Chapter 59
Ashes to Ashes
The air left my lungs from his proclamation.
If I’d thought I could hear a pin drop before, then the silence that followed in the wake of his truth was so absolute that a feather would’ve been loud enough to break it.
The stunned silence was palpable. But I didn’t care. The only thing I cared about was the male that stared at me, his expression doubling down on what he’d just admitted.
“Endymion,” I breathed as warmth spread through my entire body while my mind raced to reconcile this truth with everything that had happened.
I’d known he was hiding something from me back in the Summer Court. Could feel it. Now that it was laid bare before all to see, I could feel his relief just the same, and I had to fight to stay afloat from the whirlpool of emotions trying to tug me into its undertow.
“Kaelun,” Wymond said, and I flinched from the intrusion, having forgotten where we were. “Please share with Nyleeria what would happen to them if, say, a High Lord were to sever their kintor before the weaving?”
The summer fae snapped his focus to Wymond looking stricken. “You can’t! She’d never recover.”
Wymond narrowed his eyes in warning. “Tell her.”
Kaelun’s panicked gaze darted between Endymion and me like he could see a future I couldn’t, and it had the hairs on the nape of my neck standing on end.
“A kintor pair,” he began as if reciting a passage he’d memorized in school, “is never more vulnerable than before the weave has been set. The tenuous thread of magic that binds them is fragile—as are their lives. While stronger together, in this phase, magic could break the bond before it has been fully forged.” He swallowed, clearly hesitating before voicing what Wymond was practically frothing at the mouth for me to hear.
My chest stilled as I braced for his next words.
Clearing his throat before he continued, he said, “Should those threads be severed, the kintora, or kintoran, who has offered up the greatest amount of investiture—pieces of their soul—in service of strengthening those threads, will perish the instant they’ve been cut off from their other half.”
“And who would perish should their threads be severed?” Wymond prodded the summer fae.
“Endymion,” I said, dragging my eyes to his.
“Me,” he confirmed, though I hadn’t needed him to.
It was clear in retrospect that he’d known about this kintorian bond when I was human. Had understood it. Had ached because of it.
He’d been emphatic that I trust him back in the Summer Court—desperate, even.
I hadn’t understood him. Why he’d fought me so hard on it; going so far as to offer me a bargain.
Why he’d reacted so viscerally to the violation of Thaddeus’ link.
Stars, was it happenstance that he found me in the Autumn Court after I’d fled from the king, or this kintora we shared?
And down in the cell, I’d pulled hard on whatever had tugged on me—hadn’t he arrived shortly after?
It all started to make sense now. How he’s been around me. How he’d known where to find me the night he’d helped me dispel.
What had Kaelun said? That I’d never be the same if our bond was broken? He was right. As each new revelation popped another piece into place, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I wouldn’t survive the loss of him. I’d barely survived the distance.
Without warning, Wymond clapped his hands, and there was a collective gasp as our kintora came into focus.
It was beautiful. Mesmerizing, even. The tunnel of threads was no wider than my wrist, spanning from the center of my sternum to Endymion’s.
I understood then what Kaelun had meant by investiture.
Endymion’s glittering black threads reached toward mine, stretching as if desperately trying to grasp something out of reach. Or someone. Me.
Mine weren’t nearly as formed, but the glittering white was near blinding. My threads swayed, like river grass caught in a lazy current. In the middle of them all was one, single thread that was bound—no, woven—together.
The High Lord summoned his powers, his hand turning black with Death Thrall as he reached for that singular, vulnerable thread binding us. Endymion thrashed in his restraints trying to break free.
Frozen by shock, I watched in horror as, he paused to looked at me. “If I can’t have my love, then neither can you.”
“No!” I screamed as he moved to sever our bond.
Power erupted from my chest through the tunnel connecting us, and thousands of threads hurtled toward Endymion, wrapping themselves around that single thread.
I hadn’t noticed it at first, but Endymion’s powers did the same from the other side.
The two collided in the center, and an explosion of raw magic burst from where they connected, throwing Wymond back while ignoring Kaelun.
We watched in awe as the extra threads weaved themselves in the most intricate pattern from where they collided.
His glittering darkness mixed with mine like it had when he’d shielded me in that dome that night when I’d leaned into him, and when it finally reached my sternum—and mine reached his—we both cried out.
Words would forever fall short of what I experienced in that moment, but while I instinctively knew that the weaving was still not complete, I finally felt whole, like that aching place in my chest had healed.
Still fully restrained, we stared into each other’s eyes, and it was like nothing I’d experienced before.
“What did I say about using the spark against me, Nyleeria?” Wymond bellowed as he stalked back toward us, fury in his eyes.
“I didn’t choose to, I swear,” I said, suddenly realizing what saving Endymion might cost.
He didn’t pause. Didn’t even act as if he heard my words before gripping Kaelun by the throat.
“No!” Sidrick, Artton, and I yelled in tandem.
“Please, Wymond. Have mercy. It wasn’t his fault. It was mine. I’m not always in control of my powers,” I begged.
“And. What. About. My. Family?” he bellowed, his face red with fury as the ground shook below us.
“Wymond, please,” I cried again. “I’m sorry for your loss. I can’t begin to imagine the pain you’re in, but please, please don’t do this. I swear on the Mother that I didn’t break my word to you.”
“Their deaths are your fault! My family is dead because of you!”
Kaelun let out a strangled sound as he stretched his feet toward the ground, trying to gain purchase as Wymond lifted him up by the throat.
“Stop it!” I yelled, and pulled my magic forth.
“Use that magic against me again, Nyleeria, and I will slaughter every. Last. One of them.”
