Page 113 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
“Watch out!” I scream.
The bolt halts midair—suspended, crackling—then veers toward the back of the arena. The ground convulses, a crevasse the size of my head ripping through the seats, the far wall, and part of the ceiling. Chaos erupts. The bold few who stayed until now push and stumble over each other as they flee. The rock slab beneath our feet tilts toward the ocean, debris crashing from the arena ceiling and tumbling past the ledge.
I search the sky for an answer, trying to understand where that eerie bolt came from, whether there’s another behind it, and why it missed.
Where the bolt diverted, where the lightning veered off-course, a small blur plummets toward the arena floor, leaving a trail of Faerie dust behind it. The iridescent shimmer stops me cold.
No. Nonono.
“Percy!”
I fly to catch him, cradling his little body in my palms, shaking so hard I can barely hold on.
Percy’s once-purple suit is charred black, threads melted into his skin. His melon hat is gone, his hair singed down to the roots, scorched red patches peppered across his scalp. His skin, where it’s not blistered, is ashen. His wings—those strong, beautiful wings—are nothing but crumbling bone and dust. Gone.
His eyes stare straight ahead. Glassy. Empty. No mischief. No glint. No clever retort on his lips. Just stillness.
“Come on,” I whisper. “Come on, please…”
I press my index finger over his chest, but there’s no faint heartbeat to find. No pulse. No spark of magic humming beneath his skin.
He’s gone.
The best part of me. The part that made me laugh when everything else hurt. The only one who never asked me to be more than I am. Who loved me as I was. My only companion. My heart.
I shake my head. “You weren’t supposed to do this. You were supposed tolive.” Messy sobs distort my voice as my wings curl around us, my knees sliding to the ground. “Don’t leave me,diamantay.”
Tears scorch down my cheeks. I bend over him, nose pressed to his forehead. The scent of singed fabric and Faerie ash twists my stomach. The weight of him, already cooling in my hands, makes me retch.
This is the price for living.
My most precious friend—the last part of my heart that wasn’t all dried and shriveled—is dead.
Chapter 37
Shattered Glass
DEVI
“Devi… I’m so sorry,” Seth whispers, his hand warm on the nape of my neck.
I can barely hear him over the staccato of my heart, but he squeezes my shoulder again. “It’s dangerous to stay here.”
I want to claw his eyes out. Stomp over his body. Tear off his limbs.
As I glare at Seth through angry, bitter tears, I can only see my own pain. “Why? Why would he sacrifice himself for you?” I roar.
Seth inches closer, holding his hands out in front of him. “I’m so terribly, terribly sorry. If we could only?—”
“No.” I cradle Percy’s tiny body, shielding him from Seth’s gaze.
It’s been seconds since he died. Or hours. I lost track.
Seth’s hand presses hard on my shoulder. “Something’s happening. We need to leave.”
I glance past my wings to see what he means.
Behind us, electricity slithers out of the hole in Alaric’s chest, coiling around the blade and hilt before spreading through his lifeless body. The iron-silver alloy sparks, then begins to melt, the current spilling outward like a swarm of yellow serpents trapped inside him and desperate to escape.
