Queen's Shadow || Kingdom at the End of the World - Book II

[18.2] Sun Rise

Orlova was badly burnt. Her body was covered in soot, the clothing along her back tattered to rags. The exposed skin was black and peeling. Ira saw the white flash of bone among torn flesh. The woman was not healing well, if at all.

“Can you stand?” Ira asked quietly.

Valeri shook his head. “Leave me. Hurry.”

Ira did not delay. Valeri would be safe with Zenith, and Orlova was in too volatile a mood to ignore. The woman managed to get her hands around Lord Fane’s throat in the few seconds it took for Ira to cover the distance between them. Blood poured down Lord Fane’s neck where Orlova’s nails dug in. Ira did not dare move too close, so as not to incite the woman into doing worse damage.

“Miss Orlova,” Ira bid, attempting to draw the woman’s attention away from Lord Fane.

“Do not worry, Miss Hale. I will not kill him,” Orlova said through a mad grin. Her eyes were reddened, and never wavered from Lord Fane’s pale face.

“You should,” Lord Fane rasped out.

Orlova laughed. The sound came out in gurgles, far from happy. “You learned your worth, at last! Too late to do any good,” the woman spat.

Orlova’s face twisted between anger and grief. The woman cast no shadow, Ira noted. She was whole at last, in a failing body.

“Is there anything,” Lord Fane began, voice pleading.

“Nothing,” Orlova snapped. Her face changed again, and her voice gentled. “It has been coming for a long time.”

Orlova’s body was not simply wounded, Ira realized – it was rotting, and reminded Ira of the lugat she had slain but weeks prior the more she looked. Orlova’s transition from human to vampire had never been successful. The deterioration was kept at bay somehow, likely due to the existence of her human half; nonetheless, Orlova’s ending was foretold.

Lord Fane moved at last. Instead of freeing himself from Orlova’s grip, he pressed into the woman’s hands and proceeded to scold and lecture. Orlova should have listened to him, Lord Fane said. It was not too late yet. As long as she listened –

It made for a ridiculous sight. Had the situation been less dire, Ira might have found amusement in seeing such a strange dynamic play out. As it were, Lord Fane’s inane ramblings inspired pity and little else.

Orlova watched the man without speaking. She removed her hands from Lord Fane’s neck, took a step back.

“I am leaving,” she said. Her voice carried a stringent echo.

Lord Fane attempted to rise to his feet. Orlova crushed the hand he used to support himself under her heel, breaking fine bones. Lord Fane swayed back down with a pained shout.

“Where will you go?” Ira questioned.

She could not let the woman leave, not in this state. Orlova posed a danger to all around her.

Orlova slanted a thin smile Ira’s way. “Do not fret, Miss Hale. I do not plan to go far.”

The field fed into a forest on one side. The other opened to a steep cliff, at the base of which rushed a river swollen from recent rains. Ira watched Orlova make her way to the top of the cliff, gait staggered. She sat at the highest point.

Ira turned away.

“What does she mean to do?” Valeri asked.

Ira helped the man sit up. His wounds were nearly gone, but he still moved stiffly.

“She will watch the sunrise,” Ira answered.

Valeri stilled. He looked at Ira, then at the cliff, where Orlova still sat. She was no longer alone.