Constantine (Daughter of War #1)

Chapter 55: Heart of a Lion (Part 1)

Music is Hunted from the Beyond: Two Souls OST. Play it!

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Her silent screams seem to form a rift in the atmosphere.

I grit my teeth, ignoring the wicked pounding inside my head. My muscles jerk, trying to pull my action back. Too late now. The blade has already found its mark. So I twist the hilt, pushing it deeper into flesh.

The skin starts to disintegrate around the wound. Allura continues her inaudible screaming. Gilbert isn't doing anything. Good. I was afraid that he would interfere, even after I'd told him my suspicions, even when the truth is being unveiled.

Slowly but surely, the skin starts to peel away. Like flakes of dissolving snow, it just melts. My victim is too absorbed in the sheer torture racking throughout his body to react and fight back. I feel Gilbert tensing up; the temperature in the room plummets. He's getting ready for the upcoming brawl.

The skin finally disappears altogether.

The body underneath is a half-rotted corpse. Decaying skin stretches too tightly over his face; balding patches crust his skull. I rip the Miraterciel out of his neck, letting him collapse to the ground. He hunches over, wheezing in pain. I should feel sympathy for causing so much agony. Yet I find myself actually delighting in his suffering, almost as though I've already taken revenge for all the heartache he's given me.

Diomedes.

I was right. I don't know if I should feel relieved or heartbroken. My suspicions had started to form while I was discussing the plans with Gilbert and Allura after the war council. It had been an odd plucking at the back of my mind then, a sense of uneasiness whose source I couldn't pinpoint. That night, I'd lay in my bed, just thinking about everything: Galennus Asa, the medicine he'd given me, Sir Kendrick's possession...And I connected the pieces together. Perhaps it was the cold clarity the night had brought upon me, perhaps it was the absence of emotions altogether that had enabled me to see the truth. Anyhow, I'd realised that behind all of this, there was always someone quietly working in the background. Barely noticeable, but there.

Allura.

She was always there. She was always strangely absent whenever Diomedes appeared, or when he'd summoned one of his ghosts to attack us. Her 'curse' always reacted so accordingly after Diomedes had left. She was there with Sir Kendrick, when she'd first proposed that I should be Marked as soon as possible.

She was there, five years ago, in that unnamed village. She had died, but had been resurrected. And had somehow coaxed Galennus Asa to take her to Cordair.

She is a skin.

She is the skin. However, actually seeing my theory being proven right is another matter altogether. I feel bile rising up my throat; the back of my eyes burn with despair. Lies. Diomedes had fed me lies.

And I had believed every single one of them.

"How did you—" The treacherous snake clambers onto his feet, snarling viciously at us. He's still wearing the dress we'd borrowed from Isolde's handmaiden; I don't think she'll want it back anytime soon. Gilbert and I hold our ground. Hopefully I don't look as pale as I feel. Gilbert's hand latches onto my elbow. I can't tell if I'm supporting him or if he's supporting me. It goes both ways, I expect.

I watch my mortal enemy in front of me, too numb to do anything. The pain is still convulsing through Diomedes' body—I can see it through the faint trembling of his limbs. He's recovering fast though. One stab from Miraterciel won't do the trick.