ashamed of you and will be until the day he dies.”
Clack clack CLACK. Two pieces claimed by Caduan, but Ishqa did not even move to respond.
I barely breathed, edging closer to the glass. I could close the distance between myself and Ishqa in a heartbeat. He would not have time to react if I lunged.
“Let’s discard the double talk, Caduan,” Ishqa said. “I came here to ask you, one last time, to stop this. No—to beg you.”
“I have no intention of stopping before I have finished my task.”
“I helped the humans recover after the fall of the Zorokovs. I saw the consequences of a war between the humans and the Fey.”
“You are the one leading the humans on a chase for the Lejaras.”
“Only to keep you from using them. End this, and I will help destroy them.”
Clack.
Caduan chuckled. “When I first met you, I never would have thought you would be so foolishly trusting.”
“You know the consequences of the powers we tamper with. It could destroy this world.”
“Then advise them to surrender.”
Clack, as Caduan calmly placed another piece.
CRASH, as Ishqa sent the board smashing to the floor and leapt to his feet.
I tensed.
“This is ridiculous, Caduan,” Ishqa spat. “What will you do when this is over? What will you do when you stand upon a pile of corpses and ash? Will that make you feel better? Will it help Aefe? I warned you once about the intersection of vengeance and victory. You are not looking for victory, you’re looking for vengeance, and nothing you do will ever be—”
“If you want someone to blame, blame yourself.” Caduan rose, too. “None of my people will ever suffer the way that Meajqa did, the way that Aefe. Never again. Someone needs to be willing to—”
Caduan’s body lurched.
He doubled over, his hands pressed flat to the table. And in the same moment, Ishqa leaned closer.
I didn’t wait. I was already coiled. I was already moving.
I lunged onto the balcony. Ishqa gripped Caduan’s shoulder. I caught only a glimpse of his face, his brows furrowed deep, before my body slammed into his. We landed together in a tangle against the railing, my blade already poised at his throat, my magic pulsing at my fingertips. Tiny sprouts of vines grew slowly across his skin.
“Aefe, stop!” Caduan commanded, before I could land my strike. “Let me kill him,” I snarled. “He was moving for you.”
But Caduan was not even looking at me. He was looking only at Ishqa
—and in turn, Ishqa looked only at him, wide-eyed, even as I pinned him.
“Now, I understand,” Ishqa said, almost sadly. “After all this, now I understand.”
For a moment, the whole world balanced on a knife’s edge. Ishqa murmured, “Does she—?”
“Enough.” A shadow passed over Caduan’s expression. He turned away. “Kill him, Aefe.”
You have waited for this for five hundred years, a voice inside me whispered—and it was only now that I realized that voice was myself, as Reshaye.
I leaned over Ishqa, and at last, his gaze turned to me. His face was the final, dying sight of my old life. And now, mine would be his.
I hated him.
And yet, he looked at me with only resigned sorrow. “I am so—”
His blood sprayed over me. I cut his throat with such force that the blade hit bone. Leaves and flowers grew over his skin, consuming his mouth, his nostrils, piercing those beautiful eyes and smiting them from his face.
My heart was racing, my blood rushing in my ears, my muscles shaking. I hated him.
I hated him I hated him I hated—
I let out a ragged, wordless cry and pushed Ishqa’s body from the balcony. This person who had dominated my dreams and nightmares was nothing but a limp sack of flesh as he fell to the rocks below.
I rose slowly, shaking with rage and grief and hatred and anguish and, and, and—
Caduan reached for me wordlessly, and I let him pull me into his arms as I wept.
 |
I THOUGHT I would feel release of some kind, once it was done. Thought I would feel satisfied, or triumphant, or relieved. Thought his blood would fill the hole within me.
But instead, numbness strangled the emotions that built and built beneath my skin with nowhere to go. The hole gaped as wide and painful as ever.
I had thought my life would begin once Ishqa was dead. Instead, my life was the same.
