Mercurial Naomi Hughes (suggested reading txt) 📖

like violence is never a good answer, or some proverb or scripture that would gently but firmly condemn Nyx’s plan. Except it wasn’t really even Nyx’s plan, was it? It was Saasha’s. Nyx had left her mother last night not long after their conversation, certain of what she had to do to save her brother, but now that the moment was at hand she found that certainty draining away. Saasha had said that killing the Destroyer was the only way to save Tal but now it seemed that the Destroyer herself might want to save Tal.

And then the Destroyer raised her chin and took a breath, ready to end her line of argument. “Tal is a seer, but I believe he is one who can be leashed for the good of the empire.”

And just like that, Nyx’s certainty flooded back in, surging on a tide of fury. So this was why she had wanted to save Tal. Not because she cared for him, but because she wanted to use him. Tal had served her at the cost of his soul for two years and now she wanted to corrupt his magic as well. Even if the Destroyer forced Albinus to heal his rust phage, it would only be for the purposes of wielding him like a weapon against those who opposed her. The fact that he was no longer truly under oath to her didn’t matter; she had plenty of ways to enforce her will against him.

Nyx waited for the Destroyer to glance away, at Albinus, before she raised the crossbow.

Tal’s breathing had accelerated. The arguments had reached their end. Elodie was about to pronounce his sentence. Even if it was to be a favorable one, even if she managed to find some way to pardon him without giving up her power or weakening her reign, this could still only end one way.

His god had shown him what had to happen for his promise to be fulfilled. He had asked one last thing of Tal. And Tal had said yes. He would not go back on his word now, no matter how frightened he was.

Something burgeoned around him, an invisible sense of weight, a presence. His god steadied him. It will be well, whispered a voice that wasn’t a voice somewhere deep within.

The Destroyer returned to the empress’s elevated iron throne. She sat down, prepared to render her ultimate judgment.

Tal scanned the audience one last time—and spotted the assassin.

Shaved head. Fierce brown eyes and sharp cheekbones and a face he would recognize anywhere: Nyx. She held a miniature crossbow whose bolt dripped with purple.

No. No. Not Nyx. If it was her who killed him, she would never forgive herself. She could never be happy. She would never be able to forget this moment, this choice, her finger on the trigger and her arrow lodging in her own brother’s back.

But neither could he let the arrow strike Elodie.

He shifted his weight, desperate to catch her attention. Her gaze moved from the Destroyer to him. Their eyes locked.

Nyx’s finger froze on the crossbow’s trigger. Tal’s eyes held her. He shook his head minutely, his jaw tight, his gaze pleading. He didn’t want her to do it. Because he didn’t want the Destroyer’s death, or because he knew that Nyx herself would be killed afterwards?

She hesitated again. She looked at Albinus. His mouth was a straight line, his expression surly. The Destroyer, in contrast, looked triumphant. The white flames that had wreathed her had died down to sparks. She seemed…relieved.

Nyx’s gaze returned to Tal’s. Her hesitation stretched out into the space between heartbeats, filling her up and displacing her certainty once again.

She couldn’t do it. She wasn’t sure enough that it was the right thing.

The thought brought with it a heady rush of her own relief. She would trust Tal, and not her mother, who longed for a vengeance that would end the life of her own daughter. Nyx would trust the exasperating and beloved voice of her girlfriend, who was apparently able to wedge herself into Nyx’s thoughts even though she must be miles away in reality.

With a shaky exhalation, Nyx began to lower the crossbow.

“I pronounce the sentence of…” the Destroyer began, and then Nyx’s neighbor shifted in his seat and jostled her arm.

Nyx’s finger jerked on the trigger. The crossbow fired.

Tal saw his sister make her decision. He saw her lower her weapon. A stunned sense of impossibility swept over him then—his sister trusted him, even over her own hatred. She would not go through with the assassination. He started to smile at her.

And then his gaze fell to the man next to her. He was wearing peasant clothing, but his bearing was much straighter and his gaze sharper than most of the audience. He looked like an off-duty guard or perhaps a mercenary. Tal followed his line of sight.

He was looking at Albinus. And Albinus was looking at him.

Tal inhaled sharply, his instincts screaming a warning, but before he could say anything the man reacted to some signal from the Lord of Copper and elbowed Nyx.

Her finger hit the trigger. The bolt flew from the crossbow.

And here it came: Tal’s decision.

The weight of his god lifted, hovered. Warmth enveloped him. The choice, even now, was his to make.

He made it.

THE DESTROYER BURNED WITH A FERAL SATISFACTION as she began to pronounce her judgment. She was certain that she had guided the trial well, that her subjects were likely to see Tal’s potential as an ally now and not think him to be her weakness. The rust phage was still an obstacle, of course, but she was the Mercurial Empress. She would find a way to cure him. She could offer a coffer of gold to whoever could fix Tal, or maybe just hurt Albinus until he did the trick. Surely the royal physician—the man who had infused a misfire with mercury magic—had