Chapter 26
All the breath left Viri’s lungs as she laid eyes on her brother for the first time in seven years.
No longer a fourteen-year-old boy, Braedan Solace was now a young man, albeit one who looked as if he’d battled his way through the entire Mistwood.
His face was covered in dirt and scratches, his green cloak torn and muddied, his auburn hair mussed and windswept.
But it was the black veins streaking up his arms and his familiar pale blue eyes—their father’s eyes—that made Viri feel as if she’d been punched in the stomach.
Braedan, too, looked as if he’d seen a ghost as Viri and Reeve arrived in the center of the room, his eyes widening and his face draining of color.
But he recovered quickly and spun toward the Guardian, words rushing out of him so fast that Viri didn’t have a chance to think, let alone try to stop him as he declared, “Guardian, I wish for the death of—”
Reeve lunged forward and yelled over him, “I wish for Braedan not to get a wish!”
“NO!” Braedan roared, but he was too late.
With a wave of the Guardian’s hand, ellixen flooded the room, strong enough to make the hairs on the back of Viri’s neck stand on end.
“Your wishes are fulfilled,” the mage said in a deep voice, looking oddly amused as he peered between them all.
Viri was so stunned by what had happened—or not happened—that she was frozen in place.
In all their talks about the Guardian and the tower and the legend, she’d never once considered what it would mean if she and Reeve made it to Nevarnost. All along, she’d been worried about Braedan getting a magewish, and had forgotten that anyone who found the Guardian would get one.
But Reeve hadn’t forgotten—and he’d just used his to save them all.
“What did you do?” Braedan rasped out to Reeve, looking horrified.
His words jolted Viri from her shock, reminding her that she’d spent the last seven years chasing him—the elusive Reaper Priest—and now she finally had a chance to capture him.
She leapt forward, uncoiling her fillium as she raced across the circular room, readying herself for the fight of her life.
She expected a battle.
She didn’t expect to make it barely three steps before another surge of ellixen forced her into a sudden stop, rooting her feet to the polished stone floor and immobilizing her body from the neck down.
Betrayal flooded her as she slashed her eyes toward Reeve, but he wasn’t even looking at her, his focus entirely on Braedan.
The Guardian, however…he winked at Viri, the gesture revealing that he was the one who had turned her into a statue.
Before she could demand her release, Reeve marched forward to answer Braedan, the two of them squaring off face to face.
“What did I do?” Reeve repeated incredulously. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Me?” Braedan’s hands balled into fists. “You have no idea what you just—”
“It’s you who has no idea what you nearly did!” Reeve fumed, throwing his arms out to the sides. “Elders, Brae, you can’t kill the Reaper Lord!”
Viri jerked at the unfamiliar title—or jerked as much as she could, given her immobilized state.
“That’s exactly what we need to do!” Braedan yelled back. “Never mind what that bastard has done to us both in the last seven years—if the Aurora sacrifice goes ahead, then it’s not just a heap of kids who will die, but the obelisks will be destroyed and everyone will die!”
Viri jerked again, because he was the one who wanted to destroy the obelisks. It was his sacrifice.
“There’s a contingency in place,” Reeve said through gritted teeth.
“If the Reaper Lord dies, there’ll be a huge release of ellixen—years and years of stolen power.
The magical surge alone will be enough to repel the mist from around Mount Mort, leaving the reapers free to escape Diaboros. All of them.”
The words were nonsensical to Viri, but Braedan lurched backward as if slapped. “What?” he breathed, his temper fleeing.
Reeve loosed a shaky breath and ran his hands through his hair.
“It’s what I wanted to tell you before you took off without warning.
We have to find another way to stop the sacrifice—something that doesn’t involve killing the Reaper Lord.
Otherwise the city will fall regardless.
” His face was grim. “We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, Brae, but if you’d gone through with this, if you’d used your wish to kill the Reaper Lord, then—”
“Everyone would have died anyway,” Braedan whispered, looking like he was going to be sick. “If Diaboros falls…”
“Then Aravell falls,” Reeve finished gravely. “The city won’t stand a chance.”
Silence fell in the wake of their heavy words, but Viri couldn’t hold her tongue a moment longer. “Someone needs to explain what the hell is going on, right now.” She slitted her gaze at the Guardian. “And you need to let. Me. Go.”
