In the Wake of the Wicked (Veridian Empire #1)

72. Rose

72

Rose

D arkness surrounded me. Wind and shadows blew against my skin. The second I broke through the haze, I sucked in a breath.

Alaric and Callum had cornered Horace, whose sword did nothing against the surge of shadow magic. He used his blade to block Callum’s spinning arrowheads, slashing and weaving it through the air faster than I thought he could move, but it didn’t stop all of them. Already, small cuts littered his cheek and neck, blood dripping from the thin red slits. He seemed to be throwing illusions at both the challengers, for Alaric and Callum would occasionally roll to the ground or duck below some invisible force I couldn’t see.

Horace saw me enter the fray and lost his concentration for a split second. “Get out of here, girl!” he bellowed, missing a step as he swung. An arrowhead sliced deeply across his neck.

I cried out, and Callum glanced back at me with a wicked smirk. In an instant, he bounded toward Horace who staggered to the ground as blood poured from the wound. Callum’s hands circled Horace’s throat…and squeezed.

Horror shot through me. Images of both my father and Horace lying flat on their backs, blood spurting from their necks, flashed across my vision, blending together in a fog of red. My heart pounded in my ears as my feet moved of their own accord. Suddenly, I was behind Callum, my dagger in my hand.

“Let go of him, Callum!” I screamed in warning.

“Only six of us get out, Feywood. What about this don’t you understand?” His hands remained tight around Horace’s throat. The guard’s ruddy face turned an alarming shade of purple, his eyes bloodshot as they rolled back into his head. Blood bubbled from his lips.

He was dying.

I didn’t think. I shoved the dagger into Callum’s back, feeling every inch as the blade tore through skin and muscle with a sickening squelch.

The shadows around us disappeared.

Pulling the dagger out, I stumbled backward, putting a hand to my mouth. I just killed ?—

“Nice try,” Callum’s voice sounded in my ear. I jumped back with a shriek.

“No, no, no, no, no…” My plea was breathless and shaking as I slowly turned to face my victim, lying face first in the dirt.

Alaric.

“No!” I ran to his side, flipping his heavy body over to find the blade had pierced through his heart, deep red blooming on the left side of his shirt. His eyes were glassy and unmoving.

Horace was nowhere to be found. It was a trick. Another trick . One I kept falling for, over and over again.

But this time…I wasn’t in a dreamscape, where none of my actions were real. I had killed Alaric. He was dead because of me. I’d stabbed him through the heart and taken away any chance he had at getting out of here. At seeing his family again.

And he knew my uncle…Fates, I’d killed Ragnar’s friend .

I killed a man.

A choked sob left me. I gripped my dagger and spun to face Callum.

This was his fault. It was supposed to have been him beneath my blade. Maybe I didn’t want to kill him, but he was a poison on this world. The spell Leo and I had found in my father’s Grimoire blossomed behind my eyelids. My vision shook with rage, my peripheral going gray as adrenaline and wrath pounded in my skin, my bones, my blood.

Magic swirled within me like it had that day in Gayl’s lair. Every cell vibrated with a bloodlust that begged to see this man on his knees, praying for mercy, pleading for my forgiveness.

I stalked toward him and slit my hand on the blade.

I may not take his life, but I could try and take his magic.

“ Phyxie, ” I said before he could conjure an illusion. My voice was distant, unfamiliar. Cold. Instantly, the breath left his lungs, his lips already turning ashen with loss of oxygen. My blood made the spell stronger than normal.

Good.

I fisted his shirt and dragged my dagger across his collarbone until a line of blood bloomed to the surface. The siphoning spell only required that I?—

“Rose, stop ,” a voice said behind me. Leo’s hand wrapped around my upper arm, but my gaze stayed focused on Callum.

“It will have a price, sweetheart,” Leo urged.

“You didn’t seem to care when we planned to use it on Gayl,” I said icily. Callum had precious seconds left.

“If we have to face consequences, let it be against him . Not this poor excuse of a challenger. He’s not worth it, Rose.”

“I’ll pay the price.”

“But what if it’s not you that pays it?”

I blinked, his words seeming to break through some of the fog in my mind. Leo handed me a thistle leaf. My fingers shook as I put it to my lips and murmured, “ Finiscere, ” and my spell on Callum broke. He sucked in lungful after lungful of air, still disoriented in my grip.

“Think about my father,” Leo said. “About Chaz. About the curse. You don’t know who will pay this price, Rose.” His voice was steady, an odd contrast to the tidal wave rolling through my body. “It could be your aunt. Your cousin. Is that worth it? Is he worth it?”

Leo was right. We had no idea what the consequences of such a powerful blood spell would be, if it even worked the way we wanted it to. Branock Aris had been willing to accept the cost…and the entire empire had paid the price.

Would I be able to use it against Gayl? When the time came, would I be willing to accept any price? Or would we be starting an entirely new cycle of curses brought about by the hubris of magic?

I let out a breath. My shoulders slumped as my hold on the dagger at Callum’s collar loosened.

I was about to back away when he caught his breath and smirked at me.

“Should’ve gone for the eyes, Feywood.”

