Hopeless Sacrifice

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Hopeless Sacrifice Page 6

by A. K. Koonce


  Ryder, Darrio, and Dax’s boots stand around me, but I don’t look up at them. I stay hunched over for a long while, breathing in deep breaths of the fresh and clean air. I slowly pull my wings in, knowing they’ll heal faster within me. My body becomes weighted with the magic caressing the wings within.

  Darrio lowers himself, his palm pushing up and down my spine.

  No one speaks.

  They let me dwell on my choices and my actions.

  Until he arrives.

  “Congratulations.” Loki’s voice sounds entirely too pleased.

  I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and I stand to face the demented god before me.

  “No one has beaten Druw … ever.” Wide eyes wait for me to claim my prize.

  It would be a cursed prize.

  It was already a dark thing to ask for.

  Death magic won’t save us. Especially cursed death magic.

  Whatever Loki gives me will not be a gift at all.

  I’d end up just like that fae who asked for eternal life and got it.

  “Thanks.” I step back from him, my shoulder hitting Ryder’s chest.

  “Are you ready to receive your request?” He holds his hands out, waiting to give me just what I asked for.

  Baldur and Viola shudder in at Loki’s side, but neither of them speak. The three of them wait patiently.

  This was a waste of time. We gained nothing by being here. I screwed up once again.

  “I think we’re ready to leave,” I say carefully.

  Daxdyn nods continuously like it’s the smartest thing I’ve ever said.

  Loki’s eyes flash with interest. It’s like seeing lightning strike through the darkest night.

  “You are an interesting little mortal, Zakara Storm.” His fingers lace together. “I don’t think you are the type of woman to change her mind. But know this, you will never have another chance at the destroying power I could give you. And you will not win this war without that kind of power.”

  His thin lips tip up into a haunting smile just before the wind carries him away. His features flake away like ash until he’s gone entirely.

  Regret swirls through my chest.

  I had a chance at power that would end this war before it had even begun, and I passed for my own selfish reasons.

  “It isn’t selfish.” Viola’s soft tone demands my attention.

  It is selfish. If I had the nerve to let Loki’s magic destroy me from the inside out, then everyone’s lives would be simpler.

  “You haven’t even considered if there is someone else who would help you.” Baldur’s deep tone has hidden meaning.

  I peer up at the beautiful man before me. Is he really as kind as he seems? Or is he the same as Loki?

  “What is it you want, Baldur?” My arms fold across my chest, and despite his kind appearance, I can’t find it in me to trust him willingly.

  “I want nothing.” He shrugs his wide shoulders. Still I stare daggers at him. “There are some mortals we relate to on a deeper level. There are some we want badly to help even if we cannot.” His attention, as always, is solely on me. “Your path is much like my own. Sometimes fate rests a little heavier on some people’s shoulders than others. I wish it was different for you. I wish life was different. I see that familiar struggling ambition within you. It’s there because your father is not. You have the will to win this war, but not the power.”

  His words hit hard within me.

  He’s right. I know he is.

  “So help me.” It’s a quiet and pleading request.

  His eyes soften as he looks at me as if he’ll never see me again.

  “I already have.”

  Confusion and shock storm through me. My lips part but he doesn’t let me speak.

  “Take a walk with Viola. It’ll calm you.”

  A walk. With my boyfriend’s ex. Yes, that sounds very relaxing.

  “Come, Zakara.” Her whispered words are not a question at all. And she doesn’t wait as she starts to walk up the path ahead.

  Darrio and Daxdyn exchange glances and I look to Ryder for a hesitating second before following after Viola.

  A winding path of smooth bricks guides our way. A sparkling effect gleams off the bricks as the warm sunlight shines down. The ends of Viola’s thin dress sway against the ground as we walk and I find myself comparing our differences.

  She’s soft curves with a deadly smile. Alluring but terrifying all at once.

  Not a thing like me.

  Or so I tell myself.

