Page 107 of Treasured
It was my turn to stare at her. Price? I didn’t care about that. Power was the only thing that mattered. Nicolas had betrayed me. My sons all betrayed me. No one could be trusted.
“What are you saying?”
Momentary lucidity flashed through her eyes. “The ones you’ve sacrificed are in the Void,” she hissed.
The Void? Why were we talking about that?
I slapped her, the sound echoing through the cave. “I don’t care about that!” I yelled. “Tell me how to fix my jewel.”
“They speak and speak and speak, never stopping. Loud, loud, loud, they yell. I know what you’ve done. Who you are. I know what you’ve become.” A maddening, crazed laugh slipped from Koleta’s lips. Goosebumps covered my arms. “Perhaps the voices spoke to me. Perhaps I decided I’d had enough.”
“Speak plainly, witch!” I was going to strangle her if I didn’t get some answers.
Koleta stood on shaky legs. “Time and again, you took, took, took.” She raised a finger and pointed it at me. “Maybe the ruby has decided you’ve taken enough. Maybe, after all these years, it decided that you have claimed more than your fair share of power.”
“Fair share? There is no such thing! All the power is mine.” I scowled. “Why didn’t you bring this up last year? You told me that if I released the People of the Night—”
“Did you?” Koleta interrupted me as a massive grin spread over her face. She looked far too delighted for a witch who’d been imprisoned for centuries on end. She danced, hopping from one foot to the other like the fool she was. “Did you do it? Did you let them out?”
I stilled. Why did she care about the People of the Night? My mind raced to put together the pieces, but I was missing something. Why would Koleta care about Ithiar’s fanatics? She had been imprisoned for centuries before I locked them up in what remained of Whiterose.
“What did you do?” I snarled.
The witch laughed. “Perhaps, Queen Marguerite, I grew tired of this imprisonment. Tired of this icy cavern you abandoned me in, making it my home, my prison, my life. Perhaps I grew tired of life in general.”
Those elephants stomped on my chest. My breath caught. My eyes widened. A growl rumbled through me. “What?”
“Perhaps I grew tired of you. Perhaps there is a prophecy. A harbinger, a Sunwalker, and a Wielder of Shadows. A path of light, not of darkness.” Koleta sneered. “Perhaps a certain elderly priest visited me a few years ago and told me of your crimes. He, too, sought a way to free himself from your horrid rule. Perhaps I decided what he offered me was better than life in this frozen prison.”
It took a few moments for her words to sink in, but when they did, shock and horror ran through me. This was her doing. She… knew?
“You planned this?” I gasped.
“Planned?” Koleta laughed. “Queen Marguerite, I’ve been in this prison for so long, I don’t even remember what the sun looks like. Not only did I plan this, but I set everything in motion. Have you noticed, perhaps, the graying of your hair? The wrinkles on your face?” A horrible, menacing, gummy scowl overtook her face. “Even your vampiric beauty cannot compete with the blackened husk of an organ that used to be your heart.”
Gray hair? My heart stopped. No. It couldn’t be. My hand flew to my head of its own volition, and I yanked out a handful of hair. Black strands filled my palm, but among them was a single gray stand. It was a gods-damned beacon of my waning power. “No!”
“Yes.” The witch cackled. “When endless decades went by, and my imprisonment continued, I knew I had to make a change. Slowly, so slowly, I worked. The prophecy, you see, has been around for centuries. But the rest? The ruby draining? Ciro? Your loss of power?”
She mockingly curtsied, her rags barely clinging to her frame. “That was all me. You see, Queen Marguerite, I’m done with life. And since you ensured my existence consisted of nothing more than a frozen hellscape, I decided to take you with me.”
Snarling, I opened my hands. How dare she speak to me in such a way? Did she not remember who I was?
Shadows flooded the prison.
“I’m going to kill you!” I yelled.
Koleta did not flinch. “Night is here; death has come; betrayal is in the—”
She never finished her horrid lullaby. I ripped out her jugular with my fangs. Her disgusting blood was like rancid wine left out too long. I spat it out, dumping her body in a heap.
I lifted my head to the icy ceiling and howled my anger.
Once again, I was alone.
The witch had played me. She’d told me the gods had spoken to her; that if I released the People of the Night, I would gain immeasurable power. If I freed them, Ithiar would be pleased, and I would be the strongest queen in all the Four Kingdoms. I could take over the entire continent if I wanted. The world, even.
I’d come to visit her at Ciro’s suggestion.