Crimson eyes swept the room, taking in the occupants as if weighing their worth. When Vestra stepped forward, her power was a physical presence in the air. The very weight of the Fourth Circle Vis’ strength seemed to push down on all of them. Even passive, only held rather than unleashed, that power set Esharah’s legs trembling.

  “What happened here?” Vestra asked. Her voice was calm. Vestra vis Nightblood was most dangerous when calm. The last time Esharah had felt her sister’s presence without the distraction of the Thorn was two years ago. Now, Esharah could feel clearly feel the pride and wrath she’d watched grow their whole lives, from watching Vestra fight petty street rats like them on the streets of Northstar to watching her crush tribes and armies in the empire’s name.

  “Vestra!” Erdrak called out, lurching forward best as he could with arms chained behind him and ankles bound. “Prisoner revolt. Yvris lost his grip. They took the book and-”

  “And you lost?” When Vestra’s gaze turned to meet her lover, her wrath turned in his direction as well.

  “It was...it was a dirty trick!” Erdrak flinched back from her glare and stammered, the strength of his anger melting beneath the heat of her scorn. “I killed a dozen of them! I crushed that zhagra even with his runes!” Erdrak paused the desperate tale to give Logash a venomous glare. “The voidtouched got the manacles on me with a trick, and-”

  “You lost,” Vestra said, voice so dripping with disappointment Esharah didn’t need her empathy to interpret the emotions.

  Fear rose in Erdrak’s soul as the conversation focused on a very different direction than he’d clearly expected. “That’s...that’s not...they’re traitors! Crush them!”

  “Much as I hate seeing you like this, Draku, I’m not here for you,” Vestra said, turning away. “Aeli, are you all right?”

  Aeli?

  Etrani stepped forward, bowing slightly. Esharah hadn’t focused her empathy on the publicar at all. Now that she did, there was none of the fear or tension that the rest of them held at Vestra’s presence. Only relief.

  “Yes, Tetravis,” Etrani said. The title was a formal one, rarely used now for Vis of the Fourth Circle, but Etrani’s tone made it almost a term of endearment. “I’m glad to see you here. I need to inform you that the report I sent to Governor Iraias was false.”

  Vestra stared at her, face twitching in amusement, “Obviously. That’s why I’m here. That report was the biggest pile of horseshit I’ve ever seen.”

  “Yes, it was painful to write,” Etrani winced as if the memory did indeed cause her physical pain. Her emotions confirmed the memory was indeed a critical part of what she considered “torture” at Yvris’ hands. “I was forced to write it at Yvris’ hand. He...bound me with his Book of Sins.” She raised her left hand, still bandaged from the cut used to mark her handprint.

  Anger flashed in Vestra’s mind. Esharah suppressed the resentful thought that rose up: where was that anger for Esharah’s suffering?

  “Give your real report now,” Vestra said.

  “You can’t listen to this lying bitch,” Erdrak shouted out. “She-”

  Vestra covered the distance between them in an instant, knocking Ouron aside by pure accident., sending the veteran staggering back until his arm could grab hold of the table to steady himself. Her hand clamped around Erdrak’s throat, and she slammed the ogre against the wall. With no more effort than if Erdrak were a child’s doll, she held him up with one hand while the other gripped his cheek.

  “Draku,” Vestra said. “Talk that way about Aelia again, and I’ll rip out your tongue. Got it?” Her fingers prised open his mouth.

  Erdrak’s eyes bulged. He gasped and nodded quickly. No sign of the domineering captain, or even the raging beast struggling in chains. Vestra had the ogre reduced to a trembling mass, his mind awash in terror.

  “Good. You’re not a bad lover, but Aeli’s a better friend,” Vestra lowered Erdrak to the floor, still keeping a hand on his neck while looking at Etrani. “Continue.”

  “As...as summary,” Etrani fought past the nerves born from that display of violence to speak. “Hellfrost is in a state of disaster. Imperial funds totaling thousands of aurams misappropriated and funnelled into Yvris’ private ownership. Lives of prisoners wasted out of petty malice. The torture, execution, and mutilation of prisoners, wardens, and even myself.”

  “And the cause?” Vestra asked.

  “The fault, in my judgement, lies chiefly in the mismanagement of Executor Yvris and Captain Erdrak,” Etrani replied.

