by Coco Ma
“I cut it off,” Harry said quietly.
Asterin swallowed visibly. “What?”
“I heal very quickly. So I cut all of the dyed skin off.”
Asterin stared at Harry. “Why would you do that?”
That drew a wry smile to Harry’s lips. “Because my other option was killing you.”
The princess huffed. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because—”
“So you did kill all the people in Corinthe,” Rose said softly.
Harry’s voice died in his throat. They all waited for him to respond, but he found that he couldn’t.
Horror dawned on Orion’s features. “Oh, Immortals. You—you killed all those people in the village,” he breathed. “It was you.”
Asterin circled around him, out of sight. “Harry,” she whispered into his ear, something broken in the way she said his name. “Did you?”
Harry closed his eyes and swallowed. I don’t want to hear your excuses, or your apologies. “Yes.”
Silence.
Followed by the high whine of steel unsheathing.
“Asterin,” Quinlan barked, voice filled with alarm. “What are you—Asterin!”
And then Asterin plunged her sword into Harry’s back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Orion stared at the end of Amoux, protruding through Harry’s middle. He could hear himself yelling. Harry had bowed over, soundless. Still, the demon struggled to hold in a groan as Asterin slowly withdrew Amoux, only to plunge it back in a second time, silver blood soaking his clothes and pooling around his knees. After the fourth time, Orion could tell that Harry was fighting to stay conscious.
“Asterin, stop!” Rose tried to wrest Asterin back. “You’ll kill him!”
“I won’t,” Asterin said calmly, shaking her off. “Look, he’s already healing.”
Indeed, the moment Asterin pulled Amoux out of Harry’s back, the blood from the wound seemed to clot. Still, it didn’t make it any easier for Orion to watch Amoux cleave through flesh and bone, again and again. Even though the wounds healed easily enough, from Harry’s expression, no blow hurt any less.
Bile rose in Orion’s throat.
This was Harry, after all.
No, he thought. This is the demon.
“How could you?” Asterin asked, voice shaking. “How? They were innocent. Tell me why you couldn’t just end their lives, instead of torturing them like you did, and I’ll stop, I promise.”
“Torture?” Harry managed to gasp out. “I didn’t torture anyone.”
“Then why were they mutilated? Oozing black blood, missing the skin on their faces—”
“I didn’t do that.”
“Then who in hell did?” Asterin yelled, ramming Amoux into him with such force that the hilt slammed against his back and rocked him onto his hands.
“It doesn’t matter. I deserve this either way,” he wheezed, spitting blood into the grass.
Asterin pulled Amoux out of him in one smooth stroke and walked around to his front. Her fingers jerked his chin up. “Tell me.” When he still didn’t respond, she struck him across the face. “Tell me!”
Orion closed his eyes, unable to watch any longer. He deserves it, he thought. But in his mind, he could only see that warm smile, hear the peaceful, steady background chop chop chop during their conversations while Harry diced vegetables with his silly floral apron tied around his waist, could only remember going down into the cellar to talk about the things he didn’t know how to talk about with the others—
“They were already dying,” Harry said at last. Orion’s eyes snapped open. “She poisoned them. The Woman. Garringsford. When she brought me to Corinthe, she poisoned the well.”
A choked noise came from Asterin’s throat. “What do you mean?”
“There was a well in Corinthe,” Harry said, and Orion remembered it—remembered how strangely undamaged it had been in the face of all the other destruction. “She drank from it. Something dark leaked from her and into the water. I had no idea what it would do. When I passed Corinthe a few days later, the villagers had gone into a rabid fever, blindly slaughtering their own neighbors. The water rotted them from inside out. I thought … I thought it would be a mercy to end their suffering.”
Asterin released her vice-hold on the demon and drove Amoux into the ground, rubbing her face with silver-flecked hands. Orion watched the fight drain out of her.
“And the thirty Axarian guards?” Eadric asked. “Were they in misery as well?”
“What guards?” Harry asked, blinking in confusion.
