Where was everyone?
At least I knew that Endrick was still nearby. Joth had ordered the half-lives to watch the palace since we h
ad arrived in Highwyn. If Endrick had attempted to leave, we would have known. Nor did I expect any escape. He had defeated me once and would believe he could do so again. His pride would not allow him to fear me.
But he would, very soon.
With no choice other than to search room by room, I began opening doors, beginning with the servants’ quarters. At the first open door, my earlier questions were answered. The half-lives must have come through the rooms already, for I saw the scattered bodies of servants lying on the floors, having fallen while mid-action.
I crouched down to feel a faint pulse of a woman who must have been sweeping when the half-lives found her. Her broom had lodged against the wall, and her body had folded over the handle, placing her in a most uncomfortable position. I lowered the broom to allow her to lie flat on the ground, then realized I had inadvertently drawn strength from her.
Something deep within me suggested I could take all I wanted, and I should. This room had a dozen servants in it, all of them alive enough to be of use to me.
Take their strength. You’ll be stronger. The suggestion in my head was louder than my own thoughts. Or perhaps those thoughts had been mine, and some part of me wanted to finish the job the half-lives had begun.
Recoiling at the possibility, I hurried onward but hadn’t even reached the next room before the thoughts returned, louder and angrier. This time they scolded me for not having drawn strength while I could. I had to kill Endrick, didn’t I? And these servants worked for him, making them legitimate targets.
“I won’t do that,” I whispered, and with those words, my breath locked in my throat. I grabbed my neck, as if that would allow me to breathe again, but nothing released until I was close to passing out.
Desperate for air, I fell to my knees, directly in front of a guard the half-lives had visited.
Take him.
For the first time, I realized how the corruption worked. If I would not use magic to feed the poison, it would feed off me, and it was doing so now, forcing me to use my magic.
I had believed that I was in control of the corruption, but now I understood the very opposite was true—the corruption was stronger than me, and only a fraction of how strong Lord Endrick would be.
I felt the pulse of this guard. Despite his unconscious state, it was strong and regular, so he would recover. And when I looked at his face, I immediately recognized him from my time in the dungeons. He had threatened me and might have carried through on those threats if Simon had not been there. Later, he had nearly beaten Simon to death.
The longer I stared at him, the more I was convinced that it was the right thing to take strength from this man. I needed it, and he had only used his strength for cruelty.
I took from him, without guilt or shame. I left him enough that he would eventually recover, but what I took made me far stronger than before. Perhaps I needed that, for I left that room with even greater confidence that when I found Endrick, I would be ready for anything he might do.
I took strength again in the kitchen, growing in power, absorbing the cold from every corner of the room. I exhaled and saw the frost in my breath, and it warmed me to see it. I redoubled my grip on the Olden Blade, anxious to use it, eager to be finished with my quest.
Wanting to kill Endrick.
I no longer dreaded it, no longer cowered at the thought of my blade piercing his gut, spilling his blood.
He was evil. He had murdered thousands of Antorans for his power, including my own mother, and many other people I had cared about once. And he would continue to do so for as long as he reigned.
I moved faster through the rooms, my hunger to find Endrick growing stronger with each step. When I did, I would make him pay for his crimes.
At last, I had searched every room on the main floor of the palace. There was only one place left, the throne room. It was the worst possible location for him to defend himself; hence why it was the last place I’d looked for him. At best, he was a fool to be in there.
Which made me nervous. Endrick was no fool. He was in that room for a reason.
In the daytime, the room was brightly lit thanks to the large panel of windows along one entire wall. But this late at night, those windows only made this room seem darker than it otherwise might have been, and I suspected Lord Endrick preferred things that way.
My eyes immediately flew to the center of the throne room. A tall dais was there, surrounded on all sides by six steps. At the top of it, Endrick sat upon the Scarlet Throne.
Soon, it would be my throne.
He had seen me too, for he leaned forward, resting both elbows on his knees. Despite the darkness, I was certain he was smiling.
A smile from Lord Endrick was far more terrifying than a frown, for it deepened the many lines and scars in his face, each one created by someone he had killed on his road to power. To hide his visage, he usually wore a mask in public, but today, it was only him. And although he obviously knew I was coming, he had not bothered to protect himself with armor. I considered that an insult.
And a great worry, for he should have been at least a little concerned. His apparent eagerness to see me set my mind off balance.