He'd been in plenty of situations like this, Theo thought grimly as two zombies pushed him onto his knees in front of General Grave. And each time, he and his friends had made it out alive.
But right now, he couldn't begin to see an escape. Everyone was battered and exhausted; some had even passed out. Including Fia, whose limp body the guards held upright anyway. Ryan stared at them with a helpless fury that made Theo's heart ache.
Though the crew had fought their hardest, they couldn't make any headway against an enemy that refused to stay down. Even when their bones were shattered to bits, the broken parts simply joined together like an awkward jigsaw puzzle and the zombies resumed attacking, no worse for the wear.
Demon soldiers had joined the zombies as well, marching out of the invisible skycraft Grave had arrived in. Under any other circumstances, Theo might have wondered about it, but now he could only focus on the bitter regret weighing down his heart.
The regret deepened when he heard Victor's shuddering breaths somewhere to his left. Nearby, Mirage kept struggling against his guards in a futile attempt to reach Victor's side.
Theo had to help. Not just them, but everyone. He still had a decent amount of Levia; though he'd cast a lot of spells in the battle, he hadn't needed to support a familiar. Maybe – maybe if Zenith had been here –
The instant the thought struck, Grave's throaty voice rang through the air. "Is that everyone? Where is the homunculus knight?"
"He wasn't in the craft, General," a soldier called back.
The soldiers had forced the Blue Sky and Gryseld's fleet to land, then apprehended the crew members on board and marched them outside. Since there were too many to fit in the village, Grave had the prisoners lined up atop the nearby hill.
At least here Theo could breathe easier. No stench of ash and blood and rot. But it felt colder and lonelier somehow, the snow stretching unbroken for miles and the aurora watching silently above.
Grave clicked her tongue. "Curious. Keep looking. So did your knight run away or what, prince? Not very honorable of him."
As she snickered, a hot jolt of fury twisted in Theo's chest. He almost welcomed it. Since the guards had removed his goggles and mask, nothing shielded his face from the frigid air.
"You'll never know," Darian snapped, fearless as ever – though Theo felt sure he wasn't imagining the faint tremble to her voice. "What's the point of all this pomp and ceremony, anyway? Weren't you going to add us to your zombie army?"
"You'd best make it quick," Gryseld said with just as much bravado. "Your current troops don't seem like they'll last the night. One stiff wind might take them out for good."
"You are quite in a hurry to die, aren't you?" Grave sounded more amused than anything. "In due time, my friends. It isn't so simple a matter as killing and reanimating you on the spot. There's a whole ritual, you see...but no need to get into the weeds right now. Besides...."
She paced further down the line, her boots crunching in the snow. The sound pierced the silent night, uncannily loud. Theo forced himself to follow her movements. Stay alert for the slightest opening....
When she stopped in front of Amaro, Theo's heart jumped. Grave snapped her fingers, and the two zombies guarding the pilot pushed him forward.
He glared defiantly at her as she bent down and took his chin between her fingers. Her skin was pale as death against his, except for her pitch-black, claw-like nails. They curved around his cheekbone with an intimacy that made Theo shudder.
"My," Grave murmured, soft and contemplative. "To think there would be such a fine specimen of a man in a place like this."
Cay's indignant sputters almost drowned out her voice; he was tugging furiously against the guards holding him back. Amaro, however, seemed quite calm as he gazed back at Grave.
"Sorry, lady, but you're not my type."
"Oh?" Grave patted his cheek. "A pity. Here I was hoping to make you my new husband."
"Husband?" Cay shrieked, while Amaro's smile slipped just a fraction. Ignoring them both, Grave reached around to stroke the bare skull of the corpse still draped over her back.
"It's quite a privilege," she practically crooned. "Just ask this dear fellow here. I'm starting to get a little tired of him, however. I think it's time for someone new."
"No! Don't you dare – mff!" Cay's voice cut off when the guards shoved him face-down into the snow.
"Hey, listen." Amaro leaned back, but couldn't escape Grave's grip. "The whole matrimony thing just isn't for me, sorry to say. Besides, I'm already taken."
