The Blood Traitor (The Prison Healer, #3) — Chapter no 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Kiva’s dread was like a snake squeezing her chest as she watched her sister move slowly forward.

Zuleeka’s black hair was braided over one shoulder, her moon-pale skin almost luminous against her dark armor and the shadows swirling all around her. With every step, she ignored the soldiers and guards and anomalies who were like statues, many of them having weapons raised mid- strike. She didn’t even spare them a glance.

Not now, Kiva thought desperately, aware of how drained her power was. She’d been counting on Zuleeka remaining locked away, seeking to protect herself until the battle was over, just as Ashlyn had said. But here she was, her hawkish face tilted to the side, her honey-gold eyes shining even from a distance.

“I thought I saw your magic through my window,” Zuleeka called across the bridge. “Have you come to play, little sister?”

The snake around Kiva’s chest tightened as she realized Zuleeka had been drawn out by her own healing glow, the sight too tempting to resist.

There was madness in her eyes, but Kiva didn’t know if it was a result of the dark magic corrupting her blood, or if she’d finally realized that all the power in the world couldn’t keep her in command of a kingdom. Regardless of who won the battle that day, Evalon was no longer hers.

But seeing that madness, Kiva knew Zuleeka didn’t care. She wasn’t going to surrender.

And there was only one person who could stop her.

Summoning her magic, Kiva freed herself from the shadows holding her. It was effortless now, her training having paid off, even if it cost her in strength. But she ignored the lightheadedness and stood. She also ignored the way Jaren was looking at her, his eyes pleading with her to free him, to not do this alone.

But this was one battle he couldn’t protect her from, and she wouldn’t

risk Zuleeka using him against her.

Not this time.

“We don’t have to do this, Zuleeka,” Kiva said, walking slowly toward her sister. She knew the words would fall on deaf ears, but she was stalling, trying to give her magic a chance to replenish as much as it could. “Mother never wanted this for you. For either of us.”

Zuleeka bared her teeth. “You don’t know what she wanted.”

“I know more than you think,” Kiva said, passing a trio of Gray Guards, their eyes frightened. “For example, I know the reason she tried to free me from Zalindov was so I could save you.”

Scoffing, Zuleeka said, “I don’t need anyone to save me. Not when I can do this.”

With a wave of her hand, the two anomalies nearest to her were released, but new shadows speared toward them, causing them to clutch at their chests, gasping and choking, before they crumpled to the ground.

Dead.

Kiva tried not to react, but horror flooded her at her sister’s merciless attack. They hadn’t even been able to defend themselves. And Kiva — she could have stopped it. But she’d been too slow, hadn’t even thought of calling her own magic. It was a mistake she couldn’t afford to make again.

“Mother lost sight of our goals,” Zuleeka said, her eyes even more crazed now, as if every bit of magic she used darkened her soul further.

“She couldn’t appreciate the true power we possess — Torvin’s deadly power, now ours to command. Mine and yours, Kiva.” She leaned forward, her face feverish. “You don’t need to save me, little sister — not when you can join me.”

Once again, Kiva was careful not to react, even as everything within her recoiled.

“Let go of your weak healing magic and embrace the shadows,”

Zuleeka continued, her voice worshipful. She held out a hand, summoning a wisp of darkness and staring at it adoringly. “Together, we’ll be unstoppable — and we’ll take everything that belongs to us.”

Kiva tensed at the sight of the shadows, but steadied herself. Wait, urged a quiet voice in her mind.

“That’s the thing, Zulee,” Kiva said softly. “It doesn’t belong to us.” She looked toward the armies still battling on the grounds, with them having no idea that the bridge was facing an entirely different threat. “Those are your rebels down there, but they’re not fighting for you. That’s Tor leading them, having earned that right — having earned their respect. But even so, that

doesn’t mean he’s earned the kingdom. It’s not ours; it was never ours. And I think Mother realized that. She was willing to give it up if it meant keeping you from destroying yourself.” Whispering now, Kiva held out a hand and said, “Let me help you, Zulee. Just like Mother wanted.”

For a moment, Kiva thought she might have been getting through to her sister.

But then Zuleeka’s face darkened and she said, low and dangerous, “Mother never should have turned her back on our bloodline. She was a traitor — and so are you. If you won’t join me, then you can join her.”

With that, Zuleeka flung out her hand, her dark, deadly magic closing the distance between them. But Kiva was ready. Her heart ached as she thought about Caldon, how he’d made her practice over and over with his flames shooting toward her. He was the reason she was able to react fast enough now, sending her healing light forward to meet Zuleeka’s shadows, dissolving them in the air.

The look of stunned surprise on her sister’s face would have been satisfying at any other time.

“Looks like you’ve learned some new tricks,” Zuleeka hissed, her

honey-gold eyes flashing.

And then she attacked again.

Shadow after shadow speared toward Kiva, with her own power pouring out, keeping the death magic at bay — but only just. The assault was unending, causing sweat to drip down her brow, her hands to shake, her knees to weaken. But still, strike after strike, she continued to summon her light and hold her sister back.