Eadric’s hand twitched toward his sword, as if he wanted to take a turn at a stab or two. “The queen’s men. The guards sent to kill you. Who never came back because you killed them instead.”
Harry shook his head. “I never saw a single human even step inside this forest before all of you came. I swear it on my life.”
“But the Axarian shield,” the captain insisted. He looked to Asterin and Orion for support. “The one that the messenger brought in, remember? It was almost completely destroyed, melted through. Scorched to a crisp—”
“Forgive me, Eadric,” Harry cut in. “But I think I’d remember if I could breathe fire.”
Quinlan turned to Asterin. “Another one of Garringsford’s lies?”
Asterin’s hands dropped back to her sides. “Most likely.”
“But where did the soldiers go?” Eadric demanded incredulously. “They couldn’t have just vanished!”
“Garringsford has control over the military’s comings and goings,” said Asterin. “For all we know, they might be back at the palace.”
Orion sat down heavily, ignoring the wetness of Harry’s blood seeping into his trousers. He forced himself to face Harry. “So let me get this straight … Garringsford summoned you from the Immortal Realm and ordered you to kill us.”
“No,” Harry said. The demon met Asterin’s gaze. “She ordered me to kill you. And whoever got in my way … except for Luna.”
Luna’s eyes widened. “Me? Why?”
“She said you were important to the queen.”
Eadric snarled suddenly. “So why haven’t you killed us yet?”
“Because I don’t want to kill you, damn it!” Harry yelled. Eadric started forward, but Rose grabbed him by the wrist, holding him back. “I don’t want to kill you,” he whispered hoarsely, and Orion’s heart cracked. Harry looked up at him, then Eadric, then Asterin. “Any of you.” He exhaled. “When I first met you, I thought I could. But the more time I spent in your company, the more I realized that I couldn’t do it. That I wouldn’t do it, no matter what it meant for me.”
“What power does Garringsford have over you?” Quinlan asked.
Harry shook his head. “Not Garringsford. King Eoin, the God of Shadow.” His lip curled back. “He is my … owner. I must follow his orders, and he wanted me to follow Garringsford’s orders because of her ‘assets’—as in control over the Axarian army.”
“Eoin,” Rose breathed. “What could he want with an army?”
“I have no idea,” said Harry. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s something I can’t understand,” said Luna. “How in the name of the Immortals did Garringsford manage to get away with using shadow magic for so many years without anyone noticing?”
Rose made a noise. “At the Academia Principalis,” she began, “I took a class on forbidden spells so that should I ever encounter one, I could recognize it. Centuries ago, a sorcerer created a spell using shadow magic called a suspicion dampener.”
“I’ve heard about that,” said Harry.
Rose nodded at him and went on. “Its purpose is to misdirect anyone who looks too closely at the caster’s nefarious activities. And the only way to break it is to recognize that the caster is using the spell.”
Orion glanced at Asterin’s dark expression. “So Garringsford cast this suspicion-dampening spell …” He looked at the Eradorian Queen. “And we just broke it.”
“I think so,” said Rose.
“I always wondered if Garringsford was up to something more sinister,” said Asterin, gripping Amoux’s pommel with one hand until her knuckles turned white.
“But nothing like this,” Eadric said quietly.
Rose pointed at him. “Exactly. The spell is just that powerful.”
They lapsed into a tense silence, letting the realization set in.
Luna eyed Harry. “So … what exactly are you?”
Harry wobbled onto his feet. “Let me show you.”
And then his body began to transform, tearing through his clothes.
It was a body that Orion had seen once before, in the water, just before he blacked out. But seeing it in daylight … His fingers inched forward to run along the ribbed, translucent membrane of the wings folded at Harry’s sides. “You can fly with these?” said Orion. In response, Harry unfurled them slowly, as far as he could, until they extended twenty feet across from tip to tip.
“Shift back, Harry,” said Asterin.
