Page 142 of Godbound
Someone’s screaming. I think it’s me. She’s not going to die, I swear to myself. I won’t let her. I blink away the tears and try to think.
I need something alive to feed my Decay magic. I need life to bring it into her.
People. There are people all around us, nobles and commoners alike, still lingering in a loose half-circle, their backs turned. Were they watching her be butchered like this? A young, innocent girl? And now they just turn away, as if there’s nothing left to see.
They could have helped. They could have spoken up, or at least offered her a hand when the Chastity Warden was done. Instead, they look away.
For a heartbeat, I want them all dead.
For Peonica, for my family, I’d rot every single one of them forthe simple mistake of doing nothing. But before my fury and hate can claim me completely, I realize they’re not just turning away to avoid us. They’re not ignoring what’s happened. They’re watching something else beyond my line of vision.
Through the spaces between their still bodies, I glimpse a flicker of red light. Then I notice the black smoke oozing upward and tiny embers drifting just above us. The sight barely makes sense at first.
Then I force myself upright, my legs shaking beneath me. Over the heads of the crowd, the truth comes into focus.
Rust Hollow is burning.
I stand frozen as the full scale of the devastation sinks in. The rest of the women who refused to serve… they’ve been made into an example.
Mael is trying to kill them, I realize, the thought landing in numb horror.
Or was it Alistair? Both?
Every breath feels heavier, every scream in the distance cuts a little deeper. These are women like Peonica. Like me. Dying, because of me.
Because I gave them hope for a better future.
A flock of ravens sweeps over our heads. I sense their wingbeats like a pulse in the air, vivid and alive, full of life I don’t deserve.
I fling my arms upward. Decay lashes out, snaring them mid-flight, wrapping them in rot. Their feathers crumble to ash that drifts down like black snow, and their life surges into me.
I drop to my knees and press my hands to Peonica’s chest. Her life force is barely there, flickering. I pour everything I have into her. It isn’t much.
But it’s enough. Her heartbeat steadies. I feel her lifeforce push back, small but stubborn. She’s not going to die, I tell myself. She’s not going to die.
I feel no guilt for taking the lives of those birds, not like I did when I rotted the wolf at my feet. He had already been dying, and still, the shame seared through me. But this…
These birds were healthy, alive and free. Just unlucky enough to fly by at the wrong moment. And I took them. I sacrificed them withouthesitation. And now Peonica breathes while their ashes fall around her. The worst part is, I would do it again.
“Take her to Micheline,” I rasp. “She’ll help.”
“I won’t leave?—”
“I’ll be fine,” I say. “Please.”
His storm-gray eyes search mine. We both know I could compel him, send the command down the godthread that binds us, and he would have no choice but to obey. But I don’t.
Even though I nearly lost myself. Even though I came moments from rotting everyone around us. Because forcing him would break more than his will. It would be another chain added to the ones he already bears.
So I hold back despite the strain, despite the fear. I pray he’ll choose to listen. And I find myself trusting him enough to believe that he will.
Whatever he sees in my face makes him move. He scoops Peonica into his arms, steps into the shadows, and vanishes.
I take a deep, bitter breath. As I exhale, the stillness fractures and the world moves again.
I get up and run toward the fire.
Rust Hollow is in ruins.The gates are torn wide, one half hanging loose, the other engulfed in flames. My feet are numb, but I keep running. Screams rise all around me. Men in black with torches chase women through the streets, red scarves over their faces. Many houses burn, some are barricaded, women most likely trapped from within.
