I must have screamed. I couldn’t actually recall opening my mouth, but eventually my ears caught up and I realized that more than one shriek had erupted from me. As Francesca’s slender form went still, another sound joined in with my cries. It was the sound of a wounded animal. The unusual ‘yelp’ jolted me and I managed to gain a sliver of composure. It took me another moment to rein in some of my horror and attempt to wet my dry lips with a flick of my tongue. It didn’t work. Moisture seemed to have fled my mouth.
The yelp sounded again; I swiveled my head to see which of the sacred animals had been injured, but Que distracted me before I could. The Walker stumbled back, thrusting my aunt away and dropping to his knees.
It was then I realized that the yelping cries – which I’d mistakenly thought were coming from one of our guides – were coming from Que. His voice rose above all the other noises to echo his agony across the land. What had Francesca done to him?
I skidded down beside my aunt.
Brace was with me, although he remained standing guard, looming over the top of us. He must have been worried Que would come at me from behind while I was distracted. Brace was beyond tense, features hard as his gaze locked in on his father.
My focus was on Francesca. I wrapped her up in my free arm and gently lifted her slight form toward me. When had she become so frail? There was no fat on her body, just skin coating bone. She was a faded version of the bossy soothsayer who had first told me of my quest and ordered me around. I held my breath as I turned her over, shifting white hair off her features. Her pale face was the last thing to come into view.
A sob caught in my throat. Translucent skin surrounded by masses of white hair. Eyes were open and lifeless. The usual stark white of her iris and pupil looked almost blue. She was gone, her shell empty of energy. Just like a candle that had had its wick severed and was now nothing more than a lump of wax. Her light had finally gone out.
My fists tightened in the spare material of her flowing white shirt, floods of anger and sorrow zipping through every part of me and into my heart. I might not have loved Francesca the way I loved my mother, but it still felt personal. I still mourned her death.
And I knew Lallielle would be devastated.
“Oh, Frannie.”
The sad voice lifted my face.
Josian was there, shaking his head. The true tragedy here was that Francesca’s soul was now trapped in Que, and he would be able to access her power.
My tears which had been hovering abated as pure, white-hot anger blasted through me. My body hardened, and the softer emotions were shoved down into a spot that I’d have to come back to later.
I gave Francesca one last hug before gently releasing her to the ground and pulling myself up. Josian reached out and took my hand, squeezing it before he leaned down and scooped up the white-shrouded soothsayer.
He would take her back to Lallielle. I wouldn’t be there to hear the cries of my mother, but I knew Josian would look after her. He would comfort her. My job was to deal with the murderous asshole before me.
Que was still kneeling. His mournful yelping cries were less vocal, but I could still hear them. His eyes were closed and I wondered what was happening behind them. The only reason Francesca would have sacrificed herself was if she thought this would turn the tide of the fight. So what had she done to him?
The half-Walker females gathered closer. Our sacred animals stood on the periphery, all of them continuing to fight against the Seventines’ army. Making sure this spot was kept clear of all battle. I heard the yells as Samuel and Quarn attempted to curtail the curious onlookers from our own army. But I did not focus on any of that.
“The souls are angry,” Eva said. Her solemn expression zoomed in on Que. “They want to be freed. You have to release them, Abby.”
Her lashes fluttered down then, hiding her golden-brown eyes from view, as if she could no longer stand to see the trapped souls. Her face remained downcast, and I knew that not being able to help the souls which called to her was devastating.
I wasn’t sure I would be able to do any more than she had, but I hadn’t forgotten what Francesca had said. After everything that had happened, her kidnapping, torture and then being forced into that energy room in the dark mountains, she’d finally had another vision. The last one she ever would. My gut was telling me to trust her words, even though my mind was screaming out at the insanity of touching Que. The dude was poison. He killed with his mere presence.
I won’t let you do this, Red. Brace rarely gave me orders, or ultimatums.