He dipped his head in compliance, and returned to his human form—but his clothes had been ripped to shreds when he had shifted. Now a dark, armor-like second skin covered him all the way up to his neck, glimmering as if hewn from rough-cut obsidian.
“I want to help you, Asterin,” said Harry.
Asterin considered him for a long moment. “How exactly do you plan on doing that?”
Eadric whipped around to her. “You can’t be serious. After everything he did—” The captain’s mouth snapped shut when he saw the fire in Asterin’s eyes.
“There are two kinds of liars,” she said. “The ones that lie to protect themselves, and the ones that lie to protect others. Garringsford is one, and I believe that Harry is the other.” The princess pulled Amoux free from the earth, gazing at the double-headed wolf pommel. “Someone told me to accept the truth for what it is, and that my heart would show me the right path.” She looked up at Harry. “My heart hasn’t forgiven you for lying, but we might need your help to get to Garringsford. And so … I accept your truth.”
Eadric shook his head rapidly. “Your Highness—”
Rose stepped forward. “I accept your truth, too, Harry. You had so many chances to kill us, to hurt us. But you never did.”
“Th-thank you,” Harry whispered, his eyes wide with something akin to disbelief.
Orion swallowed the knot in his throat. Part of him wanted to echo Rose’s words, but something deep inside him still bled, and it hurt. He had finally begun to learn how to trust, and Harry had shattered that. Out of everyone, even Asterin, Orion had felt like he shared something special with Harry. Something different. But had that been a lie, too?
Quinlan tilted his head. “What can you tell us about shadow magic?”
“Anything you want to know,” said Harry.
“Are there any ways to kill an anygné?”
That caught him off guard. “Do you plan to kill me?”
Quinlan smiled. “If you betray us, then yes, without hesitation. Do you plan to betray us?”
“No,” Harry replied firmly. “Cutting off my wings is the only way to kill me. But it’s impossible to accomplish with mortal steel. Only King Eoin’s sword, Nöctklavan, is sharp enough.” He exhaled and squared his shoulders. “For centuries, I have slaved beneath Eoin’s hand. I have never found the courage to disobey him, but then I met all of you and witnessed your strength, day after day. You taught me what bravery was. You taught me how to care.” His eyes lingered on Orion. “Your kindness gives me hope that even though I am a demon, I can still be more.” He bowed deeply. “And I will never forget that.”
Asterin regarded the hunter for a moment longer before speaking. “It’s settled then. Especially since we have no idea what more Garringsford might have up her sleeve. You’re coming with us back to Axaris.”
Eadric opened his mouth again, but Luna kicked him in the shin.
“We have no time to lose,” the princess went on, sheathing Amoux. “We must return to the palace as soon as possible.”
The others began following her out of the grove, even Eadric, albeit reluctantly.
Orion stayed on the ground, staring up at Harry.
“Do you hate me?” the hunter asked quietly.
Orion ignored his question. “Was anything real?”
Confusion flickered across Harry’s face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean us. Were we real?”
Harry’s gaze dropped to the ground, his face hidden in shadow. His shoulders began trembling. When he finally lifted his chin, to Orion’s everlasting shock, those warm brown eyes brimmed with tears.
Orion shot to his feet, every misgiving flying out of his head. He wrapped Harry in his arms. How could he not, when Harry looked like his heart had been stripped raw?
“Almighty Immortals,” said Orion as Harry muffled a sob into his neck. He cradled him closer, finding himself at a loss for any other words.
“Did you really think that?” Harry mumbled. “That I faked everything?”
Orion huffed. “Well, you can’t really blame me for checking.”
Harry buried his tear-streaked face into Orion’s shoulder. “I could never do that to you.”
“Hey.” Orion grasped Harry’s chin and tilted it up, their eyes searching one another’s. “Listen, Harry. I might, in Asterin’s words, ‘accept your truth,’ but I swear to the Immortals … if you leave us, I will never, ever forgive you. Promise me that you won’t.”
