Page 133 of Bloodguard

Grandmother ignores me. “Understand this, Andres. When those we help across Old Erth turn on us, when those enemies on the brink of uprising come for us, the sacrifice of a few will keep the many of Arrow safe and in power.”

“Hurting this child is inexcusable, Mother,” Papa says. “There must be another way.”

“This is the only way,” Grandmother responds in that tone she used to dictate her word was law.

Papa is taller than Grandmother, yet she manages to look down at him. She adjusts her hold on the dagger, and in a few smooth strides she looms over me and the poor, frightened girl.

Vitor grips Papa’s arm and yanks him back when he tries to intervene.

Papa responds with a hard blow to Vitor’s face. Vitor doubles back and lifts Papa, slamming him to the hard ground by the collar of his bloodred robes. Papa snatches Vitor’s hand and twists, spinning Vitor onto his side. They roll in a pile of swinging arms and legs, the echo of their pounding fists and pained grunts ricocheting along the walls of bone.

I position myself between my grandmother and Lexanne, attempting to block her.

“You can’t do this, Grandmother,” I say, taking several steps toward her. I hold my hands out, heart thumping, knowing I’m about to fight the notorious Queen of Arrow. “Please. This girl could be me.”

Grandmother snatches me up by the throat and shoves her face in mine. “You could never be her,” she says. “But for the sake of Arrow,youmustbeme!”

She flings me away like I’m nothing. I tumble backward, landing on the edge of the incline. I leap to my feet, intending to race back toward my grandmother, but the breath has been knocked out of me. Leaning over and clutching my knees, I shake my head to clear it and suck in a breath at last.

“Aurora!” Avianna screams as she strides away from me, toward the gates and the cowering girl frozen in terror before them. “Your queen calls you.”

I rise and run toward them, but the ground shakes, causing me to stumble. I recover quickly and sprint full-out. I’m almost to them, almost in reach, but I’m too late. Grandmother slits the young girl’s throat in one swift and merciless motion. Lexanne’s blood splatters, spraying my face as I tackle my grandmother to the ground.

We slam against a stalagmite. I roll off her and shoot to my feet, my fists up.

But Grandmother doesn’t rise. She lies motionless, bleeding from her temple. My hands fall to my sides. I’m reaching for her when something hard strikes the base of my skull, and the catacombs explode with light and fire.

“Someone had to take the fall, Maeve,” Vitor says, bringing me back to the present. Numb and trembling, I stare at him wordlessly.

“But neither Andres nor I wanted it to be you.” His voice breaks. “At eighteen, your life was just beginning. The insight you provided was well beyond your years. We knew you’d make a better queen than he would a king.”

“Why did you tell Soro?” Ugeen asks him. “This was a secret you could have taken to your grave. Why tell him now?”

Those tears I hate soak my face. Soro watches them fall.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

More condensation dribbles onto my forehead, mixing with the tears soaking my cheeks.

More yelling from above.

More pounding of hooves.

More of me knowing I caused the injury that killed my grandmother, and that Papa paid the price.

“Soro?” Ugeen presses.

Soro sighs, perceiving my grief as weakness. “When I succeeded in ambushing him, he knew I’d take Maeve by force. But knowing he was fucked, there was little he could do.” He motions at Vitor with a reckless swing of his dagger. “He didn’t want anyone else hurt and thought in telling me this deeply guarded secret, he could strike a bargain.” He cocks his head as he regards his father. “It didn’t work that way. Did it, Vitor?”

“You swore as my son that you wouldn’t hurt Maeve or House Iamond,” Vitor says. “And yet, you ordered the slaughter of every member of her household, even if Maeve was all you needed.”

“I did what a true king should do—sacrifice a small number for the greater good,” Soro replies. There’s no menace in his tone, simply unmitigated righteousness. “As for my word, that oath was never made in blood, and I stopped being your son a long time ago.” His sharp features twist, his face plagued with the evil that met me in the cottage. “Call her,” he says.

If possible, Vitor’s mouth tightens further. He’s had it with Soro. But Soro isn’t done. “I saidcallher,” he snaps.

Everyone present turns in the direction of the imposing golden gate, the ogres unsheathing their weapons and lifting their axes high. Unable to move my body, I turn my head as much as I’m able, struggling once more against my restraints.

“Aurora,” Vitor chokes out.

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