Page 116 of The City Of Fractured Memory

But I can’t leave her. I won’t.

Fear squeezes my heart painfully in my chest, my breathing becoming more rapid as I desperately try to find a way I can get everyone out of this alive. Stryx. My Stryx. The one who laughed in the dark corners of our threadbare home, who turned my chaos into comfort, who carried my burdens without once caring for the weight of them.

“I love you,” I choke out. “I was so alone…” I stumble on the words as a shuddering sob wracks through me, my whole body shaking. “I was so alone, until you came and reminded me what hope is, and I refuse to give you up. The Gods can’t have you Stryx. You’re mine!”

A small smile pulls on the corner of her mouth as her shoulders dip in acceptance of her fate and she continues her frantic whispering, loud enough now for me to hear.

“I am brave,” she mutters, squeezing her eyes tight and wincing against the blade as he presses hard again. “I am strong, I am brave, I am strong, I am brave…”

“No, no, no, no,” I gasp, tears pooling in my eyes.

Vesper opens the Codex and starts a chant of her own, reading from the ancient manuscript. The seers and cloaked figures surrounding us join her, their deep voices reverberating through the cavern in a language I don’t recognise.

“Riven, we have to do something. They’re still cursed right? Can’t you make it worse or—or use our magic together?” I feel like I’m clutching at straws, desperate for a way out, but his answering grimace only confirms my fears.

“The curse doesn’t work like that, I have no control over it–”

“But Xavier said–”

“Whatever he said was no doubt a lie, Octavia. I can’t do anything. If they are channeling the Veyne, their magic will be strong enough to keep the symptoms at bay. As for the rest of them–” his eyes dart around us, calculating our odds “–we are severely outnumbered, even if it got that far. The second we start to fight our way out they could just slit her throat before we even make it anywhere near her. I—fuck. I don’t know what to do–”

One of the men holding him back punches him in the stomach to silence him and I stand there uselessly, my gaze flicking between Riven and Stryx, fear paralyzing me, preventing me from taking action. I could try using my magic, but if I couldn’t take on the twenty council members then I’ve got no chance here.

But I can’t let them do this. I’ve seen this before, knelt in blood before. A body gasping, life spilling out in hot rivers, eyes wide with the shock of dying. I failed that Kaelvara then. I was useless then, too, trembling hands and the cruel, cold truth consuming me that no amount of cleverness or deductions can stitch torn flesh back together. I swore I’d never let it happen again. Yet now history is repeating itself.

The chanting persists around us while Stryx continues to mutter to herself over and over, her voice steadily becoming more and more hysterical.

My choice is made. I won’t let her die for me.

“Give her back, Xavier, and I’ll take her place as your sacrifice,” I shout over the repetitive chanting, and I take another step forward. I hear a commotion behind me and turn to find Riven finally forcing his way out of the guards’ holds before lunging forward and wrapping his arms around my waist. He pulls me tight against his chest, half lifting me off my feet as he drags me backwards away from Stryx.

“No!” I scream, writhing and yanking against his arms, but his grip remains firm.

“I can’t let you do this,” Riven begs into my ear. His voice cracks and I wonder if he knows the consequences of making this choice, if it’s killing him as much as me. Despite his unyielding embrace, I still struggle on, trying my best to free myself though I know it’s of no use. My shoulder starts to grind against its socket as I try to break free and I know there’s no chance of me getting out of this without dislocating something. But I don’t care.

“I am brave, I am strong,” Stryx continues to chant, tears flowing down her face, but her shoulders set tall and firm as she accepts her fate. “I am brave for my friends. I am strong for my friends….”

“No, please,” I cry, begging Riven, Xavier, anyone to comply.

Vesper looks on at my struggle with a straight face, then rolls her eyes. “I grow bored of this game. I guess you’ll have to do after all.”

My scream is lost in my throat as I watch her snatch the blade from Xavier and slice deep across Stryx’s neck, blood spraying in an arc around them, before she thrusts her lifeless body to the altar.

Forty-Seven

The chanting stops abruptly as Xavier turns his back on us and faces the mirror with his bloody arms spread wide, ready to embrace the God they’ve so cruelly sacrificed my friend for. Though I don’t miss the tension still lining his shoulders and the tremor in his hands as he turns from Stryx’s body, his mouth set in a grim line.

Around me, silence suddenly ensues, everything feeling like it’s happening in slow motion as a piercing ringing now fills my ears. I can hear my blood pumping, the wetness of my tears tracking through the grime on my face, and chaos around me slows as my blackening vision narrows on the lifeless body of my friend.

Riven releases me from his hold, and time instantly renews its usual pace, the overwhelming din returning in full force as I sprint towards her body and slam to my knees beside her, the pain from my joints barely registering as I pull her into my arms.

Xavier’s body starts to convulse as he starts a chant of his own, his voice split into many, the Faceless God starting to take him piece by piece. I should be watching him. I should be seeing the end of the world as I know it. But all I see is Stryx’s eyes, wide and fading, trusting me when I don’t deserve it.

“No,” I choke, and it comes out more like an animal’s sound than a word. My hands press against the wound, slippery, useless. Always useless. Warmth pours over my palms, and with it, memory floods me—the last time, the victim who stared at me as the light left them. That same helplessness digs its claws into my ribs. I can’t breathe. I can’t lose her.

Not her.

But I’m not the same woman I was then. I have Echofae magic in my blood…and The Veyne. That wicked magic that eats pieces of me with every use. I swore I’d never use it again, but what good are memories, what good is humanity, if Stryx isn’t in it?