Page 98 of To No End

Cairis wasn’t too far away but would have to handle the three guards who were storming in from the terrace all on his own. Nori and Gia were nowhere to be seen.

Two guards ran up on Varro and me with swords raised, but they both suddenly grasped at their throats, knees buckling, as they began to gasp for breath. Siren Song. Varro had rendered them defenseless before he walked up, grabbed them by the scalp to expose their necks, and ran his blade across each of their throats. I shuddered at the blood spurting and pouring out of them.

“Come on!” Varro instructed me as he stormed toward the exit, both of us still wary of our surroundings.

The booming sound of fireworks continued outside, the guests completely unaware of the small battle underway inside the house. The nanny, now awake, the effects of Siren Song diminished, came running out of the children’s nursery screaming. She wasn’t a threat, but she was only going to alert more guards. I gave her one swift punch to the side of her face, knocking her out cold. She’d wake up with a massive headache, but she didn’t need to die for this. In between unsure steps and exasperated breaths, I asked, “Did you find it?”

Varro and I continued to walk in a defensive stance ensuring no blind spots.

“Yes, Trace has it. Just focus on getting out of here alive.”

He had never sounded like this. Panicked and unsure. Cairis had finally plowed his way through those three guards when Varro shouted, “Go, just go. I’ve got her!”

I looked up to see a clear exit near Cairis. He was covered in blood—not his own. With no other guards in his way, he could make it out under the cover of the celebratory commotion and get to the rendezvous point. All I could hope was that Gia and Nori were already there.

Down in the middle of the ballroom, we spotted Trace. Box in one hand, guard’s sword in the other. He had already hacked his way through half a dozen fighters all on his own. He began to make his way up the staircase on the opposite end of us, almost to the exit, when suddenly more guards rushed in, flanking Varro and me. There were more than the two of us could handle.

Varro and I had the same thought. We both ran down the steps and across the dance floor to the place where Trace just was, but he didn’t return. When I looked up, he was still at the top of the stairs, staring down at us. The echoes of guards’ footsteps encircled us from every angle. Why wasn’t Trace coming to help us fight?

Varro shot me a concerned look, but I couldn’t entirely discern what he wanted me to do.

“We need to fly, it’s our only way out.”

Out of breath and with my heart racing, I unfurled my wings just as Varro did. The minute we were both airborne, I felt a sharp stab through my shoulder and I quickly plummeted back to the hard marble floor.

I writhed in agony, screaming. An arrow had pierced my wing and was embedded in the back of my shoulder. The pain seared through me and my blood began to pool across the pale floor. Shocked, I looked up at Varro and saw fear in his eyes, and then I looked back at Trace, where he stood near the doorway.

His stare was hollow. He took off through the exit door, box in hand, leaving me and Varro to fend for ourselves.

The words echoed in my mind as I began to feel lightheaded.

Failure is not an option.

That’s when it became clear to me what this was all about. I knew we were a team, but the mission came first. I was the reason the mission went downhill to begin with. No one else deserved to get hurt because of me.

“Go…go now!” I choked out toward Varro, still hovering above me.

Guards were everywhere, but if he flew fast and possibly straight through the nearest window, he could make it.

“No,” he fumed and landed beside me.

I looked up to see Nix standing at the top of the stairs we had just run down, holding his side and still bleeding as he yelled, directing his guards, “Kill him and bring me that wretched whore! She’s mine to deal with.”

Instinctively, Varro raised his wings over and around me, trying to shield me as I lay below him on the ground.

“Pull the arrow out,” I begged him.

“No, you’ll lose too much blood!” I’d never seen Varro look truly scared, until now.

The thought that at any minute arrows would begin showering down upon us terrified me, but then I looked up at Nix and that terror shifted into hate.

I heard the countless clicks of crossbows, and it was as if time had slowed down. Varro hovered protectively over me, and I looked into his bright blue eyes, eyes that said goodbye. My rage played through my mind like the pages of a book: the gambler at the tavern, my father delivering me to the king, Saryn slapping me, hours upon countless hours under the torturous hand of the Vesper, Nix’s hands all over me, Nix forcing himself on me, the way the dagger felt sliding in his side. Suddenly, all that rage exploded out of me in an indescribable burst of energy that flared out in all directions.

Varro and I were wrapped in the warmth of safety, like a cocoon that shielded us from everything. Power flowed off of me,quaking the ground beneath us, shattering every window, and blasting every guard and Nix through the air to slam into the walls closest to them.

A sudden silence reigned, only broken by the echoes of cracking walls, falling glass, and the guards’ pained moans. Outside, the fireworks ceased, and the sounds of screaming guests took their place.

The ruckus grew fainter with each passing second. I felt incredibly tired and drained. What had just happened? I wondered if the blood loss from the arrow had become too much. I felt myself slipping into a fog, and in the distance, I heard the faint echo of Aster’s words,“How strong is faith, when arrows nocked?”

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