Chapter 61
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
Meili Advetis, traveler of worlds. Distance and time walk a fine line.
—Lock Scroll, the Arx.
The Nivis royal met my gaze as her delicate fingers folded over the bone one by one. Her eyes drifted closed for a moment before she turned and strode toward the female slave standing at the edge of the hill.
“Selvina,” I said, my voice sounding far away. I stood, ready to fight for the bone of power resting in her hands.
She ignored me and surveyed the pile of bodies on the hillside, eyeing the humans and elves now stirring and whimpering. Ashen, no more.
“Selvina!” I shouted, allowing the weight of the wet dagger in my hand to steel me.
I needed the healing power in her hand. I needed it for my caeluma.
For my friends here, for the friends I’d left in Sultira.
My family. And I would kill for it. I slogged past Tiberius’s heaving form and stopped short as the slicing whine of a blade rang behind my head.
Something sharp slashed at my face and neck.
Olienna’s face contorted in wrath as she unsheathed Enya’s blade from my back and attacked.
I ducked, the tip of the blade painting a crimson stripe against my cheek.
Drips of blood pooled along the line as I leaped to the side, flipping Honor’s hilt in my hand.
She surged forward with the Bellator’s blade, crashing it down in the ashy slush.
I swept my leg behind her knees as she heaved the sword in my direction, shoving up with the butt of Honor and crashing it into her wrist. She screamed as the blade flew from her hands and slid along the edge of the hill.
Olienna spun through the air, the Aeterna Bone blessing her with the speed of her youth, and her boot crashed into my wrist. The golden gem in Honor’s hilt dimmed as it flew through the air.
She barreled into me, knocking me to the ground.
She straddