Page 107 of Heavensent & Hellbent

If you won’t listen…I said to them before singeing themwith my flames. They hissed. It was endless, their sounds a melody over the crackling fire that surrounded us. Time stilled as their cries cut through the field, forcing Zahhak to his knees. Their cries were his own personal torment, as was originally intended. He struggled to stand, hands held over his ears. I kept the flames over their bodies, torturing them.

I pulled back, marginally.

The snakes began discussions among themselves.

He is deplorable, the one on the left said.Every day, we are unhappy, stuck on the neck of that decrepit fool.

It is true, the other said.We could return to hell. But if it doesn’t work?

Then we will just continue to make his life miserable.

Worth a try, I said.

The snakes crossed each other around Zahhak’s neck, pausing to look at each other before wrapping around again.

“No,” Zahhak choked, removing his hands from his ears and getting up. “What are you saying to them? Stop!”

Don’t you want to be free?I asked just before Zahhak used his powers to send a punch to my gut. I had been bowled over, winded.

When I looked up, I saw that the serpents had tightened their grip on his neck. Squeezed.

Zahhak choked, disbelief plain on his face at their betrayal.

I stood on shaky legs. “You’re wrong,” I said, fire running through my veins. “I will be happy.Wewill be. And that starts with ending you.”

I channeled three hundred years of rage and betrayal and hope from deep within my core, then produced a fireballthat grew and grew until it was half the size of me. The heat and effort of it made my eyes water. Blinking through tears, I pelted the fireball at Zahhak, using all the force I had left, feral screams escaping my lips.

Zahhak’s body was set alight, his garbled cries short and sweet.

Finally, we are free, one of the snakes sung.

Then he was silent.

The Jinn King was dead.

45

After I had let down the flame barriers around me, I was spent, crumpling to the ground to catch my breath. It was only when I lifted my gaze to the battlefield ahead that the silence made sense. Everyone was kneeling. The soldiers. Whoever hadn’t been killed. Even the div. And they were on their knees for Azar, who stood at the center of it all, sword in hand, her eyes wide.

Zain looked on in something like horror, still on the ground, his wings bloodied and mangled, poison in the daggers having rotted his precious wings.

Keyon stood a little way away from Azar and was the only one who wasn’t on the ground, either from kneeling or an injury. He was laughing, shaking his head.

Azar noticed this, and it broke her from the daze of realizing the enormity of what this meant.

“Aren’tyougoing to kneel before me?” she asked.

He stopped laughing, though a smile still traced his lips. He bent himself at the hip, bowing, half mocking. “My apologies,queen.”

Said queen was now making her way back to Zain and me.

“What now?” I asked.

“I need to go to Castiel; he can heal me,” Zain said. The tightness of his gaze told me that he was still in pain but was holding it in.

“Let’s go,” Azar said, her voice commanding more authority now that she was the new Jinn Queen.

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