A Memory of Fire (The Dragon War, Book 3) (15 page)

Tilla's eyes burned, but she
tightened her lips, refusing to show emotion. Her insides trembled.

She didn't want to do this. She
didn't want to hurt him. She wanted this to end—to flee this tower,
this blood, this pain. Yet if she ran, Shari would never stop
hurting Rune. If she ran, they would hunt her down, and she would
hang here too.

"Rune," she whispered.
She held his cheeks, moved her face close, and pleaded with him.
"Please, Rune. Do as I say."

Hands grabbed her shoulders.
Shari tugged her back.

"Lanse!" she said.
"Do you disobey me? Draw your dagger. Do it now!"

The princess growled, face red
and wild, the face of a demon. If Shari lunged at her, sank her
teeth into her flesh, and feasted like a wolf, Tilla would not be
surprised.

"I'm sorry, Rune," she
whispered. "I must do this."

She coiled her trembling fingers
around her dagger's hilt. Her breath shook as she drew the blade.
The dagger felt so heavy in her palm. It caught the torchlight and
gleamed red as if already bloodied.

"Now..." Shari tapped
her fingers against her hip. "This boy tore off my wing. He
crippled me. He made me only half a dragon. I think... it's time to
repay him in kind. What do you think, Lanse?"

Tilla swallowed.

Please
don't make me do this,
she prayed.
Please,
stars, please, old gods or new.
Her heart raced. Sweat drenched her. Her chest tightened and she
thought she would collapse.

"I... Commander, what do
you plan?"

Shari laughed, approached Rune,
and stroked the manacles binding his left arm.

"We don't need him chained
by two arms. I do believe he can hang from one just as well."
She licked her lips. "A hand for a wing; seems fitting, does it
not?"

Tilla felt the blood leave her
face. "I can't," she whispered.

"You will!" Shari
said. "Do the deed. Now. Cut him. He took my wing; you will
take his hand."

Rune began to pant. He looked
up, bleeding and beaten, and his chest shook, and finally fear seemed
to fill him.

"Tilla," he said and
pulled his chains. "Tilla, please. Don't. You can end this.
You can—"

"Cut him!" Shari
screamed. Her voice echoed in the chamber. "Cut him, and we
will force him to eat his own hand, and he will scream, and he will
worship us. Hurt him!"

Tilla stood trembling. She
wept. Her dagger wavered.

"Please, I cannot... I
can't do this..."

"You must cut him! You
were his love. You were his friend. You must do this deed."
Shari laughed maniacally. "Watch, boy. Watch! The woman you
loved, the woman you wanted to bed—she will cripple you. Lanse
Tilla, cut him! Cut him or you will join him in chains."

Tilla shook. No. No! She
couldn't do this. What could she do? She took a step closer to
Rune. He tugged mightily on the chains, struggling, shouting at her.

"Please, Rune," she
whispered, tears on her lips. "Please..."

She raised the dagger. He
trembled. She positioned the blade, ready to cut through the joints
of his bones.

"Do it!" Shari
screamed.

"Rune, please," Tilla
whispered.

He stared at her.

The room seemed to freeze.

All sound died, and even the
torches seemed to fall silent.

He lowered his head, and his
chest shook, and he nodded.

"I hail the red spiral,"
he whispered.

Tilla let out a sob, trembled,
and gasped for breath. She pulled her dagger back. It was over.
Thank the stars, it was over. She could be together with Rune
now—like they used to be. They could leave this place. They could
worship Frey together. It was over.

"Speak it louder, Rune,"
she said, smiled tremulously, and touched his cheek. "Worship
the red spiral with all the strength in you."

He shook, his teeth ground
together, and he let out a howl, a howl louder than any of his
screams of pain.

"I hail the red spiral!"

He swung on his chains, heaving
and shaking.

He raised his eyes and looked at
her... and she expected to see relief in them. She expected to see
resignation or pain but also relief... relief that the game was over.
That he had lost and the agony would end.

But instead... instead she saw
horror.

It was not only horror for
himself. She could see that. His eyes were haunted for her.

