Brood of Vipers by Maggie Claire (good books for high schoolers .txt) 📕

“His body disintegrated into a black puddle of ooze, yes?” Lady Vatusia nods dismissively, exclaiming, “You didn’t kill him, just his body. He regenerated back in Déchets; he’s probably swapping stories about all the horrible things he did while he was in your lands.”

“Convenient,” Cyrus sneers, his eyes turning black as his truth reading gift takes hold. “Yet I see nothing false about her statements,” he begrudgingly adds, looking a little disappointed to find her telling the truth.

“So why did you come here? Why tell me your story at all?” I wonder, shielding my eyes from the way Lady Vatusia’s image flickers. A strange buzzing sound fills the air, raising the hair on the back of my neck.

A wicked smile lights up her face, and her eyes gleam like tiny golden suns as she watches Cyrus squirm under her inspection. “I came at a sort of crossroads in your future, child. I know you’re preparing for war with Déchets. If you wait for Alaric to come across the Devil’s Spine and attack you, I can assure you that you will fail.” Lady Vatusia lifts her clawed hand toward my head, and immediately visions of the future she’s described spring to life in my mind.

Gasping breath wheezes from my throat as I give voice to the images in my mind, relaying each one to Cyrus before he can attempt to attack Lady Vatusia again. “I see a battlefield painted in blood, Cadogans and Ddraigs alike. I see the king standing over my broken body, laughing maniacally as he swings his sword at my head. I see Suryc and Siri captured, weeping over us, Cyrus. The images keep changing, but each one ends the same.” Tears flood down my face as I watch the litany of death and destruction, helpless against the inevitable fate we face. These images from the Lady Vatusia only confirm what I’ve foreseen in my own mind’s wanderings. “I can’t allow this to happen. There has to be another way.”

“There is.” Lady Vatusia smiles, and the sight of her gleaming white teeth brings me no comfort. It’s like standing before a hungry viper that’s just seen its next meal skitter across the land. “You must bring the fight to the king in our lands, child. That is the one thing he will not expect.”

“No! No way will we venture into Déchets on the word of an abomination like you,” Cyrus bellows, pushing me behind him as he faces off with Lady Vatusia. “We’d be spotted by the border guards and captured before we ever made it to the king. You’re only trying to trick us!”

Lady Vatusia says nothing, her eyes still focused on me. A searing pain streaks through my mind like white-hot lightning. In my ears, I hear the creature’s voice, and I know by Cyrus’s lack of response that the lady is only in my head. I don’t mean your whole group must come to fight the king. Only you, child. You asked me why I came here today—it was to offer you my help. You have a place in Déchets and a title to your name. You will be harder to kill if you are standing by the king’s side, pretending to support his throne. When you see I am right, when you decide to follow my advice, I will be in the fortress to assist you. The only real question is this: How long before you recognize the truth of my words? How many will you allow to die before you step up and fight the battle yourself? You weren’t born into this war, but you can be the one to end it.

I offer her a shaky nod, too overwhelmed to speak. The very idea of waltzing into Déchets, pretending that my own allegiance has changed to support the king, is repulsive to me. I couldn’t pass myself off as such a wicked, fickle traitor.

“My time with you has long passed. The spell holding my spirit here is fading.” Lady Vatusia coughs, blood spewing from her mouth. The strange buzzing sound in the air grows so loud that I must cover my ears, my spine shivering involuntarily. The light surrounding Lady Vatusia brightens until I must shut my eyes against its blinding brilliance. A howling scream erupts from the center of the light as Lady Vatusia’s ethereal body explodes and fizzles in the air. Only a streaky spot on the stones shows any sign of her presence as the light fades and the noise disappears.

My body sags until I fall to my knees, shock and relief at war in my veins. Cyrus falls right beside me, catching me before I tip over and fall on my face. I let him hold me close, whispering his words of comfort into my aching ears. I barely hear them. My mind is far away, lost in a hopeless future that sees me forging myself into a ruthless, brutal weapon and traveling alone to my enemy’s lands to bring down a tyrant king.

“Iris? Are you listening?” Cyrus gently brushes my cheeks, turning my face toward his own. “Are you okay?”

“I’m tired,” I confess, leaning heavily on his chest as I struggle to put weight on my wobbly legs. My heart is burdened by the heavy weight of a purpose I never wanted. I just don’t think I’m strong enough to endure much more. While I whisper the words in my secret heart, I keep them from Cyrus, determined not to add to the troubles he already carries. Instead, I pull on Cyrus’s arm, saying, “Let’s go find Siri and Suryc. It’s time they hear the truth about the Vibría, don’t you think?”

Chapter 7

“Are you ready?” Ithel asks for the seventh or eighth time as the medics leave the infirmary after their final examination before the big event.

“Enough, Ithel. I’m as ready as I can be. It’s hard to imagine it is already time,” Helena barks as she lifts her head from her hands. Seven days of