“Quiet,” I hiss. Bax sends me a concerned look, but I shake my head. Clutch Kal’s proctor emblem. All in good time, I tell the goddess.
Then, as the palace doors begin to part and the combined forces of Perinya and Cavan funnel into the inner-court, I reach into the pack slung at my side. And dig out my flask.
I twist off the cap and savor the bitter sting of liquor hitting my lips before the pain engulfs my head. I chug through the searing, draining the flask. A scream rips through my brain, and I can envision the mental debris swirling in a vortex—the destruction being done in Bale’s wake. My mental capacity won’t survive.
I swallow the last drop and then fall to my knees.
“Prince…” Bax is beside me on the black dirt in an instant. “What have you done?”
Lake unsheathes his sword, confused, and aims it at Bax. “My Liege?”
Shaking my head, and immediately regretting it, I let loose a cry. “Goddesses! Ah!” I sink my hands into the earth and curl my fingers, digging in deep to center myself. “Stand down, Lake. I’m all right.”
But I’m not. This stunt has cost me plenty. Soon though, the blinding ache begins to lessen. I open my eyes, and the tunnel vision slowly starts to widen. My stomach roils, saliva dripping from my lips. I suck in a breath past the nausea.
“Go into my pack and pull out my other flask.”
Lake hesitates and looks over his shoulder at the Otherworlders quickly approaching the military line. As the liquor begins to seep into my brain, blocking out the rest of Bale’s violent rant, Lake reaches into my bag to get more of my supply.
“Maybe most of the celebrating should commence after the battle is won, My Liege?” Bax risks his limbs by taking the flask out of Lake’s hand.
Bax is worried I’ll overdo it, or trigger Bale’s wrath—which I’ve apparently already done. “Just keep it at the ready,” I say, motioning to Lake to help me stand.
With obvious annoyance, Lake sheaths his sword—all the while staring down Bax. But of course Lake won’t confront me, tell me that getting drunk as the battle is about to unfold is not the best action.
There’s no need, anyway. Bale’s already let me know.
But it’s worth all the discomfort. For now, I’m rid of her. I can think—almost—for myself. I cling to that and the token in my pocket. This may be the last time I’m able to do something that matters. Something that, after I’m dead and gone, I’ll be known for. Rather than that one prince who was possessed by a dark goddess that one time.
The metallic clash of armor and swords fills the air. The line of armies are a blur in the night.
Dusting myself off, I say, “Into the palace. Follow my orders”—I eye Bax—“and no one will die.”
? 20 ?
Kaliope
THE WALLS SHAKE WITH the energy of something powerful—machines. I bolt from my seated position on the cot. My eyes sweep the holding room, and when they land on Teagan, her expression knowing, anger latches on to me. Quick and biting.
“What’s happening?”
She lifts her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “The goddess can’t be stopped. Can’t be contained much longer. Her time comes soon.”
I roll my eyes. “What is happening outside, Teagan?” I pump my hands into fists, agitated. “Enough of your goddess babble. Something is going on in Court. Did you know of this?”
“My Liege, it’s all planned—”
“Stop calling me that!” I grip handfuls of hair, trying to stop the maddening desire to hurt her. It’s no more my Bale-tainted blood than Teagan simply being infuriating. Besides, according to Teagan, I’m not possessed. Not in the way Caben is. If any of the dribble that leaves her mouth is at all true, then the goddesses hid Bale’
s stripped power in me.
The good powers. If you can call them that. The reason why I can heal, am stronger than most. And why my bond with Empress Iana can see more, feel more, than the other Nactue. Why the Goddess Alyah could speak to me during the Reckoning. But that doesn’t answer how I also have the power to bring madness. To hurt people.
But there’s no time to ask those infuriating questions now. The walls are trembling around us, and I can almost feel…
The holding room door bangs open. Barging through the entry wielding a sword, is Caben.
My heart lurches into my throat—out of excitement or fear, I don’t know which. Both are equally present, the combination powerful and conflicting. But the emotion is swift and whole. His blue eyes find mine through the cell bars, and he smiles.