“I’m sorry, Mia,” Ash sighed.
Remus was glaring at Ashlinn, incredulous. “You had that on you this whole time? You could have ended this whenever you wanted? You treacherous little—”
“O, fuck off, god-botherer,” Ashlinn snarled. “I’m not in this for your glorious Republic and I don’t give a shit about you or your men. If I wanted a trump card up my sleeve, that’s my business. And in case you missed it, it just saved your miserable life. So instead of bleating about it, maybe you should end the girl who just tried to murder you, then go make sure the rest of the Ministry is still under lock and key? Unless you and your merry band of idiots want to accidentally gut them, too?”
Though she stood at least a foot shorter than Remus, Ashlinn stared the justicus down. With a snarl, Remus hefted his blade, stalked toward Mia, flame rippling down its edge.
Mia crawled backward in the dirt. Wracked with pain, unable even to stand. Terror in her veins now, roaring in her temples, anguished that this was how it would end. All the miles and all the years. To see it finish here? Sprawled in the dust of some forgotten shithole, unable at the last even to raise her sword?
This?
Her teeth were gritted. Eyes filled with hateful tears.
Like this?
The light was blinding; no matter where she looked, it was like staring into the suns. She could see only dim silhouettes. Ashlinn standing in front of her, the Light burning bright in her hand. Remus, towering behind her, a lesser light blazing in his fist. Wounded Luminatii, groaning in the dust. Lord Cassius, his terror reaching out to her own.
Never flinch. Never fear.
She shook her head. Staring up at Remus’s silhouette. Determined to look him in the eye. To show no matter how much it hurt, how much her heart named her liar …
“I’m not afraid of you,” she hissed.
She heard a soft chuckle. The lesser light rising high.
“Luminus Invicta, heretic,” Remus said. “I will give your brother your regards.”
The words hit Mia harder than the Trinity’s light. Turned her belly to water. What was he saying? Jonnen was dead. Mia’s mother had said so. That truedark she’d torn the Philosopher’s Stone to pieces, stood on the steps of the Basilica Grande and fallen before this same bastard, this same accursed light. Crying on the battlements afterward, above the place her father died. Mercurio beside her as she whispered.
“It was so bright,” she whispered. “Too bright.”
The old man had smiled. Patted her hand.
“The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow.”
Ashlinn stood in front of her, Trinity blazing in her hand. Remus loomed at her back, sword raised. Behind them both, stretched across the sand and into the justicus’s own, was Mia’s shadow. Black. Writhing. But in the face of that awful light, darker than it had ever been.
She reached out to it. Teeth gritted. Eyes shut. Feeling the darkness without and the darkness within. And clenching her fists, dagger held tight she stepped down
into her own shadow
and out of the justicus’s shadow behind.
His body blocked off the Trinity’s light, the blinding flare rendering him a hulking silhouette. And lashing out with her blade, the blade her mother had held to Scaeva’s throat, the blade Mister Kindly had gifted her in the dark, the blade that had saved her life before, and now again, she buried it to the hilt in Remus’s neck.
The justicus clutched the hole she carved, a fountain of blood spraying between his fingers. Mia staggered away, drenched in red. The light still burning her. Eyes narrowed. Hair draped over her face in tangled drifts as she stumbled and fell.
Remus staggered, sword falling from his grip and quivering in the sand. Both hands to his neck now. Arterial spray hissing through his fingers. Realization dawning in his eyes—she’s killed me, O, God, she’s killed me—turning to fury, and he whirled on the girl, hands outstretched, fingers curled into claws. The blood spurted free, gushing down that barrel chest, those wolfish features draining of all their color. The justicus of the Luminatii Legion took one tottering step, two, and three. Sinking to his knees. Stare locked on the girl, doing her best to crawl away along the sand.
Remus gargled, light fleeing his eyes. And with a heavy thud, his corpse toppled face-first into the dirt, the last feeble beats of his heart drenching the road a deeper red. Just as she’d always dreamed it. Just as she’d always wanted.
Dead.
Ashlinn hung still, horror on her face. At Mia’s back, she felt more shadows gathering, clustered about their owners at the garrison tower’s door.
The Revered Mother.
Solis leaning on her shoulder, bleeding and bruised.
Hush, silent as death, a fallen blade in one clenched fist.
Aalea and Spiderkiller behind him, supporting Mouser between them.
Even though they were beaten and bloodied, not one of the assassins was darkin. Not one cowed by the Trinity in Ashlinn’s hand. And faced with five of the most accomplished murderers in the Itreyan Republic, the girl did what anyone would have done in her position—lust for vengeance be damned.
Ashlinn turned and ran.
Hush and the Ministry staggered from the tower, none in a state to give chase. But with the Trinity now disappearing down the street, Mia found the pain fading, rolling over onto her belly and quietly retching. Turning to Cassius, she crawled to his side, fingers clawing the dust. The Lord of Blades was curled in a ball, clutching his chest, face twisted. Mia murmured softly, pulled his bloody hands away, paling at the sight of the wound. Eclipse was whining, pacing, ears pressed to her skull. Black teeth bared.
“…FOOL CHILD, HELP HIM …!”
“… I—”
“…HELP HIM …!”
Cassius tried to speak. Unable even to breathe. He coughed, sticky red on his lips, clutching Mia’s hand and holding tight. Drusilla hobbled to his side, the other Ministry members sinking to the dirt around him.
“You can’t die,” Mia pleaded. “You promised me answers!”
Cassius grimaced with the pain of it, every muscle in his body tensing, back arching. He fixed Mia in his stare, and she felt it in her bones. Something primordial; crushing gravity, agonizing chill, a terrible, endless rage. Something beyond the hunger and sickness she felt when he was near. Something closer to longing. Like lovers parted. Like an amputee. Like a puzzle, searching for a missing piece of itself.
She wanted to ask him. Who he was. Who she was. If he knew anything of the Darkness outside or the Darkness within. She was so close. She’d waited so long. The questions roiled behind her teeth, waiting for her to breathe them, but Mia found the breath caught in her lungs. Cassius reached up with scarlet hands, pressed his palm to Mia’s cheek. Smearing his blood down her skin. It was still warm, the scent of salt and copper filling the girl’s lungs. The man marked one cheek, then the other, finally smudging a long streak down Mia’s lips and chin. Anointing her; just as he might have in the Hall of Eulogies, if this moment, this ending, this tale, had been a different one.
Anointing her as a Blade.
And with one final sigh, silent as he’d been in life, the Black Prince left it.
Taking Mia’s answers with him.
The shadowwolf ceased her pacing. Lifting her head and filling the air with a heart-wrenching howl. Lying down in the dirt beside Cassius, trying to lick his face with a tongue that couldn’t taste. Pawing his hand with claws that couldn’t touch.
Mister Kindly watched it all silently. No eyes to fill with pity.
The storm winds rolled in off the bay, cold and bitter. The tattered killers hung their heads. Mia took Cassius’s hand, the warmth of his skin fading against hers.
And into the wind, she whispered.
“Hear me, Niah. Hear me, Mother. This flesh your feast. This blood your wine. This gift, this life, this end, our offering to you.”
She sighed.
“Hold him close.”
EPILOGUE