  Small white flowers dot down the braid that’s pulled over her shoulder. When she turns to me, I hold her gaze, my head tipping higher.

  A stupidly strong sense of confidence streams through me as I hold the powerful goddess’s gaze.

  “We’ve been watching you.” Her eyes shine with an unseen smile.

  The eerie statement doesn’t chill me like it should. I’ve always known the gods watch us. Especially now. Perhaps not as closely as they should. For if they did, my father wouldn’t have died protecting me.

  The gods do not do their jobs as sufficiently as they should.

  “And what have you seen?” I don’t cower away from the power I feel rolling off of her small frame.

  Her attention drifts over my features as her head begins to shake back and forth.

  “A headstrong child who grew up to be a headstrong woman.” Her hands fold in front of her as she starts to walk farther into the beautiful, blooming garden. “A damaged woman unsure of herself, but so sure of the world around her. A beautiful fae who can’t seem to make a choice between the most loyal of men.”

  Her simple assessment of my life sets my nerves into an angry frenzy.

  So she watched me and judged me. She doesn’t understand the feelings I’ve felt. The love and loss I’ve experienced.

  “There will be more.” At the sound of her vague statement, I stop in my tracks.

  “More what?”

  “There will be more love and loss to come, Zakara.” The glinting look in her eyes makes my heart stumble. “I haven’t felt your feelings, no. But I do know what your path will bring.” Her detached smile makes my jaw clench tighter. How can she be so happy as she tells me more lives will be lost? “There’s a fire within you. And there is magic to match it.”

  I try to find some source of help in her words. Something. There must be something this infuriating woman can give us to assist this helpless cause.

  “It isn’t helpless. Nothing ever is. You of all people should know that. The Hopeless will always know that.”

  I hate how much she’s in my head, forcing me to rethink all my thoughts before they’re thought.

  “Do you want my help, Zakara Storm?”

  Pushing aside my irrational irritation, I nod.

  Her hand extends to me, palm up toward the deep blue skies.

  White, fuming smoke drifts through the air, pooling within the palm of her outstretched hand.

  Crisp white. The color of the heavens. A sign of purity. The symbol of innocence. Nothing at all ominous or threatening.

  And yet, the magic within my veins scurries away from it, demanding I step back from the gently swirling smoke.

  “What is that?” My gaze never leaves the magic in her hand.

  “It’s the Gift of Sacrifice.”

  Caution is all I have with these gods.

  “What does it do?” My uncertainty wavers through my tone.

  Her eyes flash with unseen power.

  “I shouldn’t offer you anything. You’ve been blessed more than any other. I shouldn’t even offer you prayers of safe travels, let alone something as powerful as this.”

  Hesitation fills my chest, pushing up my throat and keeping me silent.

  Ryder trusts this woman. He asked for her above all others.

  “Do you want it or not?”

  She hasn’t tormented us the way Loki has. She’s been kind. Even if I thought she’d be awful, she was nothing but polite to
us.

  I swallow hard, and I’m speaking before I can even second-guess the danger of the gift.

  “Yes.”

  A malicious smile parts her lips and her palm slams against my chest so fast I barely see it. Fire burns through me, swarming my lungs and drilling through me hard enough to make me gasp a painful breath.

  And then … total euphoric energy tingles through my veins before settling warmly in my heart.

  The Gift of Sacrifice.

  It’s just as painful and beautiful as it sounds.

  Chapter Ten

  New Haven

  Viola’s wide eyes eat up my every changing emotion.

  “It hurts, yes?”

  I’m still wincing as the energy swirls calmly in my chest.

  Fucking goddess asking if it hurts as if she’s ever felt a drop of pain.

  “We feel pain, Zakara. Pain and pleasure and everything in between.” The smooth sensation of her palm against my knuckles makes my spine stiffen. “Be the power that guides them. That inspires them. That saves them.”

