Page 120 of Her Soul for a Crown
Even Reeri had only ever heard stories of a soul’s use. What if he could not stop it from completely cleaving her? What if it could not be done? Would he have to choose betwixt freeing his brethren or saving her soul?
Reeri brushed a hand through damp curls and took a breath that shook more than steadied.
“How much farther?” Sohon whispered.
Calu grunted. “If we knew that, do you think we would be crawling our way through this?”
“There!” Kama shouted. Calu clapped a hand over her mouth, yet she was right. Ahead of Bithul and Anula, to the center of the hall and off to one side, it stood: the statue of Fate.
Blessed with curves and star-filled eyes, a gown wrapped tight around their waist, stardust glittering the length of their arms, down to their hands, which held an ivory-and-iron blade. It was small and delicate and made Reeri’s palms sweat.
“Is it real?” Bithul breathed, more starry-eyed than the statue.
“Y-yes,” Anula choked, coughing as she lifted a hand toward it. “I feel it wants to be used.”
“Like the paintings in the palace,” Bithul murmured.
Sweat trickled down her neck, her eyes flicking to the shadows, as if Wessamony would appear as soon as skin met bone. Reeri’s fingers twitched. It was not too late; they could skip the soul cleaving.
But no. He squeezed his eyes shut, blinked them open again. This undertaking was too important. He could not retreat now. Ratti deserved a life. They all did. Reeri had promised.
“Good. On our count, Anula, pick up the relic,” Kama said, pulling out a silk saaluwa. She revealed a heart wrapped within and nodded to the others to take out their own essence offerings. “We must wield the soul you offered and then call upon the Bone Blade’s power to kill Wessamony. The equinox is hours away.”
Eyes wide, Anula nodded, her hand hovering at the hilt.
“Strike fast,” Calu said, taking out his rice bowl made of teeth. He shot Reeri a look. “Mayhap Bithul could stand by, in case.”
Reeri’s pulse pounded as Bithul shifted nearer to Anula, ready to do his duty. The Yakkas tightened their circle, Kama pulling Reeri along. Anula lifted the Bone Blade from the statue’s grip, and it began.
“Great and vast cosmos,” Kama sang low. “Hear our prayer…”
Relic shaking along with her hands, Anula cast sidelong glances into the shadows. Reeri gripped his vial of blood, clenched his teeth, as Kama beseeched the cosmos to hear their bid and accept their offerings. This was the only way. Anula had agreed.
“I give to you a journal of secrets, offered to me for my benevolence,” Sohon said, laying his book on the ground.
“I give to you a heart, offered to me for my benevolence,” Kama said, laying hers right beside.
Calu offered his, and as he laid it on the ground, the journalof secrets disappeared in a mist. A shiver racked Anula, and the mehendhi on her arms swirled, tightening. A noose of her own skin, cinching tight, cutting flesh and drawing blood. Her offering of a soul being called upon.
For once, Reeri did not feel it, too. For once, it was only her pain, her anguish, her—
Reeri’s heart tripped.
A light bloomed in her chest, growing brighter. Joy and peace and happiness shifted out and breezed across Reeri’s face, taunting him to reach out and grasp them, to take control, to pull and cleave.
His will extended forward—Kama’s, Sohon’s, and Calu’s, too. They touched Anula’s soul, and heavensong rippled through their own. But Reeri did not rejoice, did not smile as the others did, because he saw it. Beneath the light they held grew a darkness, twining around Anula’s chest, curving claws around her heart. It paled her and turned her sallow.
No, this was not right. Even partially cleaving her soul was taking too much. He could not bear to witness the passion dim from her eyes or the jests be ripped from her lips. It was too high a cost.
Anula, alive but silent.
Anula, a husk with a crown.
“No!” Reeri shouted, ripping his hand from Kama’s and shooting forward.
Tearing the relic from Anula’s hand, he threw it out of the circle, watched it clatter to the floor, and then fell to his knees before her.
“I am sorry.” His voice broke. “I am sorry.”
