Page 152 of This Monster of Mine

Hefting the blade, she searched for its owner. The crowd parted, aghast, evidently having witnessed the otherworldly figure conversing with her. She would have laughed at the fact that Aelius had been scant yards from a god and missed it. But there was no laughter in her.

On the dais, the object of her pursuit easily fended off attacks from Cassandane’s and Kadra’s vigiles, many of whom lay dead with charred necks. Anek had abandoned Cisuré in favor of supporting their Tetrarch, who sported several ugly wounds in addition to the hole in her shoulder.

Tossing away another body, Aelius fought a black-robed vigile Sarai recognized as Gaius. She tested the blade, recalling her offhand remark to Kadra months ago.

Every snowgrape harvester learns to throw a knife.

“I’m the Magus Supreme.” He shot a bolt that Gaius narrowly missed. Sarai raised her arm, narrowing in on Aelius with single-minded hatred. “You could never—”

An ugly squelch filled the air. The wet sound of a stake sinking into mud, of a knife severing a vine. Aelius froze, looking down at the blade that had slammed through one side of his ribcage to emerge from the other. His mouth worked even as his knees buckled, and he fell headfirst down the stairs to rest in a crumpled heap.

Sarai watched the tremulous rise and fall of his chest for a moment, then turned to the crowd.

“We’ll start with a single log.”

For a moment, no one moved.

Then, Gaius, eyes wet with tears, staggered down the steps toward the log pile that was always to the far right of the stage.

Several vigiles fisted Aelius’s white robes, dragging him to the post at the center of the stage where they bound him. His fingers twitched, only able to summon a few sparks of lightning in his weakness. Kadra had been stronger.

Gaius placed the log by Aelius’s feet and then turned to her, bowing low. Crouching beside it, Sarai drewyarisand stepped back as flame swept over the wood. Aelius shook his head groggily, the sword bisecting his body still embedded.

“Aelius of Edessa, you stand here accused of thehomicidiumof too many people to count, including past Petitors. Your crimes areambitus,calumnia, torture, attemptedhomicidium, bribery, corruption, and almost every unsavory act an elected official can commit,” Sarai said softly. “How do you plead?”

Alarm sparked to life in his gaze as the fire moved toward his feet.

Sarai turned to Gaius. “Another log.”

Someone pressed a log in her hand. She turned to find another of Kadra’s vigiles, eyes red. Several of his people waited, all carrying wood. She gripped the vigile’s shoulder in silent grief before placing the tinder at Aelius’s feet.

He yelped as the log cracked, sending a shower of sparks over his feet.

“How do you plead?” Sarai asked again, too numb for spite.

Blood ran from his mouth as he opened it, trying to speak.

She tilted her head. “Another log.”

One by one, they gave them to her, and she placed each one at the feet of the man who had ruined so many lives for coin.

She didn’t have to wait long for the heat to bite his heels, for it to wrap around his ankles to the discordant music of his screams. Expelling a long breath, she sat on the stage, drawing her knees to her chest as Tetrarch Aelius of Edessa, Magus Supreme, burned to death with his own blade in him. Tendrils of fire ran up his cheeks as people cursed his name, and vigiles vindictively added logs to his pyre in the name of the man whose life he had taken.

And she couldn’t tell if it was smoke or anguish behind her silent tears.

So this was vengeance, Sarai thought numbly. A broken, empty blankness where joy should be, devoid of pomp and celebration.And why would there be any?In less than a day, the Tetrarchy had been whittled to a single Tetrarch. And the man she loved was dead.

“Sarai.” Cisuré staggered toward her, sounding as though she was in shock. “You—”

“Leave me alone.” She was the last person Sarai wanted to see.

“Turn around, you need to—”

She shot Cisuré a glower so fierce the other girl retreated a few steps. But there were whispers growing behind them. Frantic. Awed. Sarai stilled as she heard boots approaching her from behind. At the other end of the stage, Gaius turned deathly pale. And someone sat beside her.

She didn’t move. Didn’t turn to face her companion. She’d deluded herself once already. If she did it again, she might never be able to stop.

“He looks better charred,” a beautiful voice murmured. “But I thought you disapproved of burning.”

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