What Lies Beyond the Veil (Of Flesh & Bone, #1)(115)

To the tip of the sword that slowly skewered her alive, puncturing through her ribcage and gleaming in the sunlight with the stain of her blood as it dripped onto the ground at her feet.

It pulled back as slowly as it had appeared, leaving her to crumple to the stone and debris beneath her. A woman’s scream erupted through the air, accentuating the death with the sound of a banshee wailing.

But there was no banshee to be found.

There was only me.





37





“Estrella!” Caelum shouted, his voice breaking through the haze as a member of the Mist Guard slowly stepped over Melian’s body and prowled toward us. Caelum’s hand came down on my forearm again, slapping against me as he gripped me tightly and yanked me to the side.

The streets of Calfalls we ran through weren’t nearly as abandoned as we’d thought, with other men wearing the uniform of the Mist Guard stepping out from the very streets we’d already walked. Caelum urged me around a corner, our feet moving more quickly than was natural over the uneven terrain. He tossed me his sword, which I fumbled to catch as I raced through the streets.

A man stepped into of our path, causing Caelum to release me suddenly in favor of drawing his second sword. The clang of their weapons clashing rang through the air as I ducked low and swiped through his knees with my sword, taking out the fleshy part of his thigh until he dropped to the ground.

Caelum’s mantra repeated in my head. My sword was just an extension of me to be used to my advantage.

I’d always thought I would hesitate when the time came to intentionally take a life, and my desire not to see anyone hurt would be enough to keep me from acting toward self-serving interests. But I’d stopped caring the moment I saw Melian hit the ground, and I felt the loss the Resistance had suffered with her death. Caelum and I wouldn’t join her in the Void.

Not if I had a say in it.

Caelum moved on to the next Mist Guard, slicing through him quickly while urging me on. “Run, Estrella!” he shouted, his voice filled with panic when I paused to wait for him. Something in that command sank inside me, compelling me forward, even though I wanted to stay and fight at his side.

We were supposed to live together. To die together.

So why were my feet carrying me down the street, leaving him behind, as if I was willing to sacrifice him when I wasn’t?

Still I didn’t stop, racing over the jagged rock road and vaulting over the debris. I ran over the top of one of the stones, leaping off of it and launching myself through the air as my legs continued to run, bracing for the moment that I struck the ground.

The blow came from my left, hitting me in the side of the neck so hard that it propelled me to the right. It wrapped around my neck, the iron searing into my skin and stealing the breath from my lungs.

I fumbled for my footing as I dropped onto my side, struggling to my feet with my hand clutching at the iron chain wrapped around my throat. The hum of magic that usually ran through my Mark was lost, as lost to me as Melian was now.

In the absence of the magic I hadn’t thought I wanted, there was nothing. My body was weighted down by the humanity that I’d had all my life. But I’d grown used to that note of something other inside me, and my breath heaved in my chest as I tried to raise my sword.

A boot connected with it, kicking it from my hand as a man stepped in front of me. I dropped to my knees as my lungs ceased to work and I couldn’t draw in another breath.

The man’s boot struck me in the chest, kicking me backward until my body planted on the ground, then I stared up at him as he stood over me and tilted his head to the side.

He looked like so many of the boys from my village, so painfully human as he studied me. “What a waste. They always choose the pretty ones,” he said, pursing his lips as acknowledged how great a loss it would be to kill me.

Because of my fucking face.

I snarled at him, then he raised his sword over his head, preparing to swing it down onto me as I stared death in the face. I couldn’t take my eyes off the blade of his iron sword and the maniacal expression on his youthful face, which hinted at everything he thought he was doing right.

He thought my death would matter. That it could make a difference.

I waited for the pain, braced myself for it, and accepted the end that had come for me. My only regret was the knowledge that Caelum would probably follow, lost to his rage and unable to fight.

“NO!” Caelum roared, the sound causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. The Mist Guard swung his blade downward.

But it stopped a foot above my chest, halted in place by the pulse of absolute power that washed over the Ruined City. It exploded out from the epicenter at my right, distracting the man standing over me.

I followed his horrified stare over to where the power had come from, to where Caelum had been fighting with the other Mist Guard.

They all lay dead at his feet as Caelum stepped over them without a second glance. He walked forward, striding down the street as quickly as he could but never running, unconcerned with the soldiers racing his way, their attention focused solely on him.

Magic rolled off of him. Shadow hands left his body and touched the corpses at his feet. I stared at his face, horror consuming me as the power poured off of him, forming into shadows that fell to his feet.

The horror started at the top of his head, a gleaming silver crown appearing as the air itself shifted, parting to reveal something new. Or something very old. The silver crown bled darkness, the black ink of it dripping down the metal and into the top of his hair. What had once been an ashy blond brightened to ashen silver as it grew to a slightly longer, shaggier style where it ended above his shoulders.