Chapter 75 #2
“Hurry up, Adelevik. Do you want to die inside these walls?”
Something in those harsh words snapped her back to her surroundings.
She picked up the bags and followed her mother to the train station.
Lana clung to the hem of her blouse, terrified, but Adele couldn’t do anything about it—she could barely control her own feelings.
She only knew she needed to return to Yonser.
Her home. Far from the walls that radiated cursed memories.
It’s over, she repeated to herself as she climbed the first step of the train, then the second, then the last. She sat down on the bench, soaking wet. Numb, she watched the elementally powered train pull away.
It’s over. She looked at the city through the window, her posture rigid like a cold, frozen queen.
At that moment, the sun rose behind the mountains, casting orange rays into her eyes.
Tears fell as the train crossed the last wall and left behind the trees and colorful mountains of Interion.
The girl watched the wall recede for a long time, and when it was nothing more than an orange dot on the horizon, she took a deep breath. She turned forward, toward her future.
It’s over, she repeated like a mantra throughout the journey, which took three days.
Soon the colorful trees gave way to tall pines, then to dry, twisted trees that stood stark against the horizon, where a chain of black volcanoes spewed toxic smoke.
Then, further ahead, the black of the volcanoes gave way to the blue of a vast frozen river.
Adele watched with rapt attention as black and blue became a white, inhospitable desert.
And when the train rounded the last curve, opening up to the grand white wall of Yonser, the girl took a deep breath and smiled, her eyes full of tears.
It’s over.
Δ
Breno woke to the jostling of being carried.
His head throbbed, and his eyes were so heavy he couldn’t open them.
But from the faint light seeping through his eyelids, he knew it was already morning.
His face was pressed against something rough and foul-smelling, and his entire body ached.
He heard growls and voices around him. Everything was echo and vibration.
He forced his eyes open, and the first thing he saw was a woman dressed in black.
For a second, he imagined he had died and the goddess of Death had come to fetch him.
But when he looked more closely, he realized he was mistaken.
The woman was mounted on an enormous beast, just like the ones that had attacked him, and she wore a dress made of chains. An army of creatures surrounded her—perhaps more than two hundred. He couldn't see much farther. They moved through the forest, encircling the perimeter.
The second thing he noticed was Dominic chained to the back of an animal.
He was unconscious, his arms and legs dangling from the beast's flanks.
Breno realized he was in the same position, and the stench came from the disgusting hide of the animal carrying him.
He looked more carefully and saw a third man being led, his body covered in blood, cuts, and bruises.
Definitely more dead than alive. He knew it was Yugo, the great blocker who maintained the barrier—the one they'd given up for dead. A half-truth.
He tried to move, but he was immobilized. The only thing he managed was to draw the attention of the woman in black, who heard the clinking of his chains. She turned and examined him from head to toe. Her eyes were green, and her rigid face radiated cruelty.
He knew he was being taken somewhere, but where? What did they want with him? What did they want with Dominic? If the goal was to destroy Interion's blocking power, why not just kill them?
He didn't have time to speak—the stranger gestured to someone else, and Breno heard footsteps approaching.
Kaori appeared in his field of vision, and then he remembered everything that had happened.
He thrashed on the beast and shouted, releasing a spark of the hatred burning inside him.
But soon the serpents were on his skin and the venom spread through his bloodstream.
Even filled with scalding fury, the boy forced himself to close his eyes so he wouldn't freeze with them open again.
The last thing he saw, before paralysis claimed him, was the cursed queen's cruel smile.
Δ
Kyller and Zion stood in the shade of three red maples, at the edge of the small Dornéu forest. Around them, the five-pointed reddish leaves formed a damp carpet on which his partner knelt.
She offered a silent prayer, her hand extended over the disturbed earth where Zion had buried Serguei hours before.
In the branches of the blood-colored tree, birds sang while the ex-general kept his gaze fixed on the girl shedding tears over the soil.
Earlier, when he had approached the bed with his wounded body and eyes swollen from grief and pain, the tears Kyller shed as she curled against his chest were enough for him to understand that behind the incandescent irises, she was still the same. And somehow, she knew what had happened.
Serguei had died—an unquestionable truth. Perhaps the whole world had felt it.
During the few minutes he allowed himself to hold her against his chest, Zion summarized what had happened, from the events of the test to the moment when the devourer brought down the wall and the psychic faced an entire legion of monsters.
However, he couldn't bring himself to tell her about the events that ended the battle, and faced with his reluctance, she simply nodded—it wasn't necessary to say anything.
The ex-general swallowed hard, the bitter taste of defeat on his tongue, then changed the subject, focusing on urgent matters.
He explained that they needed to eat and leave Interion, because every second they spent there was dangerous.
They ate eggs and apples on the bed for lunch, because Zion could never bring himself to face the wooden table downstairs.
Afterward, they dressed in the Night Squadron uniforms that had belonged to Serguei and Ravena, since they were the only clothes available in the house.
The uniforms consisted of wine-colored pants and a shirt made of durable material, with a black vest worn over them, the chest crisscrossed with leather straps.
During those moments, Zion watched her. He waited for her to speak and analyzed her every action, looking for changes, but aside from the fact that she couldn't move her left arm, her healing powers were still dormant, and her eyes had red halos, the rest seemed normal.
Or at least that's what he wanted to believe.
When he was fitting the travel backpacks onto their backs, he heard his partner's first words.
“Where is Kiara?” Her voice came out hoarse—it sounded as painful as shards of glass scraping her throat. But it was still her voice, and Zion breathed a sigh of relief.
He explained about the surgery and the mutation.
The chimera couldn't travel with them—she was weak and unstable.
When silent tears overflowed from his partner's eyes, Zion assured her that Kiara would be well cared for by Owen, and they would both return for her when things were better.
He thought for a moment and, in the end, didn't have the courage to tell her about the uncertainties of the mutation.
She was already facing so much; Zion was afraid that any more information would be the last straw.
Kyller choked back her tears and remained silent while she improvised a fabric sling for her unresponsive arm. Finally, she asked:
“Could I say goodbye to Serguei before we leave?”
“Of course.” He stepped closer and pulled her against his chest. “I need to say goodbye too.”
Now they stood beneath the maples, and although this put them at risk, Zion would never forgive himself if he didn't give his partner—and himself—this moment.
The anesthetics and painkillers had worn off, but he remained standing, pretending he wasn't dying of pain.
He kept his hand on the hilt of the bone sword at his waist. His father's sword.
For the first few minutes, he gave Kyller privacy to say goodbye alone.
Then he turned his gaze to the open sky, without a single white cloud.
When pain crept toward the edges of his heart, Zion lowered his eyes to the earth, unable to contemplate the clear blue.
Soon he found himself studying the path of ashes that would lead them toward the destroyed wall.
He was grateful the opening existed, because now he couldn't transport them through the walls.