Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
ELARIYA
“We need to do something,” Garrick was the first to speak.
We'd just portaled back to Vyrenth Hollow and gathered in the living room.
After Wolfe told us he'd been set up, Bastian and Alaric petitioned Artemyss to review the case in light of the new information. He refused.
He didn't believe Wolfe had changed back and declared his innocence, and he definitely didn't believe he'd been framed.
For obvious reasons, Bastian and Alaric never mentioned Zyrra. Wolfe's claim that he'd been set up should have been enough.
But damn it, Artemyss dismissed the request as inadmissible hearsay. Bastard.
The damning death sentence still stood strong. And Wolfe was still being classed as an abomination that needed to be eliminated.
The numbness had returned to my body, but it had grown worse, tightening my skin. I had that feeling again where I wanted to rip it off my body.
I stood with the others, watching.
They all looked like lost sheep, and I was no better.
None of us had a plan or a solution, and Garrick’s comment hung in the air like a dark cloud.
“Like what, Garrick?” Bastian asked after a long moment. Though he looked his usual calm, his entire body was tense. “Do you have a suggestion on something we haven’t tried? Because from where I’m standing, we’ve done everything we could.”
Garrick flicked his palms over and gave a long sigh. “There must be something we haven’t thought of. We have to put our heads together and—”
“There’s nothing to be done,” Alaric cut in. “The review was denied and anything else we come up with will take too much time. Wolfe is a Deathwalker.”
“We could think of a way to stabilize him. Anything to keep him from shifting back to wraith form,” Garrick stuttered. “Then he could give his testimony.”
“Do you not think I’ve already thought of that!” Alaric barked, his eyes blazing. I’d never heard him snap like that. “He’s my brother. I’ve thought of everything.”
“I may not share blood like you, but Wolfe is my brother, too. I can’t just give up on him like you.”
“You fucking asshole.”
Alaric went to lunge at him, and Garrick was ready to fight. I could see it happening. They’d tear each other apart in a pointless fight that would just make them feel worse. All that angst would count for nothing.
But Kaem stepped in and spread them apart with a forced flip of his hands. Alaric and Garrick went crashing against the walls on either side of the room.
“Stop it. Stop it right now.” Kaem fumed and balled a fist. “Fighting amongst yourselves won’t help anyone. You’re the fucking Bloodsworn. Act like it.”
A sharp silence settled over the room, and we all glanced at one another. Alaric and Garrick exchanged regretful looks, the anger from their outburst already fading. Bastian turned to Arielle, worry etched across his face. I met Kaem's gaze.
At eighteen hundred years old, he was the oldest and wisest among us.
I might not have known him that well, but I knew he already had the answer to this situation.
“Do we have any hope?” I asked him, my voice whisper-soft.
He let out a slow breath and gave his head a tiny shake, making the ends of his long graying hair brush over his shoulders. “No, my Lady. There is none. Alaric is right. Whatever we come up with will be too late.”
“We never had a chance,” Alaric rasped, slumping against the wall.
“No,” Kaem agreed.
“We have three days.” Alaric’s gaze fell. “Three days until the dissolvement. They’ll make me perform it. It’s the Nightblade way.”
“What happens?” I asked, already afraid of the answer. “What is a dissolvement?” I’d deliberately avoided reading about the punishments. I’ve been too terrified of what they might do to Wolfe.
“Maybe it’s best you don’t know,” Arielle cut in, her face pale.
I shook my head. “I need to know. Tell me.”
“Dissolvement is…” Alaric lifted his head and met my gaze. “It’s the act of removing a magical being from the world. It will be as though they never existed. They’ll have no soul, so no way of getting to the heavens or hells or anywhere in between. They become nothing. A Nevermore.”
My heart…
The pain there clamped in on itself and exploded, flooding my body with too much grief.
The agony deep in my soul stirred as I imagined the horror Wolfe would experience. It was too much to bear.
Turning away, I walked out of the room, leaving them before I fell apart.
I made it to my bedroom and threw myself in the chair by the window that had become both my prison and a solace. I rested my head back against the cushion and huffed out a series of short, ragged breaths.
As soon as the first tear trickled down my cheek, Arielle came through the door, her eyes glassy with tears, too. She marched up to me and sat on the window seat.
“Elariya,” she whispered.
