Chapter 47
“You can do this,” I bite out, pacing from wall to wall in the small slumbersuite. I crack my neck, preparing for what I’m about to do.
Brave my Other’s den. Like an idiot.
I rip off my cloak and toss it on the pallet.
Fist my hands, loosen them. Suddenly lacking a single drip of the confidence that drove me across the courtyard and in through the front door.
That had me kicking off my boots and charging up the stairs, not even blinking in Pyrok’s direction when he woke from his snoring slumber and asked if the world had ended yet.
I’ve only got seven rises to reach Bhoggith, eliminate the hit, then deliver bits of him to the serpent bitch in her purple palace of pain and apparently save The Flourish. And myself, I guess.
Seven.
Rises.
That leaves no time to waste, but I can’t go before speaking to Kaan. Meaning I’ve got until he returns to hunt for Bulder’s language. Except now that I’m behind this locked door, preparing to plunge headfirst into my internal dumping ground, the idea has turned to ash in my mouth.
Going within … I risk coming face-to-face with my Other.
I’m not ready for that. Not sure I ever will be, but I’m certain I don’t have the ability to protect everyone that’s cracked into my heart.
And that outweighs everything.
I blow out a sigh, pause to jiggle the door handle, double-checking I locked it properly—
A slit of pain carves from my elbow all the way to the tips of my fingers, making the tendons tighten so hard my hand bunches into a gnarly knot.
I fall to my knees, seething through clenched teeth as I pry my fingers back, hoping to stop my tendons from suffering any damage that might prevent me from doing my fucking job with any amount of ease. No doubt Sereme’s singular aim.
Make this as difficult as possible without incapacitating me entirely. Bring me to heel.
The usual poison.
The pain shifts. Hacks up my arm, across my shoulder blades, and down to my other hand, cramping it into an equally twisted knot while I chew on my wild compulsion to laugh—if I only had the breath.
Darkness has gathered at the corners of my vision by the time the pain eases enough I’m able to fill my lungs.
My body loosens.
I flop against the door, shuddering through gulped breaths.
Consider skipping every step bar climbing atop Líri and flying straight to Gore with one goal in mind: find a way to force Sereme to sever our blood bind, even if that means severing some fingers to get her to yield.
Something that’ll wound me as much as it wounds her, but fuck it.
What’s a couple of fallen phalanges in exchange for my untethered freedom?
Cold floods my veins—the only warning I get before I’m ripped back and stuffed beneath the shattered surface of my internal lake.
Shards smash me from all angles, like I’m caught in a mug of water being sloshed about by a shaking fist—preventing me from reaching the surface.
By the time the water calms, I’m trapped beneath a thick sheet of frosted ice impossible to punch through, even as I put my entire soul into each fisted blow.
I’m down here. With her.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
My knuckles shred as I punch, punch—
A cracking sound echoes through the water.
I pause to examine the dense barrier, but the crack isn’t here.
It’s—
Movement hooks my stare toward the shore. To where something is stepping out onto the ice, oozing silver light that spears into the dark abyss.
My heart hitches, hands flattening as those luminous shafts drift closer … closer … all to the tune of thumping steps and clangorous cracks. A haunting melody that prickles my skin, raises my pulse.
I guess she’s not down here with me after all.
I shift until I’m directly beneath a heavily frosted patch, watching those blades of light slice through the water, herding closer. Swarming me as the immense presence slows directly above, becoming still.
Silent.
There’s not a single breath of sound, nor the thump of a beating heart as I’m struck with the tingly sense that my Other’s waiting for something. Not sure what, and I don’t intend to find out.
Flipping so fast I get a head spin, I dive headfirst toward the distant den. Intent on putting space between us, yes, but mainly I’m relieved.
She’s above. Not down here, skulking around while I search.
This is perfect.
Who knows how long it’ll last, but I’d be stupid to waste this opportunity to get what I need and—ideally—never deep-dive again.
Creators, I hope she doesn’t eat anyone up there …
I better be quick.
Reaching the cluster of pillars, I’m about to force myself between them when I notice something … off.
Last time my Other stuffed me down here, only the pillar at the center of the cluster showed any signs of being nested on.
Now, numerous pillars have been worn into a concave dip, each cradling a pile of those luminous, silver egg-shaped stones.
Like my Other’s been working tirelessly, dividing the pile across several nests.
Frowning, I shift toward a pillar’s edge so I can better see the central one, now cradling only two treasures: the velvety black rock that looks like a lump of coal and an egg-shaped stone that’s marbled black and silver—
I look away, suffering a soul-deep shiver that leaves me certain I never want to know what secret that stone contains. Move toward a pile of the pure silver ones, a collection of my Other’s memories, no doubt, based on the flashback that attacked me last time I accidentally touched one.
Why did she shift them?
I edge closer to the small mound, heart stilling as I catch sight of something black between the gaps, sharp edged on one side but smooth on the other. Like it’s been buffered by the … tides of … time.
“You’ve got to be fucking with me,” I mutter, innately aware of what it is. A shattered bit of memory stone she’s smothered with the egg-shaped silver ones—so purposely placed it’s impossible for me to touch without shifting things around.
The sinking feeling in my chest tells me it’s not just any stone. It’s the one I need.
I groan, swim toward the next pillar nest piled with argent treasures, seeing another shard of black tucked beneath. Also impossible to grab without some excavation work and a side of emotional trauma.
Teeth gritted, I scan the nests. Realize exactly what this is.
A trade station.
She’s taken the memory I want, smashed it into bits, and hid the respective shards beneath her memory eggs. So if I want to fast-track my learning of Bulder’s language, it comes at a cost.
Me, absorbing bits of her past. Memories that possibly involve … Elluin.
If she’s trying to establish some sort of relationship with me, she’s going to be sorely disappointed at the watered-down version of the brave little girl she bonded with.
I tip my head and stab my gaze toward the distant surface, ball my hands into fists, and fill my lungs with icy water that fails to put me out of my misery. “I heartily disapprove!” I yell, then press my chin to my chest, not wanting to see if she responds at all.
One spiral at a time.
Turning, I drag myself to the closest pile of pre-prepared torture fuel and drop to my fucking knees, bearing all the enthusiasm of someone walking themselves to a noose.
I don’t bother trying to work out which egg stone is going to hurt less.
Chances are the only safe option is not to touch them at all.
But I came down here for bits of Bulder’s language, and dammit, I can’t afford to leave empty-handed.
There’s too much at stake.
I wriggle my outstretched fingers before I close my hand around a stone and pull … immediately dropped into the body of—
Her.