Of Kings and Killers (Elder Empire Sea #3) - WIll Wight Page 0,36

even greater threat than Estyr. “It’s no problem, Bliss. We’re friends, aren’t we? I’m here for whatever you need.”

Alsa furiously shook her head, slashing a finger across her throat. That had been the wrong thing to say.

But Bliss relaxed, breathing more deeply against him.

“Thank you. I’m glad I can be honest with you. Now, will you please let me make everyone quiet?”

Calder forced himself to keep breathing. She’d notice if his breath hitched. “Why do you want to do that?”

“It’s so loud out there,” she whimpered. She touched an ear. “Not just in here, but in here.” The finger moved from her ear to the side of her head, where she twisted it as though trying to drill a hole in her own skull.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. It will settle down soon.”

“I wanted to make everyone be silent, but Alsa Grayweather said that these were citizens of the Imperial Palace, and we’d named you Steward. So they belonged to you. That was true, I agreed to it, and I don’t want to break anything that’s yours. But now you’re here, and you can let me!”

She looked up at him with hopeful eyes. She was certainly older than him, but she looked like a child begging her parent for help.

He selected every word with the care of an alchemist mixing components. “Bliss…I’ve been doing my best to make everything silent for you. I’m going to go back out there and see if I can get them to quiet down. Can you let me try first?”

Her brow furrowed, but she straightened up and nodded once, sharply. Then she reached out and smoothed the creases she made in his shirt. “I am sorry about this, I’m simply…out of sorts. Because of the noise.”

He didn’t know if the clash of powerful Intent had roused her Soulbound Vessel, but he wondered if this might be the true attack they’d feared from the Elders all along. “Nothing to apologize for, Bliss. We’re—”

A thundering crash shook the world outside.

Calder dashed downstairs, his mother following him. He glanced back once to see if Bliss had joined them, but when he turned back, he found her already peeking out of the front door.

The other Watchmen backed carefully away from her, but Calder deliberately stepped up, looking over her head and through the cracked door.

Teach and Kern had been smashed down into the street, the paving-stones ruptured where they had landed. An invisible force pinned Teach flat to the ground, Tyrfang just out of her reach, but Kern snarled and pushed against it. The red light in his armor flared, and his knees trembled as he fought.

Against the might of Estyr Six.

The Regent lifted into the air, staring down at them all with the icy glare of an Empress. Her skin was covered by dust and blood, but the combination made her expression into a regal mask. Her coat had been shredded, and now it blew in the wind like the ends of her hair.

The three reptilian skulls floated around her head.

Kern hadn’t managed to finish her off in time.

“Citizens, lay down your weapons!” Estyr’s voice echoed between the buildings, majestic and resonant. “This battle is over.”

And so it was.

Calder let the weight of failure settle onto him. He’d lost. He had made too many stupid mistakes, rushed too much, played the odds too many times. No one could stand against Estyr Six. It was the end.

Estyr called out once more. “Calder Marten. Come out.”

Bliss turned to look at him, real concern in her eyes. He patted her shoulder as he pushed past her and walked into the street.

His shirt had been newly white this morning, and now it was stained with soot and the blood of others. An odd detail to focus on, but it seemed to represent the day.

He walked out to stand under Estyr, looking up at her. A stream of dust fell from her body, trickling down in front of him.

Now it would be up to her to fix the world.

He would get no chance to try and preserve the Empire, to create a world governed by mortals. He wouldn’t get to fix or use the Optasia, or to settle things with Jerri. Someone else would have to do those things now.

A stubborn spark of anger flared to life within him.

No, not someone else. He’d fought to get here. He’d earned the right.

And unlike what Ach’magut had promised, no one had yet addressed him as the Emperor of the World.

But they would.

He opened himself to

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