Harry tipped his face forward, resting their foreheads together. “Promise.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Luna led her snow-white mare out of the barn and into the clearing, the reins gripped in her fist. The sky was an overcast slate, the air thick and humid. Ahead of her, Rose swatted at a cloud of black flies. It dispersed, only to re-collect around Luna’s face.
She waved her hand irately—but then froze, feet dragging to a halt.
The low, incessant drone of buzzing black flies. Three children, sprawled in the late summer sunshine, sweating and eating fresh berries, the juices dribbling down their wrists and staining their skin pink and purple.
“Luna, are you all right?” Asterin asked from behind her. Lux nickered impatiently.
Luna blinked away the image. “Oh, sorry.” She hurried to catch up to Rose, shaking her head to herself. Where had that memory come from? One of those children was you, her mind told her. But she didn’t remember the other two children. Who were they?
“With her guard down, it’ll be that much easier to finish Garringsford,” Asterin said to the others. Quinlan trailed beside her and Harry waited for them down the cobbled path beneath the branched archway. Orion came out of the barn last, latching the door shut behind Buttercup. “Harry is supposed to bring my heart to Garringsford. She told him to meet her at the palace at eight in the evening on Fairfest Eve, three days from now.”
“You know we can’t just kill the General of Axaria,” Eadric said. His brow hadn’t smoothed since Asterin had overruled him about Harry. Luna knew he would never disobey the princess, but it didn’t mean he was happy about the decision.
Asterin nodded. “We have to unveil her in front of as many people as possible. And the Fairfest Ball will be the perfect opportunity to do that. Royals and nobles from all the kingdoms will be attending. To expose Garringsford using shadow magic before all of them would guarantee her execution without condemning ourselves.”
Luna frowned as she walked. “But how do we get in? If Garringsford thinks you’re dead, then you can’t go as yourself. We’ll need fake invitations—”
Rose glanced over her shoulder at Luna with a grin. “Wh
o needs a fake invitation when you’re the Queen of Eradore?”
Orion huffed a laugh. “Convenient.”
“And Rose’s invitation permits her three escorts,” Quinlan said, one hand stroking the nose of his palomino mare. “So Asterin, Orion, and I will accompany her into the ball. We’ll need to find disguises, of course, and damned good ones if we don’t want to risk getting recognized—”
Luna suddenly dropped her horse’s reins and squeezed her eyes shut, slamming her palms into her temples as color exploded behind her lids.
A village, an inn—and a plump, boisterous woman with rosy cheeks who she called Maman. Two other children—Maman’s children—brother and sister. Her best friends.
The two children, Luna realized.
“Nathan and Clara,” she said aloud.
“Luna?” Asterin said, but Luna could barely hear over the roar in her ears, her world knocked askew by the whirlwind of memories. She snatched up as many as she could, desperate and lost, and tried to piece together the mystery that had become her life.
A wailing girl with hair like silver-blond gossamer chasing after a lanky boy, a bright blue ribbon the same shade as her eyes clutched in his grubby fist. “Poor, pretty little moonflower, her pretty little ribbon stolen,” Nathan sang, a devious grin lighting his face.
A second girl sharing Nathan’s close-set eyes and freckles lunged out of nowhere. The two tumbled to the ground, brawling in the dust, rolling and growling and snapping at each other like feral dogs. Clara, clothes streaked with dirt, emerged victorious, and handed the ribbon back to its rightful owner, who stopped her wailing for a smile of thanks.
The three of them, scurrying upstairs to a bland attic room with dingy gray walls after a hard day of chores and errands, playing cards and telling stories late into the night. Falling asleep on the floor even when there were three perfectly good beds right beside them, just so they could be close enough to touch, backs pressed to stomachs, clutching one another’s hands like lifelines.
The three of them, sitting in a meadow of wildflowers. Nathan and Clara ogling up at the sky while the third child with the gossamer hair—Luna—summoned illusion after illusion, her magic always waiting at her fingertips, creating entire worlds for all of them to dream and play in together.