Then, suddenly, Zuleeka loosed a frustrated roar and banished the darkness over the bridge, inviting the reawakened chaos. The soldiers and anomalies were disoriented for the briefest of moments before they launched back into their own attacks, with Cresta and Navok furiously renewing their duel. Kiva could see Jaren sprinting toward her, but he was waylaid by a group of Gray Guards, forced to engage or be skewered by their blades. And then she couldn’t watch him anymore, her sister’s shadows coming at her again, more viciously than ever before.

“Why — won’t — you — just — die!” Zuleeka grunted between attacks, moving closer with every strike. Soon she was within spitting distance, and that was when she did something Kiva didn’t expect — she touched a Royal Guard running past, her magic working too fast for Kiva to

keep the woman from death, after which Zuleeka snatched up her fallen sword and stabbed it forward.

Kiva jumped to the side and frantically scanned the ground for a weapon, but then Naari was there, leaping to intercept Zuleeka’s blade.

Zuleeka roared again and fought back with a vengeance. Seeing them pivot around each other made Kiva remember the feud between them — how years ago, Zuleeka had taken Naari’s hand, and just months ago, had forced her into a magical coma. Naari was out for blood now, but Zuleeka was a deadly opponent, her magic and her swordsmanship a lethal combination.

Kiva did everything she could to keep the shadows from touching Naari as she battled Zuleeka, remaining close enough to nullify her sister’s dark power all while dodging the magical and mundane attacks occurring around them. Her own power began to splutter, but she reached deep within herself, begging for more, despite knowing she couldn’t continue for much longer.

What they were doing wasn’t working. Even with Naari’s help, Zuleeka wasn’t weakening, and no one else was free to lend their strength against her. Jaren was still surrounded by guards, his magic fully depleted. Cresta was lost in her duel with Navok, her entire focus on her brother. Everyone else was out on the grounds, too far away to offer any aid. And Kiva’s magic . . . what remained was like a candle flickering in the wind.

Love. She needs to focus on love.

Caldon’s voice whispered across her mind, causing a sob to catch in her throat. She couldn’t think about him now, or how one of the last things he’d said was that he wouldn’t let her face Zuleeka alone: We’re in this together, Sunshine. You and me.

Only, he wasn’t there. And she was facing Zuleeka without him.

Kiva’s heart cracked all over again.

But she now also knew what she had to do.

Love. She needs to focus on love.

Despite her training, all the magic she had left was currently being fueled by desperation — but it needed more than that. For light to grow, it needed more light.

I want you to think of a memory, Jaren had told her, weeks earlier, a good one.

A memory filled with love, Caldon had added.

Even in the midst of the battle, that wasn’t difficult for Kiva — because

all she had to do was think of them.

Jaren and Caldon.

Tipp and Naari.

Cresta and Torell and Ashlyn.

All the people so dear to her, who had fought with her — and for her.

She thought of kissing Jaren on the mountaintop, of crying in Caldon’s arms. Of Tipp’s gap-toothed smile and Naari’s fierce protection. Of Cresta’s unexpected friendship, Torell’s unflinching loyalty, and Ashlyn’s unearned

kindness.

They were her hope.

They were her strength.

They were the reason she would not give up.

Could not give up.

And when Zuleeka finally managed to get a lucky swipe in, slashing her blade across Naari’s torso and sending her staggering to the ground, Kiva didn’t hesitate. One arm shot out toward the guard, golden light stitching the wound back together, while her other arm pointed straight at Zuleeka, all the love and hope and strength she was feeling coming out of her in a blaze as bright as the sun, striking her sister in the chest.

Zuleeka dropped her sword and went down onto a knee, a shriek leaving her as she scrambled to summon her shadows.

Dark and light.

Light and dark.

Zuleeka continued resisting, and fear tried to overwhelm Kiva, but she wouldn’t let it, thinking only of those she loved, of the strength that love gave her.

And then, suddenly, Zuleeka’s shadows were gone.

Kiva tipped forward from the unexpected lack of resistance, nearly losing her footing.

The bridge battle continued around them, but it was as if they were in their own bubble as they stared at each other, chests heaving with exertion, emerald eyes locked on honey-gold.

Kiva’s pulse was racing, the question of Is it over? flooding her mind.

She was aware of Naari trying to get up but not yet able to, of Jaren finally being free of opponents and sprinting her way. But her gaze remained only

on Zuleeka, who was still kneeling in defeat, looking up at her with

emotion-filled eyes.

Her shadows were gone.

Her death magic burned away.

Healed.

Kiva stood there, shaking, hardly daring to believe it, not even when Zuleeka opened her mouth, her voice a broken rasp of sound.

“Everything I did was for our family,” she whispered. “Everything I achieved — everything I wanted — was for us.”

Kiva swallowed. “It was never yours to want.”

Zuleeka didn’t hear her. Didn’t listen. Her tone changed, becoming as hard as steel as she hissed, “You tried to take that from me. So now I’ll take everything you want.”

