Siege of Shadows (Effigies #2)(135)

“I wanted to believe that he was wrong. That I had finally found friends I could believe in.”

Her blue eyes snapped back into focus and she looked up at me desperately.

“Y-you have,” I said, shaking. “We’re . . . We are friends, Belle.”

“Then, as a friend, let me ask you this.”

I already knew what she would ask. My lips began trembling.

“And as a friend, answer me truthfully.” Belle placed a hand on her stomach, touching a hole through the tears her torturer had made in her shirt. “Did you know?”

Tears stung my eyes once again. “Belle . . .”

“Did you know this entire time?”

What could I say? We’d all heard the confession. The whole world had heard Aidan Rhys admit that he had murdered Natalya.

“Please, Maia.” She was begging me now. “Please, just tell me.”

But I couldn’t. I pressed my lips together to seal up my whimpers. I’d stopped moving, my stomach turning so terribly that I doubled over from the pain. But she was still approaching me.

“Maia, just tell me. Remember . . .”

The wind chilled, snowflakes slipping out from the air around her, gathering by her hand, forming the shape of her sword.

“I’m asking as a friend.”

I saw the edge of the beautiful sword I’d once admired and suddenly, in that moment, I realized that it was Belle who’d suggested we travel in separate cars.

I could lie. I could tell her I hadn’t known. That I’d been as surprised as anyone. But I didn’t want to. The man whose secrets I was protecting was dead. I would never see him again. And I was tired. I was tired of everything.

“Did you know, Maia? That Aidan killed Natalya?”

“I’ve known for a long time.”

She was too fast. The sword came down on my head before I knew what was happening, but by pure instinct alone, I avoided her. She was emotional, too emotional to be precise. That was my advantage. I dodged her clumsy swings, her enraged, sorrowful cries splitting the air. I called my own weapon, my scythe emerging out of a whirl of flame to counteract her strikes, but she pressed me back, back, and back still. It wasn’t until I felt the rocks crumble and fall down from my heel that I realized she’d pinned me against the cliff.

One more swing and she broke my scythe. It dissipated into nothingness.

This was insane. This couldn’t be happening. “Belle, I’m sorry!”

“You knew!” Belle dragged the tip of her sword against the cliffs. “You saw me going through hell. I opened myself to you—to all of you. And you betrayed me!”

“I know!” I put out my hands to stave her fury, to save my own life. The tears were falling freely now, dripping into my lips, down my chin. “I know, and I’m sorry. I was scared. I was scared you would do something crazy!”

“Like kill your lover?” Belle’s hair was a shambles across her face. When she swept it back, I saw her eyes glinting with malevolence, with disdain, with pain. She smiled the mocking grin of a girl who knew her world was over and she had nothing left to lose. “But he’s already dead. It was all for nothing.”

A strangled cry escaped my lips as I thought of him, the pain of his death made real by her malicious words. “It wasn’t just for him. It was for you! Belle, this isn’t you. You’re not a killer. Natalya’s gone, but it’s killing you! It’s twisting you! Natalya wouldn’t—”

She pointed her sword at my heart. “Don’t tell me what Natalya would want,” she said, breathing wildly. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see me. You didn’t see Madame Bisette beat me. You didn’t see Natalya save me. All you saw were heroes. You were never there! You didn’t save me!” She gripped her own head, crying openly. “You betrayed me. You were my friend and you betrayed me! Why? Why?” she shrieked. “Why, Maia? Wh—”

The stream of angry cries died as she looked down and realized what I already knew, what I could already feel.

The elegant tip of her blade pierced through my chest.

She stared at it, her tear-soaked face catching the moonlight. She stared as if she did not understand what it was. As if she didn’t recognize the blood dripping down my stomach, down the edges of my mouth.

It was beyond pain. It was mercy. Numb. Forgiving. The tears continued to slip quietly down my cheeks as my lips quivered, my hands shaking as they reached up to the blade, whose steel surface I’d memorized all those nights I watched clips of her fighting alone in my room, dreaming that her strength was mine. I touched it, the sword that had pierced through my flesh, blood, and bone. As I felt the steel beneath my fingers, my lips parted one last time.

“I . . . just . . .” I sucked in a shaky breath. And then I did the only thing I could. I smiled at her. “I just . . . didn’t want to lose anyone . . . ever again.”

The sword ripped out of me just as a gasp tore out of my throat and into the chilly air. I stumbled back, the stars, the moon, the night spinning and tilting above me until my eyes rolled to the back of my head and darkness washed over me.

The smile never quite left my face as I fell off the cliff and into the waters below.