“Come,” Qurrah said, grabbing his brother’s arm and pulling him further up the stairs. “Our time is short.”
“Yeah,” Harruq said, wiping blood from his face and following after.
T essanna stood before the throne room, openly weeping. Her face was not of sorrow, though, but of vicious, unbridled fury. In the corner Velixar lay curled on his hands and knees, gasping out labored breaths as he watched the girl with blackest eyes approach the dying portal.
“You both were fools to try what you did,” she said to Velixar without looking at him. “Neither of you could have survived without my help. Mommy would have torn you to pieces.”
She spun and glared at Karak’s prophet.
“I’ve carried the burden, same as you both,” she said. “But I hid it. You never saw it, never felt it, but I’m why you two never crumpled under the weight. Thousands of troops, you damn fool.”
She turned back to the portal and took another step. It swirled a dark blue, and within its ripples she saw hundreds of stars. She lifted her arms and let her tears fall.
“He’s gone,” she said. “His hold on the portal is gone. You feel it too, don’t you? Of course you do. That’s why you’re a crumpled child. My lover’s gone. He’s cursed me, blamed me, and abandoned me. What am I to do, pawn of a death god? What do I do?”
The drain of the portal was an acute pain in her mind, and with all her focus she grabbed it, held it firm.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” she said to Velixar. “If I’m a disease to this world, then I’ll burn the world away. I will give you what you want. What you’ve always wanted. Will you live to see it?”
She poured all her power, the power of a goddess, into tearing open the portal. It swirled larger and larger, and the entire castle shook beneath her feet. She never heard the castle doors swing open, but when Qurrah’s voice rang out behind her, she spun, tears of blood running down her face.
“Qurrah?” she asked, her hair fluttering in an ethereal wind.
“Don’t!” he shouted as loud as he could. “Forgive me, Tess, I was wrong. Close the damn thing!”
Her mouth dropped open. Her black eyes flared red and white. She was furious at his earlier words. She was joyful he was alive. She was confused by the sight of Harruq with him, and she was afraid of what it might mean. And above all, she was hurt, very hurt.
“No,” she said. “You’ve earned this.”
A final wave of her hand and the portal stretched wall to wall, filling the entire castle with its glow. Air blasted outward. Harruq held onto his brother, lifting an arm and bracing his body against the door to hold them still. In the corner, Velixar laughed.
The portal rippled. A frightening stillness filled the room, broken only by their breathing and Velixar’s maniacal laughter.
“What have you done?” Harruq dared ask.
And then Thulos, god of war, stepped through the portal and into the land of Dezrel.
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The Shadows of Grace h-4 Page 34