Page 364 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

Five.

In some corner of my mind, I heard the king’s count, but I was falling.

Falling through the ice, through the unforgiving reality that I had snuffed out innocent lives.

And my targets still stood. Untarnished. In control. Enjoying my suffering. Their warriors still fought my people. Still killed them. And I’d sacrificed my soul for nothing.

Six.

Down, down, down, into the ice I buried myself even as my vessel roared.

Even as that hoarse, desperate plea fell silent.

Even as polished shoes stepped into my view. As a rough hand yanked my head up by my hair. I couldn’t even feel the strands tearing free at the roots. His blurred face came in and out of view, bored, indifferent.

“Stay awake, witch, or we start from the top.” He dropped me like something filthy tarnishing his skin, a noise of disgust coming from his throat as I swayed, leaning on the chains so hard they bit through my wrists.

Crack.

The world went black before it blurred back into existence.

They were going to kill me.

Right here.

Against this pole.

Half naked.

And I’d welcome it.

Better me than Fletcher.

Better me.

Eight.

How…

How many…

The energy around me twisted and swelled, the blurred horizon slanting sideways.

Darkness.

Not around the edges of my vision anymore…

Darkness…

Everywhere.

It crawled across the ground like sentient smoke, heedless of the daylight beating down against my ravaged skin.

An eerie silence settled over the onlookers, thick as honey and half as sweet.

Because only one man commanded that kind of anticipation.

I rasped through a rattling breath that burned my windpipe and lifted my face. Through the tears blurring my eyes, I tried to bring him into focus.