She saw her reflection in
them—a young woman, her face so pale, her heart withered. She
looked upon herself as she was. She looked upon herself in his
memory. She saw both her lives, past and present. A ropemaker's
daughter and a torturer.

And she understood.

He's
given up on me,
she thought.
That
is the horror in his eyes. He thought that by taking my pain, he
could save me. And now he realized I'm lost to him forever.

She knew then that even now,
even if Shari freed him, even if he lived with her in her home, she
was lost to him. They would never be together as they were.

The
Tilla he loved died. I killed her.

Shari nodded.

"Good...," the
princess said, savoring the word. "Good, very good. He's
finally broken. Sooner than I'd have liked, but I'm pleased."

Tilla lowered her head,
trembling, not knowing if she was relieved or terrified. "I'll
take him to my chamber," she said softly. "I'll find him
armor. Tomorrow he can join the Legions and serve the emperor."

Shari raised her eyebrow.
"Oh... my dear lanse. I believe you've misunderstood. He's not
yet paid his price. Raise your dagger! I will still have you sever
his hand."

Tilla gasped. She could barely
see, and she heard Rune gasp too. She raised her head, eyes wide,
and stared at Shari.

"But... Commander! He's
broken. He hailed the spiral. He—"

"He is not broken,"
Shari said, smiling thinly. "He's still in one piece, isn't he?
My dear child, you are young and innocent. Relesar is lying. He
hailed the red spiral only to save his hand. His words reek of
dishonestly." Shari snickered. "But I see through his
lies. You will break him. Fully. You will sever his hand. And
then you will shatter his bones. And then you will cut off his
manhood and burn it. You will have him crawl in the dust, no longer
a man, no longer human, but a creature, a sniveling maggot that you
created with your blade and hammer. But you'll leave his tongue so
that he can still scream and worship the spiral. It will be all he
can do. And then... then he will be fully broken. Then I will be
avenged. Then, Lanse Tilla Siren, you'll have proven yourself
worthy." Her voice rose to a shout. "Now obey me and
bring me his hand!"

Tilla stared at her princess,
barely able to breathe.

She's
mad,
she realized.
She's
gone mad entirely.
Tilla's eyes burned.
How...
how can I do this? How can I worship her?
Even
Frey did not want this! Even Frey sees reason, not just mad
vengeance.

"Your father—" she
began.

"My father isn't here! I
am your commander. It is I you must obey. Obey me! His hand!"

"Tilla!" Rune cried,
voice choked. "Tilla, please, don't listen to her—"

"Cut him!"

Tilla shook. What could she do?
Stars, what could she do? For so long, she had blamed Rune for
this. For so long, she had thought that if Rune only worshiped the
spiral, this would end. But it wasn't ending. The pain would only
grow, and her soul would only darken, and Rune would only wither into
a beast.

"This is not the way,
Commander," she whispered. "The red spiral is about the
glory of Requiem. If Rune can join us, he—"

"He will join us as a
freak, as a creature for a cage! Cut him! Maim him!" Shari
screamed, saliva spraying from her mouth. Sweat soaked her hair.
She seemed not a human, not a dragon, but a demon. "Cut him
now, or I will cut him, and I will cut you, and I will sew your
twisted bodies together, forming you into conjoined, diseased twins
for my court. Cut him! Cut him or you will suffer!"

Tilla turned back toward Rune.

She shook so madly she could
barely grip her dagger.

She took a step toward him.

Rune stared at her, eyes wide
and damp, and shook his head. His lips trembled.

"Tilla, no," he
whispered, voice cracking. "Please. Tilla..."

She took a shuddering breath.

She placed her dagger against
his wrist, and he closed his eyes and whispered prayers.

She saw it again—the sea at
home. She wove ropes with her father. She sat in the Old Wheel,
drinking ale with Rune, petting his dog, feeling warm and safe. She
walked along the beach, barefoot, and he gave her a seashell
necklace, and she kissed him. And he bled. And her home burned.
And so much blood covered her hands.

I'm
scared too,
he had said to her that day two years ago, standing with her on the
beach in the night, the night before the Legions had drafted her.
But
it will be fine. I promise you, Tilla. Everything will be fine.