"Oh?" Grave cast a bored glance at the writhing, struggling Cay. "You mean that shrill little beanpole? Well, he'll soon be dead, so it doesn't matter. You as well, but you'll have the honor of being my husband."
She stroked a tender trail down the corpse's shoulder blade, fingertips caressing the bone with a tenderness that made Theo want to vomit. And probably Amaro too, given the ashen tinge to his skin.
I have to do something, Theo thought with renewed desperation. Before Grave killed them all and desecrated Amaro's corpse. Well, she'd desecrate all their corpses by turning them into zombies – yet what she had planned for Amaro seemed so much worse.
It wouldn't happen. It couldn't.
But what – Zenith, please, help us.
The thought struck like a fist to the gut, knocking all the air out of Theo's body. Shame burned in his face. How pathetic could he possibly get? Zenith wouldn't come no matter how hard he begged. He had made the choice to betray Theo.
But he'd also defeated another Grand General. Maybe, just maybe –
No, Theo couldn't stake his hopes on something so improbable. He had to fight with his own power.
When Grave's boots came to a stop in front of his face, he jolted. He hadn't realized she'd been heading his way. Fighting stiff, reluctant muscles, he forced himself to lift his head and meet her gaze.
She stared back, her eyes black as bottomless pits. They were even darker than Hellebore's, without the faintest spark of life.
"Most of you will be processed into my soldiers," she said, never looking away from Theo, "but I was given certain orders by the Infernal Lord himself. You are the homunculus knight's wizard, aren't you? I suppose it doesn't matter if your little toy is nowhere in sight, since you're the one our Lord wants."
The Infernal Lord. Memories swirled through Theo's head – the crushing darkness, wings of dawn light, and a name spoken in a shuddering voice. "Sarieva."
So the Infernal Lord wanted to finish what he had started last time. Dread twisted like a knife through Theo's guts.
Then Grave seized a fistful of his hair. Instinctively he tried squirming free, but she yanked so hard it felt like the hair might tear clean out of his scalp.
Then she dragged him forward and flung him into the snow behind her. Theo gasped when he landed, driving up showers of freezing snow. Coughing and sputtering, he hauled himself to his knees.
He was no longer restrained. Now was his chance – but his heart skipped into his throat when he saw Grave bend down to pick up his fallen staff.
She flicked it open to its full length, gazing at the Star of Miriel. Its facets were dull and dark, without a hint of light, but just seeing it in Grave's hands filled Theo with a sick, despairing fury. Someone like her absolutely couldn't have it, never –
Grave the staff a careless flip. "He wants this little rock too. Good to see you're still holding onto it, boy."
"Let it go," Theo said weakly. But Grave either didn't hear or ignored him, because she kept marching down the line. When she stopped in front of Victor, Theo's heart flipped upside down.
"As for you traitors...." Grave's voice lowered into a silky whisper. "Unfortunately, you won't get the honor of joining my undead army. The Infernal Lord already has plans for your reeducation."
"Is that so? Too bad for him!" Mirage yelled back. "I'll never – "
Swift and dispassionate, Grave lashed out the back of her hand. The slap echoed through the night, and Mirage crumpled into a limp heap in the snow.
"Silence, whore," Grave said, colder than the freezing air. "Well, that should be it for the selection. Oh, and the prince too. Mustn't forget about her."
Darian writhed as the guards marched her forward, twisting her head around to look back at Gryseld. Her face was almost white, eyes huge and desperate. "Gryseld, I'm so – "
"Don't speak too soon, prince," Gryseld said, meeting Darian's gaze with steely confidence.
"How touching," Grave said, syrupy sweet. After the guards deposited Darian in front of her, she snapped her fingers and new soldiers approached from the invisible craft.
As a soldier yanked Theo to his feet, he tried to throw one last glance at the crew. Sam, Ryan, Ryllis, Fia, Meg, everyone – he couldn't let them get turned into zombies, and he couldn't let himself fall into the Infernal Lord's hands –
But he couldn't even fight back against this single soldier. What chance did he stand against a Grand General and her entire army?