“You killed it,” she said again, “from the minute you left your precious castle and came to its river. Came to its home.” She walked right up to him, glaring up at him as she jutted her chin out and poked him in the chest with her wand. Phillip sucked in an uneasy breath as the wand’s lethal tip rested just over his heart. “To kill it.”
Wait. No.
What?
Bristling, he started, “I never meant to—”
“ 'I wanted to defeat it,' ” she said, repeating his earlier words. “That’s what you said,” she accused, her wings fluttering with fury now, lifting her off the ground, “isn’t it?” She paced in the air, flitting this way and that. “How exactly did you expect to defeat it?”
“I,” Phillip stuttered. “I,” he paused a moment, “I just would.”
“Like you defeated that dragon last month that was in the caves on the edge of Shadow Mountain’s territory?” Pix asked. “She died, you know? You landed a blow to her stomach while she was protecting her eggs and you and your noble army of knights left her there to bleed out. Left her eggs undefended so, by the time I found them, they were nothing but broken shells, lifeless before the ever took breath.” She shook her head at him, her twitchy nose wrinkled in disgust. “Just because you don’t have the stomach to stick around long enough to see them actually die, doesn’t mean you didn’t kill them.”
“You killed the river bull!” he insisted. She was no better than he was. She was worse. She, like the dragon and the beast—and even those eggs—was evil. Deserved...
What was coming to them.
“At least I gave it a decent death,” she snapped back, coming close to hover in the air above him. She shoved her face close to his, glaring down into his eyes. “It was going to kill you.” She flit back and heaved a heavy breath. “You were going to kill it.” She shook her head, her short, black strands flying about her head. “You both would have likely died—painfully and slowly. This way, at least, one of you lives and the other died with dignity. Neither of you suffered.” She scoffed. “Which is more than you deserve.”
Phillip blinked at her blankly. “It was a monster.”
“You invaded its home,” she growled, diamond tears glittering in her hard eyes. “You snuck up and attacked it while it slept.” She shook her head in disbelief and scoffed. “And it’s the monster? You're the hero? Who taught you that?”
She was crying. Panic filled him as his gaze narrowed on the tears that filled her eyes but didn’t dare fall. Frog it all, give him a dragon, a troll, or an army of goblins. But not a crying woman.
He didn’t know what to do with that.
“I,” he sputtered, his face paling, not sure at all what to say. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes darkened as she shook her head. “No, you’re not,” she said, with such surety. With doubtless conviction. Cold dread shivered up his spine as a sharp smile spread across her face. “But you will be.”
With a flick of her wrist, she raised her wand. Then there was a shot of sparkling, glittering light.
And then nothing, just an empty, endless dark.
* * *
She figging hated royals!
Pix’s fists clenched as she glared at the unconscious prince at her feet.
“What do we do with him now?” Slyth asked as he slithered over the rocks.
She ought to just kill him too. Let him bleed out on the shore where the river bull had died. Where he had snuck in here, invaded its home, and tried to destroy everything.
In her mind, she could still smell the smoke she’d felt choking her since her first breath. She thought of every moment she should have had with her mother, but hadn’t. Because some hero thought the world would be better without them in it.
She should kill him. Defeat him.
It would serve him right. It would be justice. Her wand lengthened as she gripped it tight, the tip of it sharpening to a deadly point. It would be so easy.
“You’re not going to kill him,” Lethe said as she flew over her shoulder, “are you? I mean.” She twittered hesitatingly. “He did kind of save you.”
Pix turned to glare at her. He did not save her. She could’ve handled it. She didn’t need him to save her.
“And you did save him,” Lethe quickly pointed out. “It seems counterintuitive to kill him now, after having gone through the trouble of saving him and all. And you know how you hate to do pointless things.”
Pix rolled her eyes.
Fine.
She flicked her wand, raising his prone body up. With a smug smirk, she twirled her wrist, causing his body to tip and turn until he floated in front of her upside down, nose to nose with her.
Perfect.
“Pix,” Lethe scolded.
“He’s alive,” she snapped. And, like she’d said, it’s better than his kind deserved. “And we have a three-days’ travel and, unless you have a better way to carry him...” she trailed off as she stared down the small bird—large for a crow, but still too frail for the task.
The crow fluttered indignantly, but said nothing.
Pix sniffed. That’s what she thought.
She started to walk, smiling as she thought of the unconscious princeling bobbing up and down by his ankles behind her.
READ PART THREE HERE
No comments:
Post a Comment