CHAPTER 30
ISIAH
W
hen the blindfold lifts, the sudden brightness stings my eyes. I wish I could shield them from the light, but my hands are bound behind my back. At least Reagan kept his word and left the iron cuffs loose, though they still burn against my skin.
The lack of magic in the air tells me we’ve crossed into the human realm, likely wherever Niethal believes the border of Anaeris is. Kings Holford, Briar, and Tullid, and their guards, about twenty males, stand in an open field. Reagan and the Selen guards stand beside me. But who I’m searching for and don’t find is Grace. I check the bond and sense she’s fine, aside from her anxiety.
Before me is a white farmhouse with a large wraparound deck. It’s well kept for how old it is. From the woodwork, it must be over two hundred years old. Behind the house are dense woods spread off into the distance with no end in sight.
Based on what I know, we are likely somewhere outside Trimton or Jasperburg. Those are the human towns that would’ve been close to Anaeris. My gut tells me we are in Trimton because so far, everything related to the city has been connected to Grace.
The wind shifts, and suddenly her scent is everywhere. And not just a hint, but as if this is where she spends a great deal of time. I chuckle to myself.
Of course her house would be on the border of Anaeris, because whynot?
The front door opens then, and Niethal and Grace walk out. There’s an emptiness in her, and I brush the bond to check, but she pushes me out. She avoids my gaze as well. I yank at thedamncuffs and the cold iron bites my skin, followed by a wave of nausea.
Grace’s eyes finally meet mine across the field as she rubs her wrists, mirroring my pain.
She moves to come off the porch, but Niethal grabs her elbow and whispers to her. Whatever he says prevents her from taking another step. She stares at me with pleading eyes.
Something isn’t right.
Something in our plan has changed.
I hope Thom and the others escaped, so we can meet them and regroup after Grace performs the ritual, assuming it doesn’t kill her. Crossing will no longer be possible once the borders are gone, so putting distance between Niethal and us will be more difficult. But space is precisely what we need to keep him from marrying Grace. Even thinking the words has bile rising in my throat.
Reagan stands behind me, creating space between me and the other guards for when I make my move. He believes I’m going to stop Grace from performing the ritual, and if it were solely up to me, I would. As I stare at her on the porch, I keep imagining the knife at her waist piercing her chest, and I don’t think I can stand by and watch.
She might be upset if I intervene, but she’ll be alive, and her anger is something I’m willing to risk. We can think of another plan, another way to free her from this mess. Niethal wouldn’t call in their bargain, not when he needs her alive to perform the ritual. Killing her would do nothing for him.
Thinking about him has shadows stirring under my skin. I will pay him back a hundredfold for what he’s taken from me: my parents, freedom, and now, potentially Grace.
Niethal stands with his chin high, eyes gleaming as he scans the field where everyone has gathered as if we are already his subjects. “My fellow kings, once we open Anaeris and regain our relics, the humans of Esmarae will, at last, take their rightful place in the hierarchy of this world. For far too long, they’ve pretended to have power. It’s time we changed that.” He reaches around Grace’s waist and pulls the knife from its sheath, handing it to her.
I creep forward, inch by inch. I won’t stand here and watch as she does this. Fuck the plans we made. I don’t care about taking the relics or saving the human realm. Not if the cost to do so is her life.
She steps forward, blade trembling in her hand, and my heart plummets.
“No.” The single word is barely audible even to my ears.
This iswrong. Something about this feels wrong.
Her eyes meet mine as the connection between us opens, her words a warm caress across my mind.“Now and always, Isiah.”
“No!” The strangled cry tears from my throat as my feet fly toward her.
Reagan feigns a lunge, and I evade him as he intended. But with my hands cuffed behind my back, I’m off balance and stumble before regaining my footing.
In the seconds of my misstep, Grace’s magic ignites, the ancient language sliding off her tongue as she lifts the dagger into the air, poised for her chest.
A hundred feet stand between us, and I run faster than I ever have. I run as if my life depends on it because it does. If I lose her, I lose every good thing I’ve only just found. My life will end with hers.
A deep and painful sorrow washes through the bond, and her voice cracks.“I’m so sorry.”
As her words sound in my mind, the knife plunges into her chest and pierces her heart. Her eyes widen before the blade slips from her grasp, clattering to the ground as she collapses.