53. Chapter Fifty-Three
When I thought of death, war didn’t immediately come to mind.
Now, I feared I would never unsee it.
When I thought of war, though…misery ensued, a hollow, miserable feeling that numbed the bones, then the heart, and eventually, the mind. It was a given—with war, there was death. It was unavoidable, but as Yenira’s fading existence swarmed to the front of my mind, I wept. I stumbled through the meadows until the cracked earth led me to a tree.
Just as those faceless voices had prophesied.
With that cryptic promise of death, I stared upon Sapphire’s lifeless body. This was when I truly started to weep, when every muscle in my body turned limp as I fell to my knees as I tried to stumble forward. I croaked out my screams for her, watching her legs swing with the wind. She wasn’t alone, though—there were a dozen other soldiers hanging from the branches like a twisted piece of art. Fresh blood dripped from their fingers and legs, but I was selfish.
I only cared for one of their deaths.
A certain element of darkness bounced between their hands, linked by nails that bound them to the branches. This wasn’t just war, though. This was evil. This was by the hands of a sick, twisted goddess who’d manipulated Yenira into heinous things she’d once left behind, by the hands of an absent king who controlled two too many courts—a king who deserved the worst of deaths.
Sólkon was a terrible, terrible man. There was darkness to this realm that could only exist because of Myrthana, but I knew his twisted heart was not because of magic or halfling blood. It was because of his own choices. It was because he, in every form and fashion, desired blood.
As I found my balance, I screamed so loud that the dead leaves blew off the trees, flitting onto the snowy soil. The trunk splintered, and when I let my hands fall to the ground, blood dampened my calloused, scarred skin. The sounds of war had silenced—metal against metal, heart against heart. It simply ceased. Silence kissed the lands, but I feared it was because of death beyond my comprehension.
But no loss could compare to this.
So I let the tears burn into my skin like fire. “Sapphire,” I wailed, hands trembling as I broke pieces of dead bark until I got a hold on the tree. I climbed, splinters tearing into my skin and drawing blood. I was numb, but I had to get her down. I had to get her—
“Sapphire,” I sobbed into the air again, my voice echoing into the night air. The branch was thin, and my body wobbled as I crawled, legs and arms hugging it so I didn’t fall. Her hands were so, so cold, and my lip trembled as my shaky hands reached for the nail that tore through bones. It was made of silver, though, and I cried out as my skin touched it. No, no, I wouldn’t let something so mundane ruin this. I would not let her die this sort of death.
The darkness of untold magic was enveloping me. That familiar whisper of a goddess forgotten swarmed throughout my mind, but I screamed at it to go away. The branch splintered at the wake of my rage, of my magic, but I grabbed hold of the screw with my nails and forced it out of Sapphire’s hand. I had to lean forward and catch her limp, cold wrist, my fingers bleeding from the silvery burn. It burned through my skin like acid, but I had one more to get. I had to make this work. I had to get her down. But when I reached for the other and dislodged it, her bone cracked. A sick, wet rip echoed in the air as the man her left hand was attached to swung to the side. His other hand broke free, and his lifeless body thudded onto the ground. I choked on a gasp, disgust and terror roiling through my chest. This time, when a wave of magic roared out of me, it ruined my balance.
And my hold on Sapphire slipped as I collapsed off the tree. When I landed on my side, my ribcage cracked. I screamed out, thrashing as the darkness chased after me. Unlike the magic wielded by other fae, halflings, or sorceresses, this had a mind of its own. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before—akin to cold, deathly air and arctic waters. It was drowning me from the outside, suffocating me as I rolled away and swatted at the shadows.
“Let,” I breathed, “me,” another hiss, “go!”
Magic in its rawest form bled from my fingertips. It illuminated the dark sky like a beacon, forming a dome of hope as starlight exuded from every pore. My feet lifted from the ground, and the stars destroyed the darkness like a moon swallowing the light. My bones ached; they cracked and they popped. My back, arching at a degree it shouldn’t, contorted with the weight of magic as I wailed.
And when I fell to my knees, the magic exploded into the distance and swallowed the night whole. With it, silence ensued.