  “That...a lie...” Erdrak choked out past Vestra’s grip. “That’s a godsdamned lie. I’m not-”

  Vestra’s wing struck faster than Esharah’s eyes could track. One instant curled at her back. The next unfurled, featherlike bone protrusions sharp as sabres as they stabbed into Erdrak’s body. The force slammed Erdrak back against the wall hard enough to shake the room, pinning the ogre like a moth on a pin. He stared in mute shock down at the bone blades stabbed into him, piercing his throat and chest. Blood dribbled out his mouth as words failed to come.

  “I hoped,” Vestra glanced to the side and give him a last pat on the cheek, “that you’d be better than this, Draku. I really did. I guess I’m still a bad judge of men.” The bones retracted, and Erdrak’s corpse fell to the floor, still thrashing briefly before the body finally went still. Vestra wiped her bloody hand off on her shirt and turned back to the group.

  All of them stared at Erdrak’s corse, so suddenly destroyed. Even bound with the manacles, all of them had struggled to subdue him. Vestra killed him as easily as one might crush a bug.

  “Aeli,” she continued, speaking as if nothing had happened, “where is Yvris?”

  “In...in the cells,” Etrani swayed on her feet, and Esharah rushed to give a soothing touch on her mind before the publicar fainted. It was not the time to collapse. Not when Etrani might be the one able to talk Vestra down from butchering them all. “But...he cannot die yet. He needs to testify to Governor Iraias...”

  “Right, right,” Vestra waved it off. “I know. Iraias told me. I’ll take care of that. But first...I need to figure out what to do with the rest of you.” Her eyes swept the gathered former prisoners, bringing up a fresh wave of fear and tension from them. She gave Esharah a wink, “Esha, this wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I told you to get stronger here.”

  “Can...can you blame me for this?” Esharah couldn’t stop the question. Couldn’t stop the bitterness seeping out from her words.

  Vestra gave Esharah a pained smile. The regret there seemed authentic enough. “No. I don’t. Yvris and, unfortunately, Erdrak needed to go. However...the rest of you are still prisoners in open rebellion.”

  “We only fought to free ourselves,” Aven said, stepping forward, “we are no enemies of the empire.”

  Esharah shot Aven a mental warning, but the voidtouched man did not stand down.

  “And you succeeded. Commendable,” Vestra gave an approving nod, eyes running over Aven with an interest not restricted solely to the marks of his voidtouched nature. She took a deep breath, steel coming to her eyes, “However, much as he deserved it, you put my lover in chains. That is personal.” Vestra held up a hand, and the black wings flexed, bone sharpening to scythes once again. “That demands repayment.” Her gaze fell on Logash, “You...Logash, was it? Remember the challenge I gave you in our little tussle in the mountains?”

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  Logash’s jaw set and the zhagra nodded. “Of course. If I could get one good hit on you, you’d leave me alive.”

  “And you did,” Vestra smiled. “Quite a good hit. I had the bruise for a month. Almost as good as Erdrak’s when he took that same challenge.”

  “Not good enough,” the ogre’s voice was dry, but a ripple flowed across the placid lake of his mind. “You’re still alive.”

  Vestra laughed. The sound was startlingly bright for someone covered in fresh blood and about to start another slaughter. “Maybe. Here’s your next chance. I’ll offer that challenge again to the rest of you.” Her arms spread. “Or a choice. Surrender, and I’ll kill half the people in this room before I leave. That’s enough repayment. Otherwise...you can fight. If any one of you gets a good hit on me, I’ll spare you. Fail, and I’ll kill you all.” A pause, “Aeli and Esha excepted, of course.”

  Relief. Esharah couldn’t stop the selfish emotion joining with the alarm she felt at the danger towards the others. The same mix echoed in Etrani. The others in the room exchanged looks with each other, and the tension grew even thicker in the air. Esharah caught Aven looking to her for a solution, and Esharah had none. Vestra’s offer was as close as they would get. One way or another, this would be a slaughter. A slaughter they would have to watch.

  “Vestra,” Esharah tried, even knowing it was hopeless. “Please-”

  “Choose,” Vestra said to them, completely ignoring Esharah’s pathetic plea. As she had ignored Esharah for years. Or worse, made her attention a greater curse than her neglect.

