so in a unique way. My father used water for drowning, my aunt swallows the bones and uses the acid in her stomach to destroy them. I use fire to burn the blood and bones of my victims.
Likely anticipating my request, a Valukan guard obliges by drawing a powerful breath from her gut. When she breathes out again it’s with an extended palm. In it, a tiny flame flickers and stretches to life, building each time the Valukan exhales. She sets the flames upon a small pit built into the cell, created for exactly this purpose, and it flares brightly. I open my palm and dangle the hair above it.
“What’s your name?”
The prisoner’s easy demeanor falters. Her expression becomes tart as she attempts to rise to her feet, but the heavy boots trip her, and there’s nowhere for her to go. Only bound prisoners wait behind her, and a handful of Visidia’s strongest magic wielders before her.
“Don’t try it,” I warn as her eyes flick toward the single exit. “I’ll ask you one more time—what’s your name?” I reach for the satchel on my hip, relishing the way my skin buzzes against the burnished leather, missing having a reason to reach for it. From it, I draw a single tooth and wind the prisoner’s hair around it.
For me, teeth are the most humane way I know to get the amount of blood I need to end a person’s life. While uncomfortable, it’s fairly painless.
I dangle the tooth over the writhing fire, watching as the woman’s jaw twitches in response. Her hard demeanor shatters.
“Please don’t do this,” the woman pleads. “Please, give me another chance.”
My own jaw twitches too, though unlike hers, mine’s from annoyance. I hate being made the villain, especially in front of a crowd. “I asked for your name.”
“Riley,” she says. “It’s Riley Pierce.”
“Riley Pierce, as the Queen of Visidia, it’s my job to keep the kingdom safe. Your soul is a blight; it’s grown corrupted from your crimes, and the people of Visidia have chosen execution as your punishment. If you have any last words, say them now.”
She drops her head, shoulders shaking as I press my palm against them, keeping her on her knees should she try anything.
When she raises her chin again, there’s ice in her eyes. “I hope that you burn.”
They’re words that jolt my mind back two seasons prior, and I think of Father’s lifeless corpse burning in a sea of fire, skin charring and melting from his bones. His blood pooling and boiling around him, turning to tar. I sway as the walls of the prison close in and force myself to draw a deep breath through my nose to steady myself.
Not right now. Not right here. The memories can haunt me later, as they do every time I shut my eyes. But right now, I must maintain my composure.
“One day,” I tell the prisoner, “I’m sure that I will.”
Riley’s eyes flicker to me, confused, but my only response is to drop the tooth wound with her hair into the flame. Her body spasms as blood pools from her gums, staining her teeth and spilling down her lips. I bend to run my finger over it, coating my skin, then smear the blood over two bones—one from a human spine, and another small shard of a skull.
Taking only the briefest moment, I turn to look back at the advisers’ faces. Lord Garrison has gone bone white, while Lord Freebourne’s dark brows furrow as though he’s unsure whether to be appalled or intrigued.
I drop the bloodied bones into the fire, and as they crackle the woman falls. Her spine twists sharply and her skull caves in. She takes one surprised gasp of air before she shudders to the ground, dead.
Death by my hand is never painless—I don’t have the luxury of giving people that—but it can certainly be quick.
With Riley’s limp body before me, I turn to the advisers to see that Lord Garrison has turned away. It’s clear any doubts he had about my magic are gone; I’ve given him what he wanted, yet he didn’t even have the stomach to watch.
“Casem, you stay. The rest of you, there’s no need to torture yourselves.” I crouch before Riley’s body, setting my hand upon the sheath of my steel dagger. “Unless you want to watch me drain the bodies and harvest their bones, take your leave. I’ll handle the rest of the prisoners alone.”
Relief floods from Lord Garrison in waves that knot my