Page 164 of Flame and Sparrow

The sudden weight of me startled him enough to stop him. I pulled my hands against his chest and peered around him, glaring at the chaotic god before us.

The slits of pale white in the Death Marr’s eyes were more visible with the hallway lights extinguished. Like they had in the past, they brought to mind a last spark of hope being swallowed up by unfathomable darkness.

Our gazes fully met.

He smiled knowingly, and dread gripped me so tightly it likely would have knocked me off balance if not for the way I still held on to Dravyn.

“Search her room,” he said. “You will see for yourself why I sent my shadows, and you will thank me for it when you realize the truth—that she means to destroy you. To destroyallof us.”

Dravyn had started to pull free of my hold, but he paused at the worddestroy.

Only the tiniest of hesitations, but I felt it.

“I will not search anything of hers,” he said, somewhat quieter, but just as furiously as before, “and you will pay for doing so.” His hand pressed against the one I had over his heart for a moment before he stepped out of my hold.

I couldn’t just let him go. He trusted me over one of his own court—and it was trust I knew I didn’t deserve.

Guilt surged through me, pushing a single word from my mouth: “Wait.”

He paused and glanced back, uncertain.

The God of Death’s gaze remained fixed on me. Challenging me to admit to everything I’d done, everything I’d planned, everything he’d seen.

I planned to. I was desperately trying to think of where to start, how to put it all into words—

Then came the eerie, echoing sound of claws upon marble.

Fog—similar to the kind I’d battled with yesterday—rolled into the hallway ahead of us, and a veilhound emerged from it, carrying the knife Cillian had given me between its jaws.

It stalked toward us and dropped its prize obediently at Zachar’s side.

Before I could say a word, the Death Marr swooped up the knife and plunged it into the beast’s side.

I watched in horror as the weapon had the same effect on the divine creature as it had on the magic-infused stone I’d first tested it on. Dark energy unfurled from the blade, seeking the veins of divine magic within the beast and choking them out, shriveling the creature’s sides and stealing away its power, its energy, its very breaths.

The veilhound made almost no sound as it dropped dead, and no other sound followed for several moments after.

“Here is your evidence of my claims,” Zachar finally said, his voice echoing in the space like a low peal of distant thunder.

Dravyn stood perfectly still, eyes locked on the dead beast.

I backed away from him until I hit the wall, bracing my hand against it, trying to catch my breath.

And though there was no real need for further explanation, the God of Death stepped forward, black eyes flashing between us as he said, “This weapon was hidden in her room, and its poison bladeis likely the same kind that her beastly friends used to kill my hound years ago. This is what she intended to do to you. She’s only been biding her time, waiting for an opportunity to strike.”

Dravyn still didn’t take his eyes from the dead creature and the knife beside it. “Youlie. This evidence is—”

“I can show you what I saw in her mind, too,” Zachar interrupted, calmly, his long, skeletal fingers lifting, the tips of them turning to shadows that lifted free and circled the god before snaking toward me.

Dravyn stepped in front of me, summoning a wall of flames that collided with the Death God’s magic. The two powers wrestled with one another for a few seconds before disappearing in a violent implosion, sending shockwaves rushing over me, stealing away what little breath I’d managed to catch.

Zachar bared his teeth. “You protect her, even now?”

“Get out,” Dravyn growled.

The Death Marr held his ground, his shadows shifting into javelin-like shapes that rose around him, all aimed threateningly at Dravyn’s chest.

“OUT!”

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