Chapter 26 #2
He squeezed her hand against his chest. “Because I kept it safe for you. I have kept it safe from the moment we made our first deal. The moment I knew you were my gravesinger, I took your soul, and I placed it where no one would ever find it but me.”
He couldn’t tell her he had shattered the whole thing. He could piece it back together, although it would take a long time. But he’d needed to see every part of her. He’d wanted, in that moment, to gain control over everything she desired.
And now, he used it when he was lonely. When he was alone, he took the pieces of her that would explain her behavior, or sometimes he just watched her memories because they made him smile.
She’d lived so much happiness, and living in those moments made him feel closer to her. Even if it was wrong to do so. Even if it was a betrayal.
The door to the portrait gallery crashed to the floor, the loud bang echoing throughout the house, and some of the infected turned toward the sound—finally noticing Elric and Jessamine standing above them.
Three turned to shamble toward them, like they didn’t remember how to use their legs properly.
“We should go,” Jessamine whispered.
“I need to know that you are all right. That we are all right.”
“This isn’t the time. I don’t want to fight any of them when I know how…”
She didn’t finish the sentence, but he knew what she was going to say. Jessamine feared killing them when she knew technically she was as soulless as they were.
“Nightmare,” he murmured, tugging her toward him even as she fought against him. “You are not them.”
“No, I have the help of a god who made sure I still looked somewhat passible.”
“You know that’s not what I have done.”
She freed herself from his grip, ripping away from him with an angry cry that caught the attention of quite a few others. “No! No, that’s exactly what you have done. What would I look like if you hadn’t healed all my wounds? Would they have healed themselves?”
She jerked her head back, pointing at her throat before gesturing to her other scars, silvery and writhing with his magic. All the pieces of her that he had put together after every attempt on her life.
“Don’t do this,” he muttered.
“No, I want to know! I’m dead, aren’t I?
So would these injuries have healed themselves or knit back together?
Or would I be oozing blood for the rest of my days, just like the creatures down there?
If it weren’t for your magic keeping my soul in my body, would I be wandering in search of something that I will never find?
Would I be losing pieces of myself just like them? ”
He didn’t have an answer for her because he didn’t know.
Elric had brought very few people back from the dead.
That power was the difference between him and his siblings.
Elric always made certain that his people remained who they were when he brought them back from the dead—because he didn’t know what would happen if he didn’t keep watch over their souls.
Clearly, the infected people in this kingdom proved he’d been right to be wary of the undead.
“I don’t know,” he murmured, holding out his hands as though she might take them. “I don’t know, Jessamine. But you are yourself now, that I can promise. I changed nothing about who you were. The only thing that is different is that I hold your soul safe. It kept you alive then and now.”
“Am I supposed to thank you for stealing my soul? For lying to me?” She shook her head, turning her back to all the groaning infected and heading back the way they’d come. “There should be a servants’ exit here. Come with me.”
“Jessamine, we are not finished with this conversation.”
“No, we aren’t,” she snapped. “But I don’t want to die again with all those others. It’s too symbolic, don’t you think? They won’t stop moving until they’re ash, and I will just have to suffer with them.”
If she wanted to be dramatic, fine. He stalked behind her, throwing up bits of magic every time one of the lumbering guards came near her.
They made their way out to the gardens, but Jessamine turned and slapped her palm onto the door they’d just left, muttered out a curse, then turned to him.
Grabbing his hand, she startled him as she rattled off a locking spell that would keep all the infected inside the house, even if a door was opened or a window shattered.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She paused the spell for only a moment. “I’m keeping them contained.”
“But they’re important to the kingdom, are they not? And not just to yours. People need to know that they’re dead.”
She didn’t listen to him, though. She cupped her hands together and breathed into them.
Unlike his own magic, she did not create black smoke, but a glowing mist that pooled in the palms. Flicking her fingers toward the house, tiny droplets of glowing gold floated toward the building.
Beyond the door, he heard the roaring sound of a flame bursting to life.
Then more groans. The closest thing an infected could manage to a scream.
Fire reflected in her gaze as she replied, “I’m doing them a favor, Elric. I’m killing them, because no one else can.”