“I can’t breathe properly, Arielle. I can’t function. I just…” I pulled in a ragged breath to stop the rest of the tears from falling. “If I fall apart now, there’d be no coming back. I’d have no anchor to stop me from drifting into despair.”
“I know. Just try to stay strong.”
“What for? What do I have to stay strong for?”
“Yourself.”
I shook my head. “There is no me without him. So, they might as well sentence me to death, too.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I mean it.”
Arielle reached forward and placed her hands over mine. “I’m going to help you calm down.”
“I don’t want to calm down.”
“You need to. Your hands are glowing again.”
I looked at my hands and yes, there were indeed glowing beneath hers. She released me so I could get a better look.
At the Citadel, they’d glowed gold, but now there were streaks of blue threads rippling within the glow.
“What is happening to me?”
“Something new. Something good.” She offered a faint smile. “But we can figure that out later. Right now, I need you to relax.”
I shook my head again. “I don’t know how.”
“Just trust me.” She lowered her voice, speaking in a lulling tone. “Close your eyes.”
Arielle covered my hands again, and the warmth of her skin soothed me. The glow calmed and I closed my eyes.
Heat emitted from where Arielle touched and rushed over me like a blanket. By the time it reached the top of my head, my mind drifted away to a space filled with white light.
The tension in my body loosened, but just a fraction.
It didn’t take much to wind me up again. The thought of Wolfe’s dissolvement took me right there.
In my mind’s eye, I could see it. Him being eradicated, ripped from this world.
All that love we shared would be nothing but a memory.
My eyes snapped open. I wanted to tell Arielle there was no way I could relax, but it wasn’t her who stared back at me.
It was my mother.
She smiled at me, her blood-red hair shimmering against the sunlight and hazel eyes that mirrored mine brightening at the sight of me.
At first, I thought I was imagining her. Gods, I needed her. Maybe this was my calm.
But then she extended her hand to cup my face and I realized this was real.
The thought barely formed when Grandmother and Emabelle stepped into my view, smiling at me too.
“Oh…my… please tell me I’m not dreaming.”
“You’re definitely not dreaming,” Emabelle answered. “Not with all the beauty creams could my skin glow this much in the mortal realm.”
Trust Emabelle to lighten the load of a terrible situation. Despite everything, I cracked a smile, but as I looked at them, I broke. I finally broke and the tears came.
My mother pulled me into her arms and held me there, allowing me to break in the safety of her warmth.
Apparently, I’d been asleep for almost a full day. Whatever spell Arielle had cast to calm me knocked me right out, even though it seemed I’d only closed my eyes for a few moments.
Now my family and I sat in the sunroom. We came here when my tears had finally subsided and I felt strong enough to unfold myself from my mother’s arms.
Sirril had already prepared a feast for us, and everyone had allowed us the privacy to spend time together.
Alaric had asked my family to come as soon as possible when he saw how distraught I was after the trial. They knew I’d broken the memory curse and had my memories restored, so I filled in the blanks about everything else.
“I’d hoped our visit would be more cheerful,” Grandmother stated, her pale eyes scanning me. “But there was no way it could.”
Mother and Emabelle hung their heads. They sat on the sofa across from Grandmother and me.
“No,” I replied, my throat still hoarse.
Mother looked around and focused on something beyond the window. “It’s sad. I’d hoped for a more cheerful reunion, too. The wedding was so beautiful. I never imagined returning to the magical realm after a lifetime of absence to experience this disaster.”
When she looked back at me, it seemed like she didn’t know what else to say to make me feel better. I understood. I wouldn’t know what to say, either.
“I just can’t believe the magistrates won’t even try to find another way,” Emabelle offered. “Some alternative to death. Even imprisonment for life would be better.”
She was right. At least a life sentence would give us time. This was just so final.
“He’s royalty after all,” she added. “Doesn’t that count for anything here?”
Grandmother straightened and shook her head.
“My dear, being royalty here makes the punishment so much worse. At least in the mortal lands, if they don’t burn you at the stake or behead you, a royal would have the option of life imprisonment.
In Galaythia, the ancient magic that governs the realm places the law in the hands of the Citadel.
The only other law above that is the Accords, and you can’t invoke those with a death sentence. ”
Everything was against me. Especially time. It was screwing with me again just in a different way.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you try to eat some more,” Mother said, glancing at my untouched plate.
Poor Sirril had prepared all my favorites, everything from cinnamon buns to chocolate cookies. They were the very same things my mother would make me. My appetite was just nonexistent.