"You promised," she
whispered, tears on her lips, and she kissed him again, a last kiss
like their first one, a kiss that tasted of her tears and his blood.

She nodded.

"I have to do this,"
she whispered... and spun around.

She thrust her dagger with a
scream.

The blade crashed into Shari's
chest, driving between her ribs and into her heart.

Shari's eyes widened. She
stared, mouth wide, and for a moment the chamber froze. Nobody
breathed.

"When we first met,"
Tilla whispered, "you told me that you'd keep an eye on me. You
should have kept closer watch."

Snarling, Tilla twisted her
blade.

Blood spread across Shari's
tunic. She stared, silent, and her lips peeled back, and her eyes
blazed, and her hands rose... and she crashed to her knees.

Tilla yanked her blade back.
Shari Cadigus, heir to Requiem, crashed facedown onto the floor. Her
blood pooled.

Tilla spun back toward Rune. He
hung from his chains, frail and beaten, struggling for every breath.
Tilla's fingers shook so madly she could barely grab her keys.

"We have to flee," she
whispered. She touched his cheek and tears stung her eyes. "It's
over now, Rune, but we must flee. Fast. We must run."

Her heart pounded. Stars, if
they were caught...

She unlocked his manacles,
freeing his arms from the chains. For so long, only the chains had
held him standing, not his own feet. Now he wavered and nearly fell.
She grabbed him. She held him up. He leaned against her, legs
rubbery; she supported all his weight.

"I'll have to tie your
wrists," she said. "There are guards downstairs. They'll
think I'm moving you to another cell."

He nodded weakly. She took a
rope from a table. She tied his wrists, making sure the knot was
weak.

"Now let's go," she
whispered. "Step by step. I'm with you."

She slung his arms across her
shoulders. She began to walk. One step. Another. Holding him up.
He moaned and his feet all but dragged across the floor. He was too
hurt, too famished, near death perhaps.

"We have to keep moving,"
she said.

He limped along, his weight
against her, and she heard the smile in his voice.

"I knew you were still
there, Tilla. I knew it."

They reached the chamber door.
Tilla yanked it open, revealing the staircase that spiraled down the
tower. She took the first step, holding Rune tight. He wavered and
Tilla nearly fell. She grabbed the wall for support.

"I know you're hurt, but
we'll have to do this quickly," Tilla said.

With every step, her heart raced
faster, and sweat trickled down her spine. She tried to calm
herself. Shari had died silently; no guards would know Tilla had
slain her. She just had to keep descending, step by step. She just
had to pass the guards outside; they had seen her move Rune through
the Citadel before, and they would let her pass.

And then... what then?

She kept climbing down, Rune's
arms around her.

And then they would have to
leave the city. To flee into the wilderness. They would be hunted.
Frey would never rest from hunting them—the heir of Aeternum and the
woman who slew his daughter.

"We'll find some faraway
place," she said, and her voice shook. "Like you wanted,
Rune. We'll fly as far as we can. We'll keep flying—to the very
end of the world. We will not let them catch us."

She knew what the wilderness
held. Soldiers. Forts. Perhaps starvation and thirst. It was
likely they would fly to their deaths. Yet they would die together,
holding each other, Tilla Roper and Rune Brewer. It would not be a
bad way to die. It would be infinitely better than the death Frey
would give them.

After what seemed like hours,
they reached the bottom of the tower.

Tilla froze and steeled herself.
She forced a deep breath. Behind those doors, two guards awaited,
armored and armed with halberds.

They
will know,
she thought.
They
will see Shari's blood on my hands. They will know and raise the
alarm, and a thousand more soldiers will swoop upon me.

"Be strong, Rune," she
whispered. "You'll have to walk now on your own. I'll pretend
to manhandle you. Act like my prisoner; there are guards outside."

He nodded.

With another deep breath, she
opened the door.

They stepped out into the
courtyard.

The two guards stood there,
covered in black steel. They slammed their gauntlets against their
chests.

"Hail the red spiral!"

Tilla shoved Rune forward. He
stumbled and all but fell, but she grabbed his arms and manhandled
him forward. She glared at the guards as she passed by.