Page 114 of A Fate Unwoven
This time, he didn’t hesitate. He swung his blade at her, breaking her concentration long enough for General Alræn to reach them. To swing her own weapon at his cousin.
“I’ve got her,” she yelled over the fighting. “Go!”
Dimas moved, weaving his way through the fighting toward the uncle he’d thought he could trust. Another arrow whizzed past him, this time aimed at Roston, and as the regent raised his arms, tendrils of dark mist drifted from the sigil-marked pillars to form a dome of shadow—like mist around him that stopped the arrow in its tracks.
Dammit.
A magical shield would make things more difficult. Dimas would need to break all of the pillars surrounding the dais, hoping the act interrupted Roston’s magic as it had done the other cultists.
Dimas altered his course, running not for the stone steps but for the pillar closest to him. His energy waned with each incoming attack, the wounds he’d received burning with pain unlike any he’d ever felt.
He’d just reached the first pillar when the shadows seized his mind.
Dimas stumbled into the pillar as the ground shifted dangerously beneath his feet. But through the haze, he could just make out the features of the cultist approaching him.
Iska.
“It’s over, Dimas,” she said. “I defeated your general, and now I will defeatyou.”
Dimas saw the energy gathering toward her marked hand. He had just enough of his senses left to roll out of the way.
But Iska hadn’t been aiming at him. She’d been aiming at the fair-haired girl running toward them with her bow raised.
Maia let out a pained scream as the force of the blow sent her tumbling to the ground a few feet from Dimas.
Dimas’s entire body went numb. The distraction had been enough for the shadows to recede. To give Dimas time to fully see the destruction the fight had caused.
The cavern was littered with bodies. Some in cultists robes, but just as many in imperial armor. Mirena lay with a sword through her chest before the dais, her eyes open but unseeing. Dead, just like Brother Dunstan. Dimas hadn’t been able to save them, but he could still save Maia. She lay unmoving on the ground, but Dimas could just make out the slow rise and fall of her chest.
He had to end this. Now. But there was no way Iska would let him get to Maiaorthe sigil she was currently drawing her magic from. She’d strike the second he made a move toward either.
But maybe there was a way he could use that to his advantage.
As a plan started to form, Dimas struggled to his feet. Lifted his sword and pointed it threateningly at his cousin. “Don’t make me kill you,” he said, circling her. He didn’t need to fake the crack in his voice. The tears in his eyes. “Please, Iska, I love you.”
Iska faltered. Just for a moment. And then her expression hardened again, her eyes flashing. “You won’t kill me; you are as weak as your mother,” she said.
“My mother wasn’t weak, and neither am I.” It took every ounce of strength Dimas had left to keep his hand steady as he raised his sword. “You let yourself be corrupted by the very power our ancestors fought against.Youare the one who is weak.”
Rage flashed behind Iska’s eyes, and with a roar, she flung the energy she’d been gathering toward Dimas.
Just as he’d anticipated.
Dimas darted out of the way at the last second. Without him to stop it, the magical energy Iska had loosed sliced through the air—
—and into the stone pillar Dimas had been standing in front of.
Dozens of cracks began to appear in the stone, and all around them, the cavern gave a mighty groan. Iska screamed, whirling toward Dimas. “What did you—”
Dimas didn’t give her time to finish. Sending a quiet prayer to his mother for forgiveness, he grabbed Maia’s discarded arrow and plunged it into Iska’s side.
The roar that came from her mouth was equal parts fury and pain. Blood, hot and wet, spilled over Dimas’s hand, but he did not let go until Iska’s eyes began to flutter. Her consciousness slipped as the poison from Maia’s arrow took effect.
“No!” His uncle’s piercing shout echoed throughout the cavern. Roston had turned away from Lena and was gathering the energy he’d formed into a shield back into his hands. Even with one pillar down, Dimas knew the blow would be too large to dodge.
Which was why, as Casimir crept up the steps on the opposite side of the dais and approached Roston with a dagger in his hand, Dimas remained where he was.
He watched as Casimir plunged the dagger into his uncle’s back.
