tide, leaving her raw.
Ana collapsed. As though from a distance, she heard Morganya calling orders. Kill her, her aunt cried. She is a dangerous Affinite. She could have murdered us all.
Sadov crawled away from her, trailing blood and whimpering. All around them, guests were fleeing through the doors, and the remaining Councilmembers lingered in the safety of the farthest corners of the Throneroom.
A shadow fell upon Ana. The face was familiar; large eyes against pale skin and a bald forehead. Those eyes gazed into hers, as inscrutable as ever.
She felt a cold glass vial being tilted to her lips; sweet, honeylike liquid poured down her throat. This was not Deys’voshk. It was a different kind of poison. Ana struggled. The gray eyes became stern. Tetsyev clamped a hand on her nose. She had no strength left to resist.
Her mind was becoming muggy.
A numbing sensation was spreading from her stomach to her abdomen and into her limbs.
“It is done, Kolst Imperatorya.” Tetsyev’s voice was distant as he drew back. “The Blood Witch will die.”
The poison worked fast. It spread through her veins like ice, freezing her muscles.
Several steps from her, Luka lay on the dais, peaceful even in his death.
I love you, Luka, she thought. I’m sorry.
A figure approached. Morganya’s eyes brimmed with tears, and they spilled down her face as she knelt next to Ana. She put a hand to Ana’s cheek; her fingers were ice-cold to the touch. Slowly, Morganya lowered her lips to Ana’s face, pausing a breath away.
“You pitiful creature,” Morganya whispered, caressing her hair. “Tetsyev did the humane thing. He’s always been more softhearted than I, my talented alchemist. I would have saved you for Sadov’s dungeons.”
Ana wanted to reach up and claw Morganya’s eyes out. Her arms would not move.
Morganya’s breath warmed Ana’s neck. She was laughing softly. From a distance, anyone would think she was kneeling over Ana’s body, grieving.
“I might have taken you in,” Morganya murmured. “After all, we are purging the world of the monsters that oppressed us—that treated us like vermin.” She paused, and her voice became mockingly sad. “You look at me with such hatred. You think me the villain. But what you don’t understand is that sometimes we must commit terrible deeds for the greater good. My acts are sacrifices that I am willing to make to pave a better world, Little Tigress.”
Ana could only stare at her aunt, her mind trying to make sense of Morganya’s words. Only now did she realize that her aunt hadn’t done these things out of spite, or pure evil. In Morganya’s mind, she was making the right choice.
“You chose the wrong side,” Morganya continued. “And now you will pay for it by dying alone, dishonored and disgraced. The whole room watched you torture Vladimir; I am the heroine who saved them from a deimhov. And the dark legends of the Blood Witch of Salskoff will carry on.” She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Ana’s forehead. Her lovely face crumpled again as she lifted her head, tears glistening on her cheeks for the world to see. “Pyetr,” she said hoarsely, backing away to the dais. “Is she…? Could you…? I cannot bear to look at her.”
There was so much more Ana needed to do; so much more she should have done for her empire. But her strength was giving out. A strange sense of peace settled over her, as though her body were falling into slumber. Her head lolled to the side and she waited for the darkness to close in. If this was dying, it wasn’t so terrible.
A light breeze brushed Ana’s face as Tetsyev knelt by her side, his white robes fluttering. He put a finger to her neck to check her pulse. To her surprise, he, too, dipped his head in respect and mourning. The softest whisper came from his lips: “It’s a paralysis poison.” And then, straightening, Tetsyev turned to Morganya. “The Blood Witch is dead.”
Her mind was heavy, but surprise cut through it like a blade. A paralysis poison.
She wasn’t dying.
Could it be? That Tetsyev had saved her life? That everything Tetsyev had told her held true?
A shout sounded somewhere outside. Sharp, quick footsteps rang in the silence of the vast hall, growing closer and more frantic.
“No!” someone yelled. Ana knew that voice. It was familiar, in a way that made her want to reach out to its owner and touch him, even with just a hand on his shoulder, or be near enough to