  Darrio’s heavy boots pull my attention away from her demanding words. His stormy eyes shift from my hand that I’m clutching to my chest to my other hand that’s held in the goddess’s.

  “Everything … okay here?” Hard, shifting eyes take in her every move as if the fae might strike this powerful goddess down for causing me harm.

  I remain hunched over, trying to find a breath of air.

  “Everything is as okay as we can hope.” A light lilt kisses her soft words.

  Gods, why does everything she say make a demon want to claw its way up my throat with snarky, shitty retorts.

  “Deep down, you’re not as angry as you seem.” She tilts her head at me and my awful thoughts. “These men bring out the best in you.”

  That –she is right about that.

  Ryder and Daxdyn walk slowly up behind Darrio. Ryder’s uneasy attention drifts between us, his hands held in his pockets.

  Baldur steps up quietly, pushing past the three men. A small smile reaches his eyes. I stand to meet the intriguing god. I still don’t know anything about Baldur, but I’m certain he’s the closest thing to a friend that I have here. He doesn’t speak a word as he pulls out what I thought I’d destroyed.

  My sword gleams like new, catching the sunlight and shining it all around.

  “My sword.” I swallow hard as my fingers wrap around the hilt of it. The metal’s smooth beneath my touch, as if it hasn’t had a single taste of combat before.

  “I thought you might … need it.” His rumbling timber is low and calming.

  When I look up at him a smile is on my lips, and his kind gaze sinks right into me.

  “Thank you.”

  Ryder, Darrio, and Dax all look at the god as if he’s just offered me a glass of poison to drink down.

  I clear my throat, shooting them all a glare hidden with a smile.

  Their hard looks turn slowly away from the kind god.

  Ryder shifts his attention even further, turning to Viola.

  “There is one more thing, Vi.”

  Her pretty eyes settle on the prince.

  “You want me to get your army into the mortal realm? All nine hundred and thirty-two of them. That’s a small number in comparison. All the greatest wars had thousands at their disposal. Nations with as many as millions waiting to defend their country.” She still holds my hand with a gentle touch.

  “Well there’s that dragon horse too.” Daxdyn’s voice trails off in thought.

  “The gift of the gods rallied only nine hundred and thirty-two.” That asinine smile of hers is still spread wide across her features.

  Nine hundred and thirty-two. I’ve never thought so much about a number before. It is a small amount to win a war, but it is a massive amount to lose in a war.

  But we’re not setting out with the intention of losing.

  “So, you’ll send us then?” My gaze rises, meeting hers with intensity held in my eyes.

  The smile softens, becoming more genuine.

  Only a small second passes.

  “Of course.”

  Finally. Finally, I like her.

  Just in time for her to whirl us away.

  ***

  The goddess’s magic isn’t like the chaotic shuddering power Ryder possesses. Maybe it’s because we’re being sent through realms instead of space, but I don’t feel a single thing. Numbness sinks into me as a darkness fills my sight.

  Until we’re spit out on the other side. Nine hundred and thirty-two soldiers, one dragon horse, and a few Hopeless fae leaders land in a heap on the ground in the mortal realm. Pain stabs through my shoulder the moment I hit the earth.

  Welcome back to the mortal realm. Enjoy your stay.

  Rain pelts down from the dark, cloudy heavens. The sleet stings against my skin, and for a few seconds, I just lie there. Smoke fills my lungs just as it has my entire life in this world. I had forgotten about it. During my short stay within the beautiful Hopeless realm I’d forgotten the destroyed world I left behind.

  “Let’s set up in the clearing just over there.” Darrio points toward an empty space among the forest, his head slightly downturned against the stinging rain. “Kara, do you know where we are? How far the kingdom is from here?” He kneels at my side as I lay in the mud at his feet.

  I’m a defeated little pile of hopelessness. I was really aiming I’d go unnoticed for at least a few minutes.

  Zero breaks. I’m beginning to find there are zero breaks when you’re a leader.