  “Tetravis, this is not a proper way of resolving the situation,” Etrani at least managed to get a full sentence in.

  “This isn’t a legal matter,” Vestra gave Etrani a full glare for the first time, and the publicar scurried back in terror. “I’m sparing you because you’re my friend, and because Governor Iraias will be unhappy if any harm comes to you. Don’t push for more.”

  Now, Etrani’s dismay and helplessness finally mirrored Esharah’s own.

  “Well?” Vestra asked, beckoning the others in challenge.

  The prisoners glanced to each other - along with Akra who looked completely overwhelmed at being caught it such a situation.

  The silence broke when Logash charged with a roar.

  The others moved in unison. Ouron stomped the ground, and a ripple moved through the blackstone floor. Akra raised her hand, and a lance of light burst out. Aven struck with his voidclaw.

  Vestra barely moved. The aura of her power burst out, the weight of Fourth Circle Vis’ power unleashed in full. The domain she’d forged from the moment she took over their gang of street kids when Esharah was only eight: the Soul of the Conqueror. Akra’s lance flickered out of existence in midair, and the guard collapsed to her knees. The ground itself stopped, Ouron’s earth vis shattered by Vestra’s power as her soul overpowered his. The veteran soldier remained standing, but it took all his will. Aven’s voidhand scattered to mist.

  Logash kept moving. Even wounded, even battered, even with broken bones and bruised limbs from fighting Erdrak. He struck with all his might. Even at a mere fraction of the ogre’s full strength, the blow still came down like an avalanche. Vestra caught the punch with one hand.

  “You were stronger before,” Vestra commented mildly. “Even wounded more than this. I beat you until you were barely conscious, and you still put up more of a fight. Where did that wrath go?”

  “I forswore that path a long time ago,” Logash grunted, pushing against Vestra’s strength. As vainly as a man trying to move a mountain. “I broke that oath for you once. Never again.” His other arm swung, but Vestra stepped smoothly aside and grabbed the back of his neck. “I hope,” she hurled his massive body as easily as if it were a child’s ball, “that pride is worth your life.” Logash crashed against the stone wall and groaned feebly on the ground.

  Ouron tried another burst of his earth attunement, but once again the weight of Vestra’s power snuffed it out. He stood firmly, lashing out with his good arm when Vestra approached, but she caught it with even more ease than she had Logash’s strike. Their gazes met.

  “A stoneshield?” her eyebrows raised. “I’ve met stoneshields before. You’re a dull lot. You might be...a bit better than most, though. I’ll give you that much.”

  Ouron grunted and tried to kick out, but Vestra threw him aside like trash.

  Only Aven stood before her.

  “The voidtouched,” Vestra smiled as she approached him, interest sparking in her eyes. “Erdrak said you beat him with a dirty trick. Care to show it to me?”

  Aven raised his hands, “I think it’s clear that no trick I have could defeat one such as you.”

  “Smart,” Vestra commented. In disappointment. “Pity. Men are better when they’re stupid.” She raised her hand to swat Aven aside, almost lazily, like a cow’s tail batting away a fly.

  When she struck, Aven split. Two Avens, one translucent and made of black voidmist, the other solid. The form of mist scattered as she struck. The other attacked, slashing claws at her eyes. Even shocked, Vestra’s reflexes moved faster than any mortal could track, hand whipped up to smash the hand apart. In the brief opening of that block, the other hand lunged, a spear of shadow headed straight for Vestra’s throat.

  Esharah’s hope soared. It fell just as swiftly when Vestra caught the spear.

  Not, however, before it touched her throat. A brief, tiny spark of pain flashed in Vestra’s emotions, followed soon after by elation.

  “That,” Vestra smiled broadly, jerked Aven in and pinning his arms behind his body, “was a good trick.” She dabbed at her neck, a faint smudge of red on the midnight blue skin. She glanced around at the bodies on the ground. None were dead. Yet. “Hm...good enough to spare all your lives, though? I don’t know-”

  Esharah felt the aftereffects of the split hit Aven’s mind right before he slumped forward and vomited a mass of black bile on Vestra’s front. The Fourth Circle Vis blinked, shock overwhelming interest for a brief moment before rage hit. Esharah winced as Aven’s body flew across the room with even more force than the others had. He hit the far wall and fell, unmoving.

