Just because you want someone to love you, it doesn’t mean they will.
“Get it over with,” Lucan snapped, though his tone wasn’t as commanding as it had been, even a short time ago.
“You’re in no position to make demands,” Chantisse said in the iciest tone Slay had heard from the resistance leader.
In three strides, Ro slid out of her flying angel-demon form and settled in front of Lucan, not nudging Chantisse or Slay aside, but he stepped off anyway. Rowena had a more personal stake in this issue. Chantisse gave Ro a long look, then nodded and gave her some room, tacit permission for Ro to handle Lucan however she saw fit. The rest of the resistance forces fell quiet, exhausted and bloodied, but certainly not broken.
Rowena grabbed Lucan’s chin in a punishing grip, twisting his neck so he had no choice but to face her. Face what he’d done. “You have two choices. We may be able to extract some useful information from you, and if you offer it freely, I’ll make your end quick in honor of the boy you used to be. If you refuse to cooperate, the agony of your death will be told for five generations. Your fate will become a cautionary tale to potential traitors everywhere.”
Lucan let out a breath, visibly trying to steady his fraying nerves. With great effort, Slay resisted the desire to knock the soul out of his body. If he makes a move, I snap his neck. His entire body burned with wrath over how this asshole had taken such pleasure in taunting Ro, threatening her with Tycho Vega, who had hurt her more than the worst sinner should suffer.
Vega is next.
Then Lucan tore his face from Ro’s grasp, practically snarling with defiance. “Do you think this is over? The moment His Magnificence crushes his brother’s paltry forces, your mob will be utterly demolished.”
“Paltry?” Rowena laughed. “The numbers who are marching against Golgerra were impressive even before I was taken. Didn’t you hear that the bulk of the tyrant’s army pledged to his brother on the strength of his charisma and integrity? I suppose you’d have a hard time believing that, however, since you pledged to our greatest enemy for your own gain.”
“I did what I had to,” Lucan snapped.
He spat at Rowena and Slay backhanded him. It was a reflex; he couldn’t have stopped it. The asshole tumbled sideways, his skull slamming into the ground. Other resistance warriors hauled him upright, ignoring the blood trickling from his head. Hettie snarled a curse, and someone held her back, Kani and Nolen, maybe.
Then Chantisse spoke, her tone low and grave. “No, you did what you wanted to. You didn’t care about the rest of us, only about getting out. You chose to work within a corrupt system for your own selfish gains.”
A chorus of assents roared from the crowd. If Slay could read a room, the resistance was a couple of minutes from pulling Lucan limb from limb. Not that he cared. Sometimes violence was the answer. Chantisse had been dead right when she’d said, when freedom is not given, it must be taken. Lucan might not be the worst of Tycho’s commanders in terms of damage done, but to Slay’s mind, he was especially wretched because he’d risen from the undercity and turned on those who cared about him.
Ro made a point of stepping away from the glob of bloody spittle that Lucan had aimed in her direction. Her expression was calm and regal when she said, almost conversationally, “Maksim, did you bring the poison?”
The head cook joined the group, seeming to have some idea where she was going with the question because he wore a truly diabolical grin. Slay didn’t, but he was ready to enjoy the show. Lucan glanced between Maksim and Ro with a furrowed brow.
“I did,” the man answered. “Would’ve been a waste otherwise, as we had plenty left from when we laced the guards’ food.”
“It’s quick, isn’t it? With a strong dose.”
“That it is,” Maksim agreed.
Ro moved closer to Lucan, lowering her voice to false intimacy. “But it doesn’t have to be fast. If we steep a mushroom tea and inject you with it, the pain will be excruciating.”
Maksim nodded, his face wreathed in a smile that belied the gruesome discussion. “Screaming purplecap sickness is dreadful if it’s drawn out. The poison lingers in the soft tissues and denies the body necessary nutrition. Mushrooms are consumers, you know, and in some cases, fungal spores grow in the blood, slowly destroying you from the inside out.
“First, you’d notice lethargy and nausea. Your skin will become jaundiced, and you’ll develop diarrhea but by that point, you’ll be too weak to use hygiene facilities on your own. At the end, you’ll plead for death as you vomit blood as your organs shut down.”
“No!” Genuine terror colored Lucan’s voice, and he lost all his remaining bravado. “Not that. I’ll tell you what I know.”
Under expert questioning split between Chantisse and Rowena, the commander spilled the truth about Tycho’s remaining troops: their numbers, where they were last positioned, every single detail. Lucan couldn’t get his breath to talk fast enough and Slay smirked over how fucking easy it had been to break him.
At last, Ro glanced at Slay, raising a pale brow in inquiry “I believe he’s given us everything. You want to do the honors?”
Vicious satisfaction rolled through him. “Thought you’d never ask.”
With great relish, Slay broke that bastard’s neck, a quick death, as promised.
20.
As the resistance pushed into Golgerra, timid citizens left supplies—food and clothing—outside their homes, then scurried back inside and barred the doors.
Ro suspected the noncombatants were trying to avoid being penalized for not taking part in the conflict, but the provisions helped nonetheless. They paused in the deserted marketplace and washed from the spigot the vendors used. The wonder on Kani’s face both moved and infuriated Rowena. There was so much that those who’d always lived below couldn’t even imagine, conveniences and marvels that they should’ve had access to all along.
Rinsing off the blood of their enemies and getting dressed in clothing left in tribute made everything feel more…real somehow. They weren’t a desperate band of refugees, but people who would carve out space for themselves in this world. Ro straightened her shoulders and stood a little taller, noticing that same pride in the posture of all the resistance soldiers. Kani and Nolen handled the garments they’d been given with reverence, as the fabric was much better quality than anything they’d received in the undercity. Down there, people only encountered the loose tunic and trousers made for prisoners or guard uniforms. Well, except for the clothing they sewed in the workshops but were never allowed to wear.
“Stay focused!” Chantisse called. “There will be time to explore once we’ve deposed the tyrant. Until then, rest and eat. We’ve come so far. Don’t lose sight of our objective now.”
That was addressed to a few soldiers ranging toward the stairs that led to the residential tiers. It wouldn’t do for their force to be split and picked off by Elite ambushes. Chastened, the troops rushed back and everyone settled for a makeshift meal. Slay sat beside Rowena, quiet but watchful. She didn’t entirely trust Lucan’s intel, even if he had seemed terrified of being injected with poisonous mushroom tea.