Page 256 of Burn Her They Said
Deep ochre and crimson threads of terror and fear creep and crawl along my spine, lying in wait to wrap around my ribs and squeeze, ensnaring me further with every rapid heartbeat.
Rubble, lying in stacks. With giant slabs of broken marble raining down on us.
I wince as the sensation of heartache spreads outward.
Screaming. Voices young and old. Terror…
I clutch at my chest and pull in a gasp of breath, fearing my heart might break free if I am fed any more of this.
“Tasch!” Varic’s voice calls from a distance.
My whole body shakes as this vision is too visceral, making it too difficult to believe it isn’t already happening around us.
But Varic would never be so far that he would need to scream my name. This is just my vivid imagination. Again.
“Our Imperial Grand Witch Tasch will be integral to our success!”
Every witch, from those who sit in the pews to those attending the soldiers, peers up at me with a reverence I would prefer they’d reserve for someone more deserving. How their expressions would shift were they to understand I have done nothing but contribute to all we are forced to endure. How I have helped to entrap them in this system. One which will require me to leave this place and recuperate, so I might be capable of aiding them in the future.
His Majesty glides along the edge of the stage with stealth and grace I’ve never observed in him. Moving with cat-like agility as he takes long, leisurely strides, his hand held aloft to indicate his supposed affection for the crowd.
A chill rolls down my skin when he turns and gestures for me to mirror him. Yet I cannot shift my gaze from the minute changes in his movement until he closes the distance and digs his fingertips into the small of my back, with an itch developing beneath each point of contact.
The absence of my Guards feels cloying in this moment, with a pressure similar to the one felt with the horde of citizens crowding in. This exposure—this lack of protection—is such a foreign experience, even though I am only twenty or so paces before them. Yet each of my Guards surprises me with their failure to recognize my absence. So entranced in their act of avenging me, with the General who remains standing from the help of Malin’s magic alone.
I send tendrils of urgency to infiltrate each of their bodies, though the sensation of connecting with their chests is unlike anything I’ve felt before. It’s muted. Less. As if some veil exists between us which has weakened my magic, and when I try to sense their mood—I can’t. And I am no longer certain they are receiving any of my influence.
His Majesty leans closer with his sulphur and wine breath, encouraging me to hold my own. I stare back at his skin, now free of so many liver marks, and I scan his features while my chest constricts with my captor apparently aging backward.
“I understand you intend to leave me.” He squeezes my hand so hard it would be futile to try to yank it from him.
His clammy skin. Touching my own. My eyes drop to where no amber shield exists. Where there is nothing to prevent him, or anyone, from harming me. Not now that Varic has abandoned his duty. Except for the thousands of witnesses—the only reason my lungs can expand within the compression of fear woven around my ribs.
“Is my little witch truly so naïve? You know there is no escaping me.” His eyes pin mine in a predatory sneer before his mouth lifts in an amorous grin. He forces our joined hands in the air, as my knuckles crack within his tight grip. “Despite there being nowhere you could run when I rule the Continent, I think I will give the citizens what they have been begging me for.”
My stomach drops as his grin only widens. “It is finally time for me to reward their loyalty with the promise of an heir, though I should never require one.”
The pulse in my ears pounds so heavily, I almost don’t hear him whisper, “Not now that I have achieved immortality.”
Chapter Eighty-Four
Cave
All the blood drains from my upper body while our feigned display of unity earns us the most raucous applause of the evening.
My hearing goes out. Much like my hope that his aims were impossible. That he would never need to marry because he has made us all fear the Dragon’s reign in the event he were to die without ever naming an heir. I have always assumed he would continue refusing to give us a reason to kill him, should he ever sire a sorcerer who could later claim his title.
And he would have no reason to marry since he could choose to name an heir. Wrongly believing there was no possibility he would ever achieve the impossible. The obvious reason his movements are too perfect, too precise. Unlike any living being I know to exist. Because he has become something new and unknown to us.
Some being we no longer have any hope of killing.
Sound invades my ears again as she says, “Your Majesty.” The Imperial Grand Witch part of my being takes over now that I am trapped within the fear of what a union between this monster and me could be. “You should take glory in your victory. You should be exalted as the first to achieve eternal life. A reward which affords you the freedom to never need to marry nor to ever produce an heir. Not even to appease the citizens, since your reign shall last forever.”
His eyes narrow as he leans in closer. “Trying to wile your way out of being chained to my side for eternity, are you, witch?”
Eternity. Does he mean to make me immortal? But of course, he would require access to what he believes to be my level of power for as long as he shall live. And if he knew how weak I have become? What if I tell him how my power is waning? Would he still want me to become his Empress?
“I will produce many heirs, so that my progeny will oversee the regions of the Continent where I do not wish to travel often. For the land is vast, and I will need eyes and ears in every corner. And if one should prove to be a disappointment, I can always sire another.” My stomach sours at the suggestion. “For the history books will be filled with the glory of my reign, from the day of my coronation to the end of time.”