His luminous eyes glowed with humor. “You could have freed yourself at any time, Daughter of Death,” he said, using the same name the wraith had called her, causing goosebumps to prickle her flesh.
But then he waved his hand, and she was released from his grip, leaving her free to lunge toward her brother.
Only, she didn’t move an inch, the conversation she’d just overheard keeping her in place—for now.
“Who’s the Reaper Lord?” she demanded, looking between Reeve and Braedan. “What’s Diaboros?” She turned her glare on Reeve. “You seem to have left a few things out in, oh, everything you shared with me.”
Reeve’s face was a mask of calm. “You wouldn’t have believed me if I’d told you the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That Braedan isn’t evil,” he said simply. “And he’s not behind the Aurora sacrifice.”
Fire burned in Viri’s chest. “He’s the Reaper Priest.” She jabbed a finger toward her brother.
“He killed our parents.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Braedan flinch, but she kept her furious gaze on Reeve.
“He’s the epitome of evil. And in case you forgot, you’re the one who told me he’s using the sacrifice to destroy the obelisks. ”
Reeve shook his head. “I never said that. I only said we needed to stop him.”
“From doing the sacrifice and destroying the obelisks.”
“No, from making his magewish.”
“A magewish that would help him destroy the obelisks.” Viri’s voice rose. “You said that.”
“I didn’t,” Reeve said, still frustratingly calm in the face of her anger.
“I told you the sacrifice is intended to destroy the obelisks, and that’s true.
I also told you we needed to stop Braedan, which was also true.
But those were two separate things. You just assumed they were one and the same. ”
Viri couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You let me assume that,” she snarled.
“I did,” Reeve said shamelessly. “I needed your help to get here as fast as possible so we could prevent him from dooming us all. I never lied about that.” He blew out a breath. “Be annoyed all you want, but everything I did was for all the reasons I said—to save the city.”
“Then you need to explain that,” Viri ground out, leaning forward with her hands on her hips. “No more misleading half-truths. If you want me to believe you, then you need to tell me everything you know.”
Reeve sighed and rubbed a weary hand over his face. “I’m not sure you’re going to believe me regardless of what I say. But here it is: You’ve been chasing the wrong person for seven years.”
Viri saw red, a sound leaving her lips that was part hiss, part scoff, all rage. “Are you really going to stand there and tell me he’s not the Reaper Priest? Really?”
“No, he is,” Reeve said quickly, stepping closer as if to soothe her before thinking better of it and halting again.
“But the title is a distraction, something used to keep you and every other hunter from learning about the Reaper Lord—the leader of all reapers who rules Diaboros, a reaper city hidden deep inside Mount Mort.”
There was a ringing sound in Viri’s ears after his declaration, a combination of shock and incredulity. “That’s impossible,” she said roughly, latching onto the first argument that came to mind. “Mount Mort is covered in blackmist.”
“It’s surrounded by blackmist,” Reeve corrected. “But the inside is sealed like Mount Tembris and Mount Verta. There’s an entire population of reapers living in there, with generation after generation of them growing up inside, all trapped in place by the mist.”
Viri shook her head. Shook it again.
“They siphon from each other to survive,” Reeve went on determinedly, “or from any kids they have—stopping before they kill them, so they can siphon again later—until those kids either succumb to burnout or become reapers themselves. They’re all desperate to leave, starved for fresh sources of ellixen, but the mist is a death sentence to almost all who try to escape.
Only a few ever make it out, always during rare pockets of time when the mist lifts just enough to offer a brief window of safety.
It’s a massive risk, but those who do manage to break free are the reason you and your hunter friends still have jobs. ”
Reapers are like rats—no matter how many we catch and throw in the Underlock, they just keep appearing.
Viri swallowed as her own words from a week ago replayed in her mind, hating how Reeve’s admission explained why the hunters could never eradicate reapers entirely. But even so…“We would know if there was a city of reapers. That’s not something that can be hidden.”
“Where do you think we’ve been living for the last seven years?
” Reeve asked, indicating himself and Braedan, the latter of whom was remaining wisely silent, as if aware that Viri was two seconds away from wrestling him through the wayportal and straight to the Underlock.
“Where better to hide than in a city no one knows exists? Especially no hunters. There’s a reason you never came close to finding us. ”
“But you said the mist keeps everyone trapped in—”