  Stiffly, I stand, attempting to look like the gift from the gods that they just spit out.

  Through the heavy sheet of rain, I peer into the distance, trying to determine which way the smoke is coming from. The weather is harsh, but the sun always rises on the kingdom, it always shines down on the source of our destruction.

  The sun is nearly setting now, it can almost be seen through the pounding rain and the heavy smoke and the dense clouds. Faint rays of white sunlight cut through the billowing, dark clouds.

  “We’re in New Haven. The coast is just to the east. Juvar is just beyond that.” I point the way and his attention lingers in the distance as if he can see the fiery kingdom clearly.

  New Haven. Of all the places Viola could have deposited us, she dropped us into New Haven.

  There has to be a reason for it.

  The cold rain tingles against my face as I peek up at the heavens.

  “You okay?” Dax’s long fingers tangle slickly with mine and he does a once-over of my body, seemingly checking for any damage from our fall.

  His voice is sweet, concerned. It’s too sweet, really. There’s a reason Darrio is a commander and Daxdyn doesn’t possess a single scar.

  He isn’t built for war.

  Part of me wants to shield him from whatever tomorrow brings. He’s capable. In a fight, his powerful strength can hold his own. But in a war …

  “I’m okay,” I say in the quietest voice.

  “Let’s set up there.” Darrio’s orders cut through my thoughts. “We’ll head to the sea once the storm passes. We’re not risking our lives on a choppy sea filled with nix.”

  The nix. Are the creatures here already? So much time slipped by in the Realm of the Gods but hardly any at all has really passed. Time halted while we were there and now I have no idea what we’re up against. I don’t know if they’ve already consumed this world and moved on to the Hopeless realm, or if they’re still building their strength in Juvar.

  If they’re here, I want to check on my people. The mortals are not safe here. They need distance between them and the death that’s coming.

  “I’m going on ahead.” I meet Darrio’s serious gaze. “I’m heading to the village near the sea.”

  My aunt’s village.

  “Those people need to be evacuated. They can’t stay here. It isn’t safe.” I pause and Daxdyn nods in agreement, but Ryder begins to shake his head ‘no’ while Darrio just stares down on m
e. Darrio seems to be considering me intently.

  “You’re right,” Darrio finally says as rain trails down his face and beard. “You and Ryder can shudder on ahead. The soldiers who have the ability will meet you there. Warn them, evacuate them. The rest of us will be right behind you.”

  I consider the small island of Juvar. The hundred or so innocent families who live within the kingdom. I was one of those innocent families when my father was alive. We lived there out of necessity for his job as a royal swordsman. There are only two types of people who dwell within the kingdom; privileged people who work for the king and people who are too poor to have a choice.

  My stomach dips low, wishing they had a fighting chance in all of this. They’re already gone though. Probably within the first hour Tristan arrived.

  His own people. They never had a chance.

  I swallow hard.

  Ryder slips his hand through mine, pulling at my swarming thoughts. Water trails down our fingertips, and for a few seconds he only stares at me. Rain clings to his lashes, sliding down his face like tears.

  Death can cause an ugliness to crawl out of all of us.

  The Traveler’s words echo in my mind as I stare up at the worry that lines his beautiful face.

  What did he see in his travels?

  He bends slightly, his other hand skimming up my neck before cradling my jaw.

  A questioning whisper hovers against my lips, unsure if it’ll really be spoken because the answer will surely be avoided once again.

  “Ryder, what did you s—”

  His damp lips press gently against mine. The kiss silences my question. The sweetness of it consumes me with an aching fear that presses against my chest.

  As my lashes flutter closed, his magic burns through me. I feel my body begin to fade.

  I don’t admit it, but I’m afraid I already know what he saw.

  That fear clings to me as he rips us away from the world.

  Chapter Eleven

  Old Friends

  We land in the middle of the village just in front of Saint’s Inn; the most prosperous whore house in all the land. Or so my aunt says.

 

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