A loud, pained cry made Kiva’s head whip to the side just in time to see Navok’s stunned face as Cresta pulled her blade from his chest, his hands clutching at the mortal wound before he stumbled backwards — right over

the railing and into the river below.

Cresta had done it.

She had defeated Navok.

She was queen of Mirraven.

That meant she could call off the battle — immediately.

But then Kiva realized her own fatal mistake, and turned quickly back to Zuleeka, seeing what the distraction had cost her.

Because in her sister’s hands was a familiar dagger, something Kiva had forgotten about with all the dangers surrounding them, despite it being the one weapon they all should have taken care to remember.

The Eye of the Gods.

With a wicked, lethal grin on her face, Zuleeka threw the blade into the

air.

But it wasn’t aimed at Kiva.

Now I’ll take everything you want.

Zuleeka’s words echoed in Kiva’s ears as she saw the trajectory of the blade, knowing she had a fraction of a second to make a decision.

She didn’t hesitate.

Because the Eye was aimed at Jaren. The one weapon that could take away his magic — again — and this time, there would be no hope of

getting it back. He wouldn’t just lose his powers, he would lose his right to rule. And that was something Kiva couldn’t accept, couldn’t allow.

So she dived in the path of the blade.

Pain — burning, blinding pain lanced through her as she landed hard on the bridge, but it wasn’t just the agony of the dagger lodging deep into her stomach; it was the ice cold feeling of her magic screaming in her veins.

She could feel the Eye sucking it up — could feel it leaving her, being stolen from her.

And then it was gone. From one moment to the next, like it had never been.

A sob left Kiva, but she didn’t have a chance to mourn what she’d just lost, nor to be concerned about the numbness spreading outward from her wound. Instead, it was fear she felt — because Jaren should have reached her by now. Naari should have scrambled over. Even Cresta should have come running.

But Kiva was alone, the bridge quiet and still — And covered in shadows.

No, she gasped inwardly as Zuleeka approached, a triumphant, crazed smile on her lips.

She’d never been defeated; her death magic was as strong as ever.

Another sob left Kiva, this time not just from pain and loss, but also

devastation.

Because she had failed.

And now, she didn’t have anything left to give, her healing power gone forever.

Zuleeka stopped when she reached Kiva and crouched down beside her, trailing a gentle, mocking finger down her face.

Kiva couldn’t move away, her body too weak, her pain too great. It took everything within her just to clutch at her stomach, trying to staunch her own blood.

“That was silly of you,” Zuleeka cooed. “Believe what you want, little sister, but I am sorry it’s come to this. If only you’d joined me, none of this would have happened.”

Kiva coughed, and blood bubbled out of her mouth, dribbling down her

chin.

She knew what that meant.

Knew she didn’t have long.

. . . And knew what she had to do.

Turning her neck was all she could manage, but it was enough for Kiva to lock eyes with Jaren, seeing him frozen only a few feet away, Zuleeka’s magic stopping him mid-sprint. His gaze was terrified, his face as white as a sheet, standing out in stark contrast to the fresh pink of his healed chest.

She tried to speak to him silently, telling him how much she loved him, that he was worth what she’d just done, how sorry she was for what was about to happen. But then her sister continued speaking, and Kiva painstakingly looked back at her.

“Don’t worry,” Zuleeka said, her eyes amused as they flicked toward Jaren. “I won’t make him suffer. Consider it my very last gift to you — a quick death for your beloved.” She leaned down then, pressing her lips to Kiva’s forehead, before whispering in her ear, “Goodbye, sister.”

That was when Kiva spoke, managing to rasp only two words.

“Goodbye, Zuleeka.”

And before her sister could realize what she was doing, Kiva used the last of her strength to rip the dagger from her own stomach, the sudden pain of it worse than before, worse than anything she’d ever experienced, but she made herself slash upward, even as Zuleeka’s eyes widened and she lurched away.

She was too slow, the blade swiping across her cheek.

It was a shallow wound, barely a scratch.

But it was enough.

An almighty scream roared from Zuleeka as she slapped her hand to her face, the shadows on the bridge instantly receding into her, like spilled ink being sucked back into its pot. Within the space of seconds, her power vanished without a trace, everyone it had held captive free again — and forever.

The next instant, Zuleeka was being tackled to the side by Naari, but she didn’t fight this time, her body limp and unresisting.

It was over.

It was done.

And then, suddenly, Jaren was there.

“Kiva, sweetheart, look at me,” he begged, cupping her face, his hands shaking. “Stay with me. Don’t close your eyes.”

He shouted then. Not at her — he shouted for help.

More hands were on her, Cresta’s hands, pressing hard against her abdomen. She was yelling something, yelling at Kiva, but Kiva couldn’t understand, her thoughts thick and sluggish. She knew she should feel pain, should have been in agony. But there was nothing.

Just blood.

Lots and lots of blood.

It was all Kiva could see.

Until her eyes closed.

And then — Darkness.