Page 87 of Heartsick
“Did you spell the Nymphs’ magic away?” I surprised even myself with the lack of fury behind my words. If anything, this was more of a revelation. Maybe I couldn’t do this thing for Daethian, but maybe I could help the hundreds of others who still couldn’t defend themselves.
“It was one of King Ganglin’s requests. A loophole or two was easy to sneak into that one.”
Jesseline moved to my side and grabbed her face, holding up her chin. “What’s the loophole?”
“Oh, I can’t actually tell you that.” She laughed and the vines rubbed in an odd squeaking chorus.
Leaning over, I weaved my fingers through King Ganglin’s black hair and held it up to her face. “He isn’t here to control you anymore. He can’t command you or force you back into that fleshy prison.”
“It really was awful,” she whispered. “I could see and hear everything the man did, but I couldn’t move or talk or control anything. I lived through him in some weird state.”
“Break the spell and we will set you free.”
“Ryker!” Jesseline snapped. “You can’t just make that decision.”
“Dace is unconscious and impaled at the moment. I think, as his fiancé, the power then falls to me.”
Jesseline stared in horror at the blood on my hands. “Is that...?”
“No, it’s Daethian’s,” I breathed, turning back to the witch. “Geeta, do you want your freedom?”
“Is this a trick?” she bit out.
“It’s a trade. You give the Nymphs their freedom, and I’ll give you yours.”
Jesseline blew out a long breath in the silence as the witch watched me and I watched her. Geeta never blinked as she searched my face for the truth. When I thought she wasn’t going to agree, she finally smiled.
“Get me out of these shackles and bring me fresh blood.”
“That doesn’t seem like a sound idea,” Jesseline muttered.
“I don’t care anymore.” My eyelids felt heavy, my body physically tired from the emotional waves that kept beating me over and over again. “Something good has to come from this day. Do you have the keys?”
“We can’t do this here.” Jesseline shook her head. “No, we need people with power who can be prepared if this doesn’t work out.”
I didn’t want to hear her logic, even if she was right. Dace wouldn’t want me putting myself in unnecessary danger and neither would Daethian. Maybe all I could chalk this day up to was doing right by them in this moment. Perhaps that was all I could ever really do.
“Fine.” I waved my hands and the vines snapped off the witch, dropping her back to the floor. She landed in a crouch, the chains smacking the ground. “I will make arrangements for you.” I looked down at King Ganglin’s head. “Do you want this?”
The witch nodded eagerly and I tossed it to her. I doubted she’d gather much blood from him since it'd been dripping since he was decapitated, however long ago that was. Some books had suggested that witches occasionally ate flesh too, and something felt rather satisfactory that this had been King Ganglin’s end.
Inside my pocket, the token was heavy and it bounced against my leg as I moved toward the door. Jesseline moved with me, stopping me before I could leave.
“What happened out there?”
I tried not to think about the slurping and tearing noises that came from the feast Geeta was having behind us. My stomach turned at the very thought. So I looked up to Jesseline, trying to form the words.
“Nothing good.” It was all I could manage.
“Was it another assassin attack? I’ve been waiting to see Dace so I could tell him that the man who attacked him in the Acture Court was working for Titan Urbank.”
“Torrance’s dad?” I coughed. So maybe Dace’s friend was innocent.
“Yeah, he has you on his list too. I’m guessing he doesn’t want a Nymph on his throne.” She reached out to touch my arm, then stopped, staring down at my bloody clothes. “You should clean up. What has been done can’t be changed.”
I floated out of the room and down the halls to Dace’s room. My movements were slow and careful. My body felt fragile and my mental state was even weaker. As I stood in the shower, water running over my cheeks and over the dips and curves of my body, I wished that I’d drown in it.
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