Claimed by Callista

Chapter ✺ 25

Nothing quite like that.

Like...

I can't –

I can't deal with this. I don't think I can.

Callista's cold corpse is laid out, he is completely dead. My mother is at my shoulder but she melts away.

My wrists are tied behind my back and none of Macie's complaints can be heard as she's ushered away into Orsunr's tent to keep the hostage quiet.

Callista is covered in paint from the tribeswomen of Sovrex. The marks look like a ritual to me. A ritual where you need to kill the barren Morgan. That's just a dark thought. Or maybe it's the right thought.

Staring down at Callista is traumatising. The big strong warrior, reduced to lifelessness. My body no longer aches with the new Inck all over me, when my heart hurts like it does now. I didn't even know just how much I loved my Magus, until I see he isn't here anymore.

Orsunr stands to Callista's north, Vondamax of the Viper Clan came back with us and stands at his west side, Offu's replacement, a rare female Shaman called Sorda of Riverblood, stands at the east. I am on the south, at Callista's left, with Orsunr holding the sacrificial knife.

Even in his silence I knew he wanted to be the one to follow through on the order, unable to give it to another, when he owed me that much. May as well send me on my way, probably wants to make it as painless and quick as possible.

I had been held in a hut all day until this end was near.

My mother is pulled back from me, she kissed the back of my head, tried to hold onto me, but was pulled away.

I had no strength in me to turn and say goodbye.

Despite my acceptance that this was happening, some strange part of me refused to die. Maybe the stubborn warrior within, or the Wolf spirit I took, or maybe just my father's grandiosity inherited in my sick mind. A mind where I thought I could face any challenge and be formidable, never mind the obstacles.

I had faced Callista, Orsunr, Nyaor – won each.

But how do you fight dying, and a broken heart at the same time?

Two things happen.

Out of the darkness, Nyaor approaches Osunr, grabbing his arm and holding it out, watching me and murmuring to the both of us.

"I set the Sun," Nyaor pisses off Orsunr with those words, but when Orsunr tenses and tries to pull away, Nyaor somehow tricks the weapon out of his hand, into his own.

Sovrex seems to welcome the outcasted cannibal and ex-Magus back into the camp. Probably just hoping the ritual works since Nyaor is charged with Death magic.

As Nyaor comes around me, I finally find my fight. It had been simmering, buried deep inside, but now it comes to the surface. I struggle to pull the rope from my arms behind my back, but Nyaor just holds the knot and stills me, his heat pressed at my back.

"Death has it's Eye on you," Nyaor doesn't sound terribly sad about my sacrifice, which strangely gives me a sense of hope, "Sit up," he cuts my bonds and my arms are freed. The limp one hangs, while he spins me and helps to sit me up next to Callista's body. Nyaor looks like he knows what he's doing, "You'll have three to six minutes, then I can't bring you back," he gives me one little instruction at a time, "Look it in the eye when you see it. And don't look away... now give me your arm," I hold out my left arm. Nyaor gives me the knife, he doesn't cut me with it. I look at it in confusion as I grasp the handle. I see his black eyes and the Anaconda stares back, wise and reborn – able to shed its scales. I don't know why I think that. Nyaor doesn't say anything else. His hand touches my chest and a shuddering cold hits me.