Page 209 of A Courage of the Chosen

A forceful shove of my arm, to drive in the knife laced with the powers he sought as his savior, is all it takes. That magic conquers his, while the dagger ruptures Tavish’s heart.

I watch as his chest slows its rise and fall, and I count the beats as they fade away.

Onetwo. Onetwo. Onetwo. One . . . two. One . . . two. One . . . two. One . . .

Tavish’s death is quiet, nondescript, and with no one around to witness it but me, and his long list of atrocities ready to deal his judgment.

The dark threads that existed between his magic and mine grow cold and silent like a dark night in the depths of winter, until they wither away into nothing.

When the twinging in my knees turns into cramping, I fall to my ass on the gravel, staring at Tavish’s body, the pommel of the dagger pointing straight up as the wet stain on his black shirt spreads wider. My magic keeps him restrained until I’m sure he’s really gone, and the sun shifts low in the sky.

I shudder out a long breath, my throat thick with sadness that it came to this. That so many had to die.

But mostly, I feel relief. The genuine kind, that’s bone deep and lifts me on hard-earned wings.

A single tear falls, followed by another.

Over Granny’s funeral pyre, I promised he’d pay with his life, and now that vow is finally fulfilled, the ache I’ve shouldered for so long is a feather drifting away on the breeze.

It’s no longer something that shackles me, and neither is Tavish.

Chapter 62

Elsie

The logs I throw over Tavish’s body are haphazard, but my intention is singular—burn the motherfucker. When there are enough stacked over him, I scramble around, looking for something to ignite a fire.

“Shit,” I curse, when I can’t find anything.

You also have no idea how to start a fire, dumb-ass.

One point to the snarky subconscious.

I could shadow-walk back to the battlefield and retrieve something, but there’s no part of me that wants to leave this meadow without knowing he isn’t getting up again. I heard the last beat of Tavish’s heart, but for my own sanity, I need to see him burn, like I did his father. I need that knowledge that he’s gone and never coming back.

The two flat rocks I choose to rub together to create a bit of friction do absolutely nothing, and I throw them into the lake with more force than necessary.

With my options limited, and my frustration mounting, I’m beginning to think I might have to leave him here, when a small blue spark ignites over the wood covering Tavish from view. Embers rain down from it, littering the logs with hot flecks that I carefully observe.

“Allow me.”

I squeal at the presence that’s suddenly by my side.

Ishbel stands in her Seelie form, blue power dancing from the ends of her fingers. A second spark, and this time the embers that fall ignite, and flames catch in the small bits of tinder I salvaged from the nearby campfire.

It takes time, but with Ishbel’s help, the fire spreads until Tavish’s long body is consumed wholly, and the Seelie goddess and I watch him burn bit by bit. There’s no expelling of Dorche power from him, like his father and the others. He was born with it, and it belonged to him completely in the same way my magic does to me.

The heat licks at my face as we sit on the pebbled shore by the pool, and I remove my breastplate, welcoming the cool air that prickles my overheated skin.

“Thank you,” Ishbel says when the fire recedes enough to satisfy us both.

“For what?” I angle my head toward her.

Ishbel leans in, resting her shoulder on mine. “For saving what I couldn’t.”

The objection is almost past my lips when she holds up her other hand to silence me. “I only bought them time, and because of you, our people are truly free.”

“It wasn’t just me,” I reply, thinking of everyone who played a role in this. The thousands that died, the rebellion that took the fight to the Dorche, and didn’t back down when they were labelled the villains. Of Callahan, and how he’s the real reason why I’m standing here today.