  “Right,” Vestra said, rage cooling as quickly as it had struck, a flash of lightning now faded. The cold purpose that replaced that rage was no less terrifying. “All of you die.”

  None were left standing to fight her. None except Esharah.

  Vestra stared at her when Esharah approached, “Esha, what are you doing?”

  “One good hit, right?” Esharah said.

  Her sister didn’t even give Esharah the respect of taking the challenge seriously. Not even as a joke. It was only pity, scorn in her emotions. “You don’t even have a physical domain. What do you think you-”

  Esharah reached out and touched her sister’s mind. Twin domains, the Mindspeaker and Empathy connected Esharah were her sister. Without the Thorn, Esharah no longer had the constant pulse of pain afflicting her, but she still carried two years of pain etched into her soul. Two years of torture.

  She forced the memory into Vestra’s mind. Yvris slashing open her palm. The sensation of tearing deep inside her as the Book of Sins’ contract forced its way into her being. The Thorn piercing her back, stabbing deep into her flesh and filling the hole in her soul that the book left behind with constant agony. A never-ending reminder that her existence belonged to another. A thing to use. To control. To discard.

  More than the pain, the feeling of abandonment, the knowledge that her own sister had sent her to this place. A punishment for refusing the cruelty, the power that Vestra held so dear. For failing to be what Vestra wanted her to be.

  The next memories. Chained to other prisoners, feeling their pain as her own. The searing fire of the Book of Sins’ in her soul. The Thorn drinking the pain, multiplying it, haunting her every moment with it. Shrieks sounding in her ears as the chained prisoners lost their minds to the power-

  Esharah was flung out of her sister’s mind as Vestra lashed out with a cry. The blow only glanced her, but the force still shot Esharah back against the dining table She gasped, sucking in air and blinking the spots away from her vision as she sat up. The pain in her back was nothing compared to what she’d just shared with Vestra

  Vestra shook, stepping back, hand to her temple. Unable to handle mere seconds of the life Esharah had led for years.

  “That,” Esharah met her sister’s eyes, “was my first day in Hellfrost.”

  “Yvris did that to you?” Pain gave way to rage in Vestra’s mind. “If I knew, I’d have killed him myself-”

  “You did that to me,” Esharah answered. “Yvris was the one who wielded the knife and put the Thorn in my back, but you put me here in Hellfrost. Don’t try to say you didn’t know. You knew he would do something to me. That’s what you said I needed, isn’t it? To learn discipline?”

  Vestra shook her head. Even now, Esharah couldn’t feel an ounce of regret.

  “I sent you to Hellfrost because I hoped you could be stronger,” Vestra said, looking at Esharah for the first time she could remember without scorn. “You are. You could never have given me a blow that good two years ago.” She smiled, “I’m proud of you, Esha.”

  Esharah tried to force her disgust on Vestra, but her sister was shielding her mind now, her soul domain strong enough to block Esharah’s presence, “I don’t want your pride.”

  “You still have it,” Vestra turned away. “Aeli, show me where they’re keeping Yvris. I’ll take him to Governor Iraias.” A deep breath, “And I expect I’ll be back soon to deliver the governor’s judgement on Hellfrost. Whatever it might be.” She glanced back at Aven, who was rising with a groan. “You, voidtouched, what’s your name?”

  Aven paused mid-clutching his head, “Aven Arvanius.”

  “If you dirty my boots like that again, you’ll be cleaning them with your tongue,” Vestra said.

  Aven grimaced and nodded weakly, “I’ll...keep that in mind.”

  “Good,” she smiled. “Then I’ll see you again, Veni.”

  She gestured for Etrani to follow and disappeared into the fortress.

  Aven stared at Esharah, dismay in his voice, “Veni?”

  “I think,” Esharah said slowly, sharing Aven’s discomfort, “she likes you.”

  Aven groaned louder and slumped against the wall, glancing over to where Erdrak’s corpse lay, “I think I’d prefer her hatred.”

  “No,” Esharah fought back the memories of all the things she’d seen Vestra do to those she truly hated, “you wouldn’t.”

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