Page 83 of The Huntsman's Heart
“Tie her to the stake,” she commands Alaric.
His hands are gentle on the ropes as he unties me and helps me stand. None of this is his fault. I see that now like I never could before.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as he leads me up the three wooden steps.
When I glance up at his face, his expression is pained. He looks away.
I’ve failed him. I did not listen. He was right, as he always was when he told me the truth I did not wish to hear. My poor gargoyles. I’ll never return to them.
Melantha raises her hands and spreads them wide. “Now the witch will burn and we will be free of this plague.”
There’s another cheer as two of the guards hold torches to the fuel below the pyre.
What will it feel like to burn? There’s an awful wait as the fire is lit and the small twigs and animal dung start to burn, and I wonder if it will hurt more than being torn apart by wolves. Will it kill me? Or does the queen have further horrors in store for me? She will never let me go. That I’m sure of.
When the first logs finally catch alight, the flames finally reach high enough to really heat me. People in the crowd grow restless. A woman at the front calls out. I cannot make out the words. Aman with a patchwork cloak throws something, which splatters against the base of the pyre.
I didn’t have time to think when I died on Alaric’s sword. This death is slower, far more awful. There’s so much more time to anticipate the pain.
As the flames rise, I hold back my screams. The heat is searing, but it is only when my clothes catch fire that the sting becomes unbearable. My lips crack as they draw back from my teeth in a grimace, but still I can’t hold back the cry of pain that rips from me.
Melantha’s expression is triumphant. Her guards watch on coldly. It’s only Alaric who is pacing the square, unable to keep still.
When I cry out again, he spins. The look on his face is furious, but as he strides toward the pyre, I catch a glimpse of something else through the flames. Sparks flare and smoke stings my eyes, but there’s a wild look in his blue eyes that is all desperation.
At the foot of the stairs he doesn’t stop. Alaric walks into the fire like it’s an April shower. Like it isn’t licking and snapping at his flesh with a thousand sharp teeth.
My back bows and my fingers and toes clench and I scream. The next moment his arms are around me and he holds me close, dropping his mouth to my ear so I can hear over the crackling fire. “If you burn, I burn with you.”
I’d cry, but the fire snatches my tears before I can weep. It burns the ropes binding my hands, and I fall forward against Alaric. I want to tell him to get out. To leave me and save himself. I cannot. I’m not strong enough to do this without him.
As another sob of pain wracks my body and flings my head back, I stare up at the sky, searching for a star. Wishing a hopeless wish—that this will end—but if the stars are out, they are smothered by thick clouds.
Something jolts the stake so hard I’m almost knocked off my feet. I look but catch only a blur of movement in the sky.
There’s a shout from the crowd and screams. People are pointing.
Melantha shrieks and covers her head, screaming for the guards to protect her. “What new witchcraft is this?”
I almost laugh. Am I hallucinating? I could swear I see my three beautiful gargoyles diving and wheeling in the air above the crowd.
“Finally.” I don’t understand Alaric’s murmur. Next moment he stoops to lift me into his arms. It’s torture everywhere he touches me, but I no longer have the will to scream. I find it, though, when he passes me—still burning—into Raban’s arms as he swoops low above the pyre.
“Take her to the river!”
With powerful beats of his wings, Raban lifts us higher into the sky. Words tumble from my lips. “No. Not the river.”
“Princess, you’re on fire. We need to put you out.”
“No. The queen’s solar. There’s something I must do.”
“Princess—”
“The window. If you love me, then do what I say.”
A tortured look crosses his face, but he beats his wings again and directs us toward the tower. Everything hurts. I don’t dare think about it, though. I must get to Alaric’s heart.
We crash through the window, and I stumble away from Raban before I can set him alight too.
