Page 90 of A War of Crowns

The certainty of a sacred death. With the slightest sliver of a chance that, perhaps, by the grace of the Lady, she might become something…more.

No further words were exchanged between them. A great hush fell over the temple as the Mother reached toward her and placed a weathered palm against her brow.

The moment the woman’s hand pressed to her skin, Talia reeled.

Her consciousness dimmed, and she crumpled like a discarded doll to the marble floor in a bone-jarring tumble of limbs.

In the moment before all went dark, she was almost certain she heard Skatia whisper a nearly soundless, “Do not fail me now,” in parting.

But that was probably just the delirium again.

The Underworld.

Talia knew that was where she was the moment she opened her eyes and saw darkness stretching all around her—impenetrable and murky.

It wisped about her form like tendrils of inky mist, bringing with it a chill that soaked deep into her bones and chipped away at what little strength she had left.

She swayed on her feet, unsure of when she had even stood up. But she was certain even the lightest breeze would send her toppling over again.

There was no breeze in the Underworld, though, she found.

There was simply…apresence.

She felt it rather than saw it, like eyes prickling across her skin. As the moments ticked by in further silence—a silence far more profound than any she had experienced during her Cleanse—fear slowly burbled to life within her.

She tried to choke it down. To chase it away.

A witch fears nothing,she reminded herself.

But that fear kept growing and growing all the same until Talia had to grit her teeth against the scream hammering at her throat, desperate to be free.

Are you afraid of the dark, child?

The voice oozed from the shadows, oily and thick. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep from flinching away.

Was that the Lady? It sounded like no woman she had ever heard.

It sounded like no man, either.

Words could not truly describe the bestial growl which somehow formed speech with neither mouth nor tongue.

“No,” Talia bit out through her clenched teeth, which earned for her a low rumble from the darkness.

It soundedunhappy.

Liar!

That single word cracked forth like the snap of a whip, bringing Talia to her knees. The force of it crushed all the air from her lungs. Her lips parted on a gasp that never came.

She struggled to breathe. She drowned in the weight of the darkness. Before too long, her vision blurred and blackened.

This was it. Her greatest failure.

And in record time.

When at last she had no more breath within her lungs, Talia swayed in place before going slack.

And then, she fell. But the floor was no longer there to catch her.

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