My blade disappeared, only to be replaced with a stick. I looked down to see my dagger in Callum’s hand—he must have taken it from me and cast an illusion. Rissa cried out my name as the tip of the blade lunged for my ribcage.

Snap .

Callum dropped to the ground. Leo stood behind him, dark eyes blazing.

A scream left my lips and I fell backward in shock. Leo was there to catch me, cradling me in his arms.

“You’re alright, sweetheart. It’s alright. You’re safe. He can’t hurt you.”

I gripped him, letting the feel of his lips on my forehead and his sturdy arms surrounding me keep me grounded. My mind struggled to catch up with what the last few minutes had brought. Every time I blinked, I saw Horace’s slit throat, Alaric’s dead eyes, my father’s spell, the knife at my ribs, the crack of Callum’s neck as it twisted on itself.

Looking over, I glimpsed Horace supporting Lark, who limped toward us on an injured leg; a haggard Rissa and Nox; and Arowyn, who leaned against a tree, arms wrapped around her midsection. I noticed distantly that the cyclone had stopped and the forest was now silent.

“The—the portal back to the capital,” Lark started, panting slightly. “It’s through the entrance to the tunnels. The same one that led us here. It should take us to the palace.”

“There’s still one extra person.” Arowyn strode into the clearing. “Seven. The architect said only six can get through.”

Lark nodded. “I know, but there may be a way around that. When we set up the enchantment, it was under the assumption that it would be six magical beings—the six challengers. I think if someone tried to pass through that didn’t carry magic, the spell wouldn’t count them.” She gestured to Arowyn, whose magic had been temporarily depleted when Horace threw the poisonous water over her.

“You think ?” Arowyn asked skeptically.

“That’s the best I can offer. Would you rather be the one to kill one of us?” Lark challenged. Arowyn held her stare, her jaw clenching, then looked down. “That’s what I thought. Technically, only six of us bear magic at the moment. We should all be able to get through.”

“What about them?” Nox asked, pointing to the three dead bodies littering the clearing.

Lark’s face fell as she took them in. I wondered if she felt responsible, in a way—this was partially her tournament, no matter how many of the strings Gayl was pulling in the background. “We’ll come back for them. I’ll come back for them. Once the rest of you are safe.”

She led us across the clearing to the entrance of the underground tunnel system. The terrain became rockier and more uneven as we neared, the ground sloping downward before opening to a wide separation in the earth, tall enough for a person to pass through.

I should have felt relief. Elation, even, knowing the trial was over and we were getting off the island. But I felt…numb. The adrenaline from the last twenty-four hours was fading, leaving me em pty. I didn’t know how to process what had happened. How to go back to normal life in the palace or Feywood.

Ragnar had been right all those weeks ago. Death wasn’t the only outcome for this tournament. These trials, what each of us had been forced to do…they left a permanent mark. One I wasn’t sure I was ready to face yet.

“How do we know this won’t take us back to the tunnels?” Arowyn asked, looking at Lark as she stood before the dark entrance.

“Once all challengers passed through the first time, the enchantment should have changed course. It leads to the palace now,” Lark explained. “Horace, would you like to do us the honor?” she asked, motioning to the burly guard. He grunted and gave a stiff nod before stepping into the portal and disappearing from sight in a faint shimmer.

The remaining six of us stood in silence. Birds whistled through the trees, creatures of the forest returning in the absence of the storm. The peace and brightness of the world around us contrasted with the death and destruction of the clearing.

When nothing happened, Arowyn followed after Horace. The Strider shot a look I couldn’t decipher at Nox and me before crossing over.

“You two, go,” Leo said, putting his hands at Rissa and Lark’s backs and ushering them forward. Rissa looked up and clenched his hand before she and Lark vanished.

“See you on the other side, viper,” Nox said, offering a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Finally, it was only Leo and me.

He pulled me into him and rested his chin on top of my head. My body sank against him, shoulders dropping and tension unwinding. Just the two of us. For a moment, nothing else mattered.

“Maybe staying wouldn’t be so bad,” I murmured. I moved to put my chin on the hard planes of his chest, looking up into his eyes. “No expectations or responsibilities. Find a cozy cave to live in. It could be nice.”

He smiled and pushed tendrils of hair from my face. “I’ll find you a cozy cave once this is all over.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He kissed me gently, with a tenderness that wiped the worries from my mind. My heart felt lighter as we broke apart and I took his hand, leading him to the portal. I stepped into cold, dark nothingness, with the same sensation of ice slipping through my veins. The grassy underbrush of the forest gave way to sleek, dark wood. Leo’s hand slipped from mine when my feet planted firmly on the palace floor.

I turned to the wall, waiting for him to appear.

One heartbeat. Two. Three.

The hair on the back of my neck raised.

Placing my hand on the wall, I was met with solid stone. A weight dropped in my stomach.

“Leo?” I called, fist pounding on the hard surface. My pulse stopped then sparked rapidly, roaring in my ears. Where was he? Why wasn’t he coming through?

“Did you think,” a quiet, steady voice said in my ear, “it would truly be so easy, dear niece?”