Page 229 of The Ashes and the Star-Cursed King

I still wasn’t quite used to seeing Vale look relieved to see me.

“Highness,” he said, raising his voice over the wind and the steady drumbeat rhythm of wings.

“Don’t let them get beyond the ruins,” I commanded.

He looked down to the rocks below. I saw him put the pieces together—what must be down there.

“Understood.” His eyes flicked to me, the question in them obvious. “Did you—”

“Oraya is searching.”

That answer made it sound so mundane. Not like I’d just left her to wander off into an ominous magical pit.

I veered closer, as close as we could get without colliding.

“Hold that line, Vale. No matter what. Understood?”

Understanding flickered in his face. He knew the frantic edge to my voice wasn’t just about the artifact, no matter how powerful it was.

“We’ll hold it,” he said, voice firm. “I swear it.”

I lifted my head to face the onslaught of warriors ahead, speeding toward us in a steady, unrelenting wall. Vale drew his sword, face stone, jaw set.

“Weapons up!” he roared, voice booming through the air, the echo rolling through the armies as his captains passed the order along.

Simon’s army was now close enough that I could see their faces.

And clearer than any of them, I saw Simon’s—blood-streaked, rage-drenched. He practically reeked of otherworldly power, a faint, crimson-tinted smoke collecting around his wings, the glow at his chest simmering like hot coals in the night.

One look at him, and I knew he’d rip through whatever poor bastards threw themselves at him. Heir power might be enough to hold him off. Maybe.

“Stay away from him,” I said to Vale. “He’s mine.”

The truth was, it wasn’t all that selfless. I was ready for a rematch.

I drew my sword.

67

ORAYA

Icouldn’t see a damned thing. I cursed my human eyes as I staggered through the darkness—darkness so all-encompassing that within just a few steps, it swallowed up even the distant remnants of the moonlight through the open door. One hand blindly felt my way forward as I ventured into the dense shadows, the other holding up an orb of Nightfire that didn’t even begin to penetrate the black.

What was I even looking for?

A safe? A chest? Where would Vincent have hidden something so powerful? Would he have made it into a weapon? Should I be groping around these walls for—what, another magical sword ready for the taking? Or—

My next step did not find ground where I expected it.

My backside hit the floor hard, sliding down a set of stairs. My hands clawed at the walls to slow myself, Nightfire sputtering out.

With a clumsyTHUMP, I slid to a stop.

“Fuck,” I hissed.

My tailbone ached. I’d lost count of how many steps I’d struck on the way down.

But nothing, thankfully, seemed broken. It would be awfully pathetic if, after everything I’d been through, a fall down a flight of Goddess-damned stairs was the thing to take me now.

---