Page 43 of Winds of Ruin
“Where did you bind the Death Origin?” I snapped, and Lark flinched.
She’d acted on my behalf.
My sulking could cost us the realms.
Lark hesitantly held up the black mirror; in all the commotion, I hadn’t noticed it in her hand.
No… not there. Anywhere but there.
“I’m sorry, I was just trying to help!” Lark answered my internal panic.
Swallowing hard, I peered into the pane. Instead of the swirling black abyss that usually greeted me, amber fogged the glass.
“Emmerick?” I croaked out, hoping he would appear and quell my growing worry.
A decaying countenance materialized in the mirror, screaming in silent fury as clawed hands banged against the pane to reach us. Lark jumped and nearly dropped the fragile prison.
I snatched it before it fell.
“This…” I stared at the trapped Death Origin, at where Emmerick’s face should be. “This is the most reckless, stupid, foolish, irresponsible thing you haveeverdone.”
Lark grew teary-eyed. “But the North King! You can wake him now without Caym being released. I know that is what you wanted—I’veheardyou think it.” Her tone grew defensive.
“If you’d eavesdropped on my private thoughts a little longer, you might know that we cannot. There isn’t a way to wake someone from the Sethe curse. Now all we have is a precariously trapped Death Origin and a sleeping King that I can no longer speak with.” My voice cracked on the last part.
My throat closed. Clearer now, Caym’s face grew closer to the pane. His glare locked on me.
“You killed my friend,” I growled.
“Many more will die trying to stop me,” he hissed, and the hairs on my arms rose. His skin was peeled back on his nose, exposing the bone.
“Why won’t your soul just rot?” I spat.
He let out a grave chuckle. “The Sources and Isolde think this new little Isleen can contend with me?” He glanced at Lark, who flattened her back to the wall.
The Reverist that Sybilla and Lark had descended from was Isolde’s most powerful daughter. He still held a selfish grudge over Isleen’s ancient betrayal.
“Don’t speak to her.” I ground my teeth and then said, “So, you are going to destroy the world, lay cities to rubble, forwhat? Over a lover rejecting you in favor of your brother? Petty really.”
“I see no greater reason. Wouldn’t you have torn the world apart for your Moon-wielder? What might you do for your sleeping King?”
I longed to punch through the glass. He wanted to be free; he would say anything it took to bait me.
The guards threw open the door to the bedchamber, finally realizing where the threat lurked. Sybilla and Krait were on their heels.
There was much explaining to do.
None of it boded well for my standing as their most trusted friend and the advisor for multiple courts. I’d put their daughter in danger and the realms at risk.
Sybilla peeked around Krait’s shoulder. When her gaze locked on the mirror, she gasped.
“I will live to see the next black moon,” Caym snarled. “You’ve made it all the easier with no one to fight in here. The clock ticks, my little Isleen. You took my body once and failed to stop me…”
The Origin of Death looked directly at Sybilla. My Queen’s hand found her throat—the only nervous tell the tough-as-nails woman possessed.
Then Caym slipped into the shadows of the pane, as though he’d never been there at all. The shining black surface revealed nothing amiss.
“No…” Sybilla whispered.
