Page 50 of Blood Red Woes

The only thing that saves me is the fact that Pylos is the smallest region of Laconia. There isn’t as much ground to cover—though that isn’t saying much, given how vast Acadia is.

With one hand on the strap of the bag, I get into a running position as the tattoo on my wrist comes to life. I launch myself forward, tiny golden sparks igniting beneath my feet. Step after step, I gain speed instantly, and I can keep up the speed a lot easier than I could if I was running naturally.

The magic beneath me takes hold of my feet, and it’s like I’m gliding on air. I use the magic to push myself harder, further, faster, and within five minutes, the city of Laconia is nothing but a fleck in the horizon.

Night falls sooner than I want, but I don’t stop right away. I only stop when I come across a small village—surprise, surprise, an empty village—so I have some walls around me while I sleep.

Maybe it’s because of what I saw in Laconia, the absolute terror on everyone’s faces when the soldiers from Pylos threatened death and destruction. Maybe it’s because of Primand what she said or the blood oozing from her tiny body around the wooden stake protruding from her belly. Regardless, as I lay there in the dark, on a bed that is made of hay and itchy beyond all belief, I think about Laconia and what it must’ve been like to be there.

To see it all happening. The blight. The plague. The scourge. The madness that seeped into their empresses’ minds. What it must have felt like to slowly lose hope.

Laconia did not go out with a bang, but with many tiny whimpers, one after another. Woe after woe until the people had nothing left. No farms, no livestock, no life. The only ones who are left are the ones locked inside the main city, and even then, they’re not safe. Today’s events proved it.

Is there a way to stop the woes, to reverse them, to fix them, or is hope completely gone for what’s left of Laconia? Is this entire thing a losing battle?

I roll onto my side and ask, “Rune, what do you know about Empress Gladus?”

The black on my wrist lights up in the darkness, glowing a shimmery, yellowish white. It glows enough to light up the entire room. The windows have coverings on them, so I’m not worried about anyone outside seeing in.

“Other than she’s the empress of Pylos? Quite a lot, actually.”

“Tell me about her.”

“You already know that Pylos turns mountainous and craggy the deeper into it you venture. The empress herself has always been the same. A hard woman. Tough. You saw the storm that formed above the marketplace while you were fighting her two soldiers?”

Duh. How could I forget that?

“Her powers always resided with the storms. Lightning, wind, even hail. You must be prepared for anything she might throw at you. At one time, she was revered as the best warrior inall the land… but that was before she lost herself to madness. I do not know how she is now. Perhaps she is nothing more than a shadow of her former self.”

By what I saw and heard in Laconia and with what Rune is telling me now, I’m assuming Gladus never had kids, that I wouldn’t stumble into her castle and find someone else on the throne. No, of course I won’t be so lucky this time.

“Regardless of what we find inside the castle,” Rune says, his accented voice somber, “it will not be an easy fight. We both must be on guard if we have any hope of defeating her.”

I swallow hard. “Of killing her, you mean.” Because that’s what this is. We aren’t traveling all the way to Pylos’s castle just to say hello and thank you for the destruction. We’re going there to stop her from doing it again.

Rune sighs. “Rey, sometimes—”

“Sometimes, what? Sometimes people need to die?” As I say it, my attitude wavers, mostly because I think about Prim and how in no way, shape, or form did she deserve what she got. Children shouldn’t see or experience things like that.

Rune’s “Yes” comes at the same time I realize he’s right.

Sometimes people need to die. In all my life, I never thought I’d ever be the one deciding when or how someone will die—but then again, I never thought I’d be here, with a magical tattoo on my wrist.

His snippy tone is gone when he tells me, “I know you can do it.”

“I have to,” I whisper. “If it’s not me, it’s no one.” A forced chuckle leaves me before I add, “No pressure.”

“When your will wavers, think about Prim.”

Prim. One orphan among many in the lower streets of Laconia. A girl who, in spite of it all, is spirited and hopeful. She deserves so much better—in all aspects of life. If I could giveher a family, a real home, a community, I would. I’d do it in a heartbeat.

Prim thinks I’m an empress. I’m not, but I want to do her proud all the same.

Chapter Fifteen

A sea of blackness surrounds me. I can’t see where I’m going or where I came from, but I can see the black waters of eternity trying to lap at my feet below me. It’s strange; the water doesn’t get my shoes wet, nor do I start to sink. It’s like I’m walking on water without trying.

Black mist coils and curls around me, forming something solid I can’t quite shake off. A deep, low, almost mechanical voice whispers directly into my ear, “You think you can change the fate of Laconia, hmm? You think you can stop me?” The voice is so low I can hear it in my soul, and I shiver in spite of myself.

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