The spark bucked and cried from my summons to call it back, as if knowing that a part of me would rather doom us all by fighting than watch idly as Kaelun paid Wymond’s unfair toll.
“Wymond,” Endymion said, his calm voice anchoring me enough to keep my head. “This won’t ease your loss.”
“You’re right. It won’t. But at least she’ll feel just a fraction of what I’m going through. And that’s enough.”
“Kill me instead,” Sidrick cried out, and all eyes shot to him. He was shaking with fear and rage, pulling so hard against the restraints that they’d long since dug into his skin, crimson dripping to the wooden floor below.
I wanted to protest. To say no. But how could I deny a brother the right to save another? It was an impossible situation.
Selfishly, I’d wished to be born fae so many times I’d lost count. Now, I wished it for the sake of others. Had I been able to wield the spark from birth, Wymond would be the one taking his final breaths. And Mother help me, I would never forgive the gods for cursing me with this burden.
I’d never forgive myself.
“I don’t think so, Sidrick,” Wymond said.
“You’re too valuable to your High Lord. Besides, I want to watch you come apart, to remember how it felt when you go back to Caius with your tail between your legs.
I want you to deliver the news that I possess the spark, and if he doesn’t bend the knee, I will kill everyone he loves before I take his court from him.
“That will be his punishment, and yours, for harboring her. For allowing her to make Lumnara so unstable that my family died. But,” he drawled, “I’m not so cruel that I won’t offer the little whelp his last words.”
He lowered Kaelun down and released the grip on his throat. The instant his feet touched the ground, Wymond’s dark powers tightened around me, and the grunts of pain from the others let me know he’d done it to them too.
The message clear—make a move, and we die.
My bottom lip quivered as I stared up at Kaelun, who was gathering himself to speak.
This kind, loving fae still shone with life even as tears stained his cheeks. He smiled at his brother through the pain with a serene, almost accepting look.
“Tell Addy I love her,” he finally said, and my quivering lip turned into silent sobs, shaking my body with grief.
“I will,” Sidrick said, his voice loving and calm. I could only imagine what holding back his emotions cost him. “We’ll take care of her. I swear it.”
“I know,” his younger brother said. “There’s a note for her in my nightstand back home. Make sure she gets it.”
Sidrick nodded, a tear falling loose.
“Tell Uncle C that I’ll still see him on the flip side,” he added.
A full sob escaped me from the memory, knowing now the flip side had such a different meaning.
“Forgive yourself, brother. That goes for all of you.” He looked at us all in turn.
“Even you, Uncle Artty. I chose to be here. Remember that.”
“That’s enough,” Wymond said, cutting off Kaelun’s next words.
“Soldier,” Sidrick called out. “It was an honor.”
Kaelun smiled at him, saluting as he said, “The honor was mine, Sir.”
Without another word, Wymond pressed both hands to Kaelun’s chest. His warm chestnut eyes met mine as he mouthed, Be strong. And then, he crumpled like dried autumnal leaves crushed in the High Lord’s palm as he fell to the ground in a heap of ash.
I didn’t hear Sidrick’s uncontrollable howls of grief. Nor did I hear Artton utter threats of retribution. I didn’t hear the vicious laugh, or Thaddeus’ taunts. I didn’t even turn to the male who I was bound to, even though I could feel his gaze bore into me.
No. I just stared at what remained of the kindest, most loving soul I’d ever met in utter disbelief—and I knew I couldn’t survive another loss.
“I demand a bargain,” I said, the words barely audible.
The cacophony of sounds bombarded my senses, and I raised my voice. “I demand a bargain.”
“Nyla, no,” Endymion plead from my side, the only one close enough to hear me.
“I. Demand. A. Bargain,” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
The room fell silent.
“What did you just say?” Wymond asked, voice hard.
I looked him in the eyes and lifted my chin. “I said, I demand a bargain.”
“Ny, don’t,” Tarrin called.
“Silence!” the High Lord snapped.
His magic loosened its grip on me, and I wiped my cheeks clean as I stood to face him.
“What exactly is it that you have to bargain with?”
“The spark,” I said plainly.
Thaddeus laughed from Wymond’s other side. “Look around, Nyleeria. We don’t need a bargain to take the spark.”
“Actually,” I said, crossing my arms, “you do.”
The High Lord raised a questioning brow, then indicated for me to continue.
“Thaddeus, explain to the High Lord why you lowered yourself to begging me for the spark while we were in bed, instead of just taking it.”
Wymond looked to the king, whose lips were pursed as he took my measure. “Thaddeus?”
The king didn’t answer.
“It’s because,” I said, “his spell needs a willing participant for it to work. And allow me to be crystal clear when I say that I am not, nor will I be willing, unless you enter into a bargain with me.” I stared Wymond down, daring him to challenge me.
He gestured around us. “I’d say there are four more reasons for you to oblige.”
I took a small step forward. “Then do it,” I challenged, “but know the second you so much as harm a hair on their heads, I will refuse you the spark—forever.”
“You’re bluffing,” Thaddeus scoffed.
I tilted my head, still holding the High Lord’s gaze. “Am I?”
Wymond narrowed his eyes in assessment. Carefully, he said, “You’d sacrifice all of them to prove your point?”
I shook my head. “No. If they die, I no longer have a reason to live. But if I must live under those circumstances, then I will make it my life’s mission to keep you from yours.
And trust me when I say that I will bathe in your anger as I deprive you from the vengeance you seek for Lanacia and your son.
You see, Wymond, you made a mistake killing Kaelun in cold blood, because you’re not the only one that can break someone.
The problem is, when I break, I snap, and I have no qualms taking you down with me—regardless of the cost.
“So, tell me, are you willing to pay the price of their deaths? Because I am.”