I found myself missing the clanging of iron against iron, the cries of injured men no longer littering the air. Starlight rained like a misty storm, mixing into the snow and glistening as they would above. The sounds of war stopped—but I didn’t care.
I crawled towards Sapphire’s body and straightened her legs before untwisting her broken arms. I sobbed, wailed, screamed into the silent air. Sapphire had been a friend—she had been good, kind, and wise in moments where I wanted nothing more than to give into the darkness swallowing me whole. She was the reason I wasn’t corrupted by the forgotten goddess—why my halfling blood had not turned toxic.
And she died for it.
Sólkon lived, Yenira faded into dust, and Julius was lost to his own mind, but…Sapphire? In all her kindness and mercy? She perished.
When I dipped my head back, stars beamed from my eyes. They formed rivers down my face, and by the way it burned, I wouldn’t be surprised if they scarred. “No!” I roared and grabbed hold of her wrist. “No!”
The words were resounding commands, power exuding from every word.
“You will not die!”
This was not in the cards. This would never be an option. I leaned over her body and ignored the spasms along every muscle in my body, fought past the agony of my broken fingers and sprained ankles as I grabbed hold of her face. It was blue at the edge of her mouth, bruised where there weren’t cuts, cut where there weren’t bruises. She’d been maimed. She’d been made an example.
I was in her place once, strung up by silver and rope and stripped to be carved upon by teeth that weren’t meant for me. Marked by a man who would never be my mate, but who wanted nothing more than to see me fail if he did not get my magic. Sólkon would die for this.
He didn’t deserve death, in fact. He deserved worse.
I screamed down at her in utter despair. I needed Sapphire. I needed her as much as I needed Eero or Azalea. When my fingertips glowed, the pain started to subside.
I wanted to curse the gods responsible for this. I deserved to feel pain and suffering—I could have found her faster. I could have saved her. I had the means. I was over the other side of those rolling hills. I was just too slow—and if I had been a bigger fool, I would have broken another bone to make sure I continued feeling.
But as stars lingered behind the fingers that dragged across her cheek, the cold, blue death started to fade. My sobs slowed into exasperated gasps. I looked overhead and saw streams of starlight spiraling in the shape of a tornado, twisting and cycling endlessly until it touched down over Sapphire’s heart. The crimson eyes in the sky turned toward the shore, a dark haze suffocating the blinding light they created.
When I lowered my focus back to her, I felt drawn to the impossible light. I reached for it and closed my eyes. For the first time in months, the hollow feeling in my chest subsided, and I was left with utter warmth. Inexplicable. Beautiful. Life. It was life I bled into Sapphire’s body by way of starlight. In a way, it ushered in another wave of tears.
It consumed my body as I spilled all my magic into her. Every drop, every ounce of effort. I hadn’t ever felt such energy before, but for Sapphire, I’d expel it all until I was wrinkled like a prune and barely breathing. But when my feeble body leaned over hers, and I felt the still, half-mortal heart beneath her chest start to beat like a weak drum, my voice cracked.
“Live,” I cried. “I need you to live.”
And with my final wail, with the final push of magic, the light rushed back toward our bodies and whooshed like the winds of a terrible storm. It whipped my hair in front of my face, and when I screamed in terror and leaned over her body to protect it, time stood still.
When the stars went through our bodies, everything froze.
The darkness had returned.
The war had ceased.
As I lifted my head and looked at Sapphire’s face, I saw a tear stream down her cheek—and then I saw her blue lips part into a gasp. Her heart reverberated against my hands, and her eyes opened. No longer crimson—no longer marked by a goddess undeserving of her magic—her gaze was marked by stormy starlight. Gray. Dazzling, magical gray.
And when she looked at me, it was she who wept.
Sapphire was saved. I could feel the pain return to my muscles, could feel every aching bone inside my body, but I didn’t care. I let her lunge at me, arms wrapping around my body as she cried into my shoulder. The blood from her shredded skin seeped through my torn clothes, but it reminded me how fragile our lives were.
Between her wailing cries came a raspy, weak, quiet, “Thank you.”
I’d never felt so lightheaded in my life, but I sniffled the blood back down my throat and squeezed my eyes shut. I could do nothing other than repeat the very thing I’d taken for granted all my mortal life.
Live.