Page 130 of Reap & Sow

The Gateway exploded.

Eda turned her face away as chunks of obsidian flew in all directions and a great, roaring wind blasted through the pews. Windows shattered. Blades exclaimed in shock. The glyph sputtered and died as the entire templehouse filled with a primordial darkness, the howling of an ancient, unknowable storm. But then it was done.

In the stillness that followed, Baelion swayed. Sank to his knees. “No,” he whispered. “No.” His marble face was marred with black burns and blood, but it was his expression that disturbed Eda most of all. For the first time ever, she saw fear.

Kit rose up behind him with her discarded sword.

Eda found her voice. “You are no mortal, Baelion Ansellis. But you will die like one.”

He met her eyes.

Kit swung the blade straight through his brother’s neck.

Thirty-four

The world was a blur.

Blades rushed onto the dais. Grand Marshal Tiernan and High Governor Wolfram spoke with Tenelle in low tones. Eda felt Ben’s hand on her elbow, steadying her, but it was far away and muffled as a waking dream.

The only thing clear was Mr. Night’s head, lying some feet away from his body. His mouth hung open in a half snarl, eyes dull and pale as morning mist. Already he was crumbling to dust, as though he were made of sand.

Dead. He’s dead, and we’re free. Lawrie might yet live.

Across the dais, what was left of Florian Fane was quickly covered by an abandoned coat—out of respect for the late bishop or to spare them all the grisly sight he made, Eda wasn’t sure.

The Shaws would not die tonight. Not by the bishop’s hand, nor the demon’s that had been their master. Eda had imagined this moment at length, expecting to feel an odd amalgamation of melancholy and jubilant relief. Instead, she only wanted to lie down and sleep for a hundred years.

Her neck prickled. She turned.

Kit stood favoring his right side, hand pressed to his stomach wound. He was bruised and bloody. His jerkin was torn open, hair askew. Tenelle was not much better. She used her sword as a walking aid as she talked to him, her arm cradled in a makeshift sling. Kit nodded, listening, but his eyes repeatedly drifted toward Eda. The other Blades gave him a wide berth. He’d wisely adopted his mortal form, and no one made to attack him. Instead, they crowded around the ashen pile of Mr. Night’s remains, as though he might reform and leap up again at any moment.

“Look sharp,” Ben said.

Wolfram and Tiernan approached. Eda straightened.

“Eda and Benjamin Shaw.” Wolfram looked for all the world as though this were a simple business introduction. “Meet Grand Marshal Tiernan. Myself and Commander Tenelle have relayed the necessary facts of your involvement to him.”

He leveled her with a deliberate look. Eda understood. Really, Governor. As if I’d discuss your demonic Pact with the man.

“I’m led to understand you two were used as scapegoats by Bishop Florian,” Tiernan said. “That this Gateway was never yours, and you claim no power over the fiends. Is that correct?”

Ben’s fingers twitched around her arm. “That’s right, Marshal,” he said.

“You are guilty, however, of escaping the Order’s custody. We have you and that demon over there to blame, Miss Shaw.”

Eda had no idea what his calm demeanor meant when paired with such a sour look. Shouldn’t they already be bound and dragged away? “I—yes, sir. My brothers were innocent. I felt I had to—”

“Your feelings are of no consequence to matters of law.” He pursed his lips. “Nevertheless. The High Governor has made it quite clear that the destruction of this Gateway and of those responsible for the terror on our streets would not have been possible without you. He insists that all charges against you and your kin be dropped. I’m inclined to disagree.”

Eda waited, breathless. Wolfram held his hands behind his back.

Tiernan exhaled. “Alas, it seems I am outnumbered. Word of you and your brother’s so-called heroism here today is catching, and I do not wish to rile the city further. These have been some hard weeks for us all. Your family will walk freely in Blackbridge. But,” he pressed as she and Ben exchanged stunned glances, “that demon has killed many good Blades. It must be gone by sundown, or I will see it meet a far worse end. And if I hear of any further associations with the demonic on your account, Shaws, then you shall be held to severe and swift judgment. Do I make myself clear?”

They hurried to agree.

He left to bark orders at the Blades. Mr. Night’s crumbling body was to be taken to Fell Keep, where it would be burned, along with what remained of the dead fiends and the ruined Gateway. The Patriarch had already been ushered there for his own safety, with the clerics rounded up to join him.

Wolfram observed the buzz of activity with a raised brow. “I’d say you both got off lightly.”