Page 53 of Blood Red Woes

I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t seem like a life.

As much as I don’t want to do it, I know I have to. It’s my only option. Besides, removing Gladus from the equation might get me on the good side of the Emperor, and maybe he can help me once it’s all said and done.

I cross the stone bridge, fill my lungs with a deep breath, and then push inside the castle.

I expect guards similar to the ones that stormed the marketplace in Laconia, but I’m greeted by nothing and no one. The castle has a few windows, along with some chandeliers thathang from the high ceilings. It’s enough light to illuminate the hall I step into.

It’s empty. Just as empty as the city outside.

“Deeper we go,” Rune says what I’m thinking, and I venture further into the castle.

There is no rug that guides me this time to a grand hall. The lower levels of the castle are barren, no throne room in sight. A library, a dining hall, but that’s mostly it. It’s as I find a stone staircase that I come to the conclusion the throne room—and Gladus, by extension—might be at the top of the castle.

If the woman’s magic has to do with storms and weather, her throne being up top shouldn’t surprise me at all.

There’s only one way to find out.

I go up, and as I go up, I keep listening for sounds of life. There is none. The higher I go doesn’t change a thing; the silence remains. The only thing that changes is me: I’m slightly out of breath by the time the stairs end and I reach the top. I have to take a minute to compose myself.

The stairs stop right before a set of black doors. Something tells me Empress Gladus is inside, so I take off my bag and leave it on the top step. If I die, I won’t need it, but if I survive, I don’t want what’s left of the food I brought to get fucked up in the fight. Plus, it’d only slow me down.

I heave a heavy breath and push through the metal doors as I think:Here goes nothing.

The room I walk into has no ceiling. The misty sky sits above, blocking out the natural blue. Nothing but stone beneath my feet as I step into a strange throne room whose walls on either side are also missing. The only walls still standing are the one behind the gray throne and the one I just walked through.

And guess who’s sitting on the throne?

Gladus

Chapter Sixteen

Gladus leans to the side, her chin resting on her fist as she watches me approach. She does not wear a dress; instead, she wears metal armor that must’ve been created specifically for her body. It fits her form perfectly, the metal so pure and black it almost seems like the void. Beneath the black metal plate is dark gray chainmail.

She is a woman in her forties, but now I know that doesn’t mean she actually is forty-something. She could be ninety for all I know. Her black hair is pin-straight, long enough to be braided in a crown around her head, jewels inlaid in the braid. Her blue eyes are piercing, cold as ice as she glares at me from afar.

I walk toward the throne, making sure to stare her down all the while. She might frighten some and intimidate others, but not me.

It is when I stand fifteen feet away that she says, “I knew it was only a matter of time before you would come.” She moves her chin off her fist and flexes both hands on the armrests of her throne as she narrows her cerulean eyes at me. “I have been waiting.” Her tone is severe, commanding; I instinctively want to flinch when I hear her speak, but I stand strong.

“Sorry it took me so long,” I tell her with a shrug. “But I’m here now, so we can finish this.”

Gladus leans forward on her throne, her metal armor shifting as she moves. “Yes, it is far past time. This should’ve been finished already. You, demon, will know your place. You do not belong here. You will die in my court and I will dance on your grave.” The way she says it, so plainly, like she truly believes I’m no worthy opponent, pisses me off.

“I think I’m the one who’s gonna dance,” I hiss through my teeth, and before she has the chance to get up, I fling a ball of sizzling light in her direction. Who said I have to play fair?

She swats the magical ball away from her with a flick of the wrist and stands. She must be a tall woman, near six feet in height, because she dwarfs me as she approaches. “You idiot girl. You toy with forces beyond your knowledge.”

“Oh, yeah? And what about you, huh? What about all those people out there?” I point behind me, bringing up every single soul that died in that old colosseum. “What did they do to deserve their fate?”

“In war there must be sacrifice. War does not care whether or not its victims are innocent. War swallows all, just as it will swallow you.” Gladus reaches for something on her hip: a hilt, made of black metal similar to her armor—only there isn’t a sword attached.

I stand my ground. “Those people depended on you. They trusted you! And you killed them like they were nothing.”

Gladus mutters, “Without death, there can be no victory.”

She lifts the hilt toward the sky, and the mist clouding the skies turns black, darkening, thickening into a storm. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and she blinks. When she opens her eyes, they glow an unnatural, stormy blue. Lightning surges down from the skies, hitting the hilt, and what is left is a blade made of pure electricity.

As she lowers her magical weapon, she points it at me. A sword crackling with power, her eyes matching the glowing hue of the lightning-blade. “I will defeat you, and when I do, I will hear nothing but silence.”

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