Burning Glass (Burning Glass, #1)(120)
Valko’s eyes were pewter gray—hard with determination, yet shining with remorse. “Then you understand why I must strike you down. You are a thorn in my side, Sonya, a plague worse than Black Death. You make me weak, and I cannot abide weakness.”
Past his harsh and finite words, I felt his affection still burn within my breast. Although he cared for me, he had no choice but to end my life. I had gotten myself too involved and now people were dying—like they did whenever I released the darkest parts of myself.
“I understand you,” I said. Because at last I did. My aura smoothed into a looking glass.
I saw him in me. Myself in him.
My death was the only way to bring about peace. If I lived, I would only cause more destruction. My life held back the good of the empire. The world was in shambles, and it needed a resplendent leader—with no weak link to hinder his reign.
Valko sighed and shook his head sadly. “It’s a shame you couldn’t make me strong.” The tip of the dagger traced a swirl against my collarbone. He leaned in closer. His teeth dragged along my ear. “I shall miss the taste of you.”
I understand.
A mournful cry echoed distantly. My brow twitched.
Valko placed the dagger above my heart.
I understand.
Three muskets fired in succession. Pain blossomed across my belly. Had the emperor killed me already?
“Close your eyes, Sonya. I can’t bear to have you look at me that way.”
I understand.
The blade bit deeper. A trickle of warmth slid between my breasts. Why was I still breathing?
The scent of gunpowder lingered in my nostrils. More faraway cries. Where were they coming from? I could no longer remember what was happening.
The blade at my chest wavered. “Good-bye, love.” Valko squeezed my arm where he’d cut me. I sucked in a breath from the pain.
On the brink of my death, something deep, almost buried, but still pulsing within me compelled me to open my eyes. The flickering energy gained strength. It built in illumination and steeled me with courage. At last my mind cleared and I recognized the feeling—Anton’s aura living inside me, his rekindled light shattering Valko’s dark grasp.
As I lifted my gaze to the emperor, I saw no more of my reflection in him, felt no more compassion. “Put the dagger down.”
Valko’s face contorted with a faint semblance of pity. “It’s too late, Sonya.”
“No. It isn’t.” There were people yet alive. I cast my reach out wide for them. Felt each beating heart. Each rise and fall of breath. Each unique energy. I wasn’t mistaken about empathy being the key to their salvation, but I’d wasted it on the wrong man. My empathy wasn’t meant for one person. It was meant to be given liberally. To all. Regardless of class. Wealth. Position. I would become one with Riaznin and let the emperor, at last, meet the reckoning of his people.
“You will not kill me because I am your empire.” I pointed beyond the marble ledge of his balcony. “Your people’s cries are my cries. Their anger is my wrath. Their suffering, my plea for retribution.” As soon as I spoke the words, a gate opened inside me. How easy it was to let them in, to let them overcome me. The quiet space within myself I’d labored so long to protect, I tore down of my own volition.
“Their auras fill me. They stretch me beyond capacity.” I gasped, shaking. “I feel myself bridge the earth and sink beneath the ground, slipping between the cold bones of the dead. Their auras join us.” I opened my hands and welcomed the connection, though it shot ice through my veins. “They cry against you. Against centuries of oppression.”
Horror filled Valko’s eyes, but he didn’t release the dagger from my chest.
“This is your day of judgment. A million voices use my mouth. They will not rest. You do not have enough gunpowder, enough armies, enough endurance to withstand them. They will keep coming. They will crawl over the corpses of their wives and their husbands, their children and their friends, their brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, and they will hunt you down.”
“Stop!” Valko dropped the dagger. It clanged against the tiles. “Do not say another word!” He clapped his hands over his ears.
The haze of the peasants’ torchlight cast my dress and skin in a scorching glow. “You do not have glory,” I said. “You are tiny. Your blood is mortal, common. Glory is godly, undefiled. And glory joins me with the holy aura of the gods.” Tears streamed down my face from the transcendent energy surging through my limbs. “You oppress your brethren in your quest for all power. That is weak. It will always be weak. No man can be all-powerful.”
Valko fell to his knees. He wrung his ears and muttered vain prayers.
I stood tall over him. “The gods wish to feed your soul to the fires of hell. You will burn in eternity for the wrongs of every emperor before you because you did nothing to stop the cycle of cruelty and tyranny against your people.”
He shook his head as if to ward me away. His incessant prayers grew louder.
“Show them you are only a man,” I commanded, and summoned his aura back inside me. It was a pitiful spark next to the powerful inferno within. I pushed my overflowing energy into him so the suffering of his people could no longer be ignored.
As their auras struck him, Valko gasped and buckled at the waist. He writhed in agony and stared up at me with astounded eyes. “Forgive me, forgive me.” He clutched at his hair.