“What will you do to my people?” she asked, remaining seated.
“They will serve Karak, or they will die,” Melorak said.
“Then I pray many join me in death,” she said.
Melorak smirked.
“Such cowardice,” he said. “Die well, Queen.”
He pressed his palm against her face. Before he could cast his spell, she pulled a dagger from underneath the folds of her dress and stabbed it into his eye. Melorak shrieked and staggered back. Black liquid ran down his face. In his fury, he cast a spell, annihilating the entire throne in a great explosion of lightning. With his lone good eye, he stared at the queen’s corpse, his dead heart throbbing with hatred as he yanked out the dagger.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said as servants of Karak poured into the castle, searching for any remaining soldiers. “The city is ours.”
Far above Dieredon flew, watching the waves of undead filter through the streets. When he flew over the wall he saw the soldiers surrendering their weapons. Above him, the lion roared one last time before dissolving into smoke. The battle was over.
Karak had won.
22
H arruq flew in the arms of an angel, Aurelia and Tarlak at either side. Before them loomed Veldaren, the city a dark specter in the early morning. No fires lit the streets, and no torches marked the castle.
“They will be ready for us,” his angel shouted over the rushing wind. “I will do my best, but be prepared to drop at any time.”
“Will do!” Harruq shouted back.
It seemed the entire city was empty, but then the sky filled with crimson armor. Demons flew into the air, gathering in formations to counter the waves of angels that approached. Harruq’s group split in two, each one heading for a gate. If they were lucky they would be poorly guarded. Antonil’s troops marched after, awaiting signal from either gate that it was open.
Demons lined the walls, and as they neared hurled their spears. Harruq closed his eyes and winced, waiting for either he or his angel to be hit. Neither was. He opened his eyes again to watch the wall go whizzing underneath them. Tarlak and Aurelia veered toward the western gate. He had time to see only a confused look on Aurelia’s face before they were gone, dropped onto the streets amid countless demons.
Harruq sighed, praying for their safety as his angel dipped down, trying to avoid the battle erupting all around them. Ahaesarus and Judarius led the bulk of their forces above the city, and like at Mordeina they showered the ground with blood and corpses.
“Anywhere near the center of the city,” Harruq shouted. “I’ll find him from there.”
“We’ve been spotted,” his angel cried, glancing behind him. He beat his wings faster, but he carried a load, and the two demons that chased after were light and fast.
“Good luck,” the angel shouted, dipping down and letting go. Harruq tucked and rolled as he’d been taught, feeling like a child’s plaything as he bounced along. He emerged relatively unscathed and unnoticed, the two demons chasing after the angel instead of going for him.
“All right, Qurrah,” he said, looking about the empty street. “Where the Abyss are you?”
T hey waited at the shattered remnants of Veldaren’s fountain. It was the only place that made sense. Qurrah stared at the crumpled pieces of what had once been the image of a mighty king. He had met Tessanna at that fountain, mesmerized by her beauty, her strangeness, and her blood dripping from her wrist to the water. The main roads from both gates met there before turning north toward the castle. If his brother was to pass through the city, he was most likely to meet him there.
“What do you plan to do?” Tessanna asked. She leaned against the toppled stone horse the statue had ridden upon. She stared at her hands, unwilling to look her lover in the eye.
“I’m not sure,” Qurrah said. He scanned the sky, filled with demons and angels locked in combat. He heard sounds from both gates, and several trumpet calls.
“What happens when they arrive, Qurrah?” she asked. She glanced at him, only briefly. “What happens then?”
“I said I don’t know!” He made a movement with his hands, as if dismissing the whole notion. “And it doesn’t matter.”
“If Tarlak or his wife is with him, they will attack me,” Tessanna said. “Or my mirror, she will attack as well. What do you want me to do?”
“It won’t happen,” Qurrah said. This time he avoided her stare. “I want you to leave me be.”
Tessanna’s eyes widened. Her face locked into a ferocious stare, as if chiseled out of marble.
“You bastard,” she said. “You want to die, don’t you?”
“It’s more than that,” Qurrah said.
“No!” she shouted. “You lied. You’ve lied to me, again and again. You won’t seek forgiveness of your guilt, and you won’t rise above it either, so you crawl to your brother and beg for death?”
“Enough!” Qurrah shouted. He turned toward her, clutching his whip in his left hand. Tessanna felt her heart shiver at the way he looked at her. She wasn’t a lover to him, not then. She wasn’t even a friend.
“You coward,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “What will you tell him? That it was all my fault? I have loved you, in all my frailty. Everything I’ve asked of you, I did because I loved you.”
“Does it even matter?” Qurrah asked. “What good has come of it?”
She took a step back as if stabbed.
“We made a child,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “We gave each other warmth.”
“Then why?” asked Qurrah. “Why did you sleep with Jerico?”
She bit her lip and had no answer.
“You always ask why you’re not enough, why I don’t accept you as you are,” he continued. “But what of him? Am I not enough for you? What warmth can I be if you go fucking another man?”
She clutched her arms and looked around. She couldn’t stand the way he looked at her. She felt wretched and vile. It felt like the whole world would better for her own death, like a disease being cleansed from the flesh of Dezrel.
“I hate you,” she said. “So much, I hate you.”
She ran north, toward the castle. Qurrah watched her go, the wound in his heart bleeding all the more. Angels died in the sky. Blood fell like rain. Demons joined the angels. Several fell nearby, and he stared at their bodies with a creeping disinterest. He kept searching for troops, listening for armies, but none appeared. And then he saw his brother. He walked down the street, his swords drawn and held low at his sides. Qurrah felt a sudden flush of shame. An urge to flee gripped him, and he almost surrendered to it. Coward, Tessanna had called him. Deep down, he shoved his fear, his shame. He would not give in. Not now.
“You’ve lost,” Harruq said as he approached. He kept his swords ready, certain bloodshed was to follow.
“Perhaps,” Qurrah said, gesturing to the skies where demons and angels battled. “But what does it matter to you and I?”
“The whole world’s crumbling,” said Harruq. “I think that matters a bit to us.”
Harruq tensed as his brother stepped toward him. He braced for a spell, but something was wrong. Tears flowed down the scars on his brother’s face.
“My child,” he said. “My daughter. She died, brother. I held her in my arms, but no life, none.” He shook his head, and in his eyes, Harruq watched something break.
“Qurrah,” he started to say, but his brother cut him off.
“Let me speak,” Qurrah said. “I understand now. I cannot imagine your suffering. I’ve had only a taste, but the pain crushes me and robs my sleep of rest. My child never lived. Yours did, and I stole that from you.”
He fell to his knees and lowered his head. He could not meet his brother’s eyes, which like his, welled with tears.
“I have but one request,” Qurrah said, his hissing voice cracking. “Kill me now, and make it quick. I can bear this guilt no more. For all you have done, I owe you this.”
Harruq felt his swords shake in his hands. He stepped forward, and the times he had fought with his brother flashed before his eyes. He had refused to kill Qurrah before. Because of that, demons now flooded the lands. Because of his choice, many had died.