❛power isn't everything. it's the only thing.❜
[complete]
wattys 2018 winner ❧
Lin is a hunter, one of the magically enhanced witch slayers that roam a flooded world. Under the laws of four Kings and Greymark, who rules them all, Lin is unto...
"Tell the king; the fair wrought house has fallen. No shelter has Apollo, nor sacred laurel leaves. The fountains are now silent; the voice is stilled. It is finished."
―The last Oracle of Delphi
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Lin's ears still rang from the crash of buildings, her skin still burned from the deadwater. Through it all, she couldn't mistake the silence blanketing the Manor's halls. Razo must have noticed, too, because he shifted uncomfortably as he flanked her.
Their footsteps were the only sound echoing down the vast tile hall. Not even the fountains ran.
"Hide somewhere," Lin whispered. "I'll take care of Grey."
Razo split off wordlessly. He probably knew these winding corridors better than she did. Lin kept going, her fingers finding the clasp on her empty holster.
The massive doors at the end of the hall, carved with the same soulless images as always, stood ajar. She slid through the gap into an empty room. The lingering scent of blood floated in the air. Whispers floated after that.
She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but they stopped as soon as she was close enough to see the light spilling from Greymark's office.
So much for stealth. Lin squared her shoulders and strolled in.
Greymark sat behind his desk, idly chewing the arm of his glasses.
Pierce looked over his shoulder as Lin leaned against the hidden door's frame. His hair looked a bit greyer than before, but that was impossible. The hunter glanced between Lin and Greymark. His lips pursed.
"Get out, Pierce," Greymark said. To Lin's surprise, his voice was hoarse, like he'd been sick or something. Also impossible. When Greymark's old eyes settled on Lin's, she froze. She barely noticed Pierce easing past her.
Greymark tossed his glasses to the desk, not looking away from Lin. He leaned back.
His eyes were bloodshot. Not inhumanly so, just frighteningly human. He looked dulled.
"Mara's dead," Lin said, for lack of anything else to say. "But something -- "
"I know." Greymark ran his hands through his hopelessly disheveled hair. "A new Witchking. I felt it. God, I always feel it."
Lin swallowed and stepped forward, squinting at Greymark's face. If she didn't know better, she'd say he was devastated. That he was broken. But that didn't make sense because those were hers now. She was the one who got to rage and break because of him. She'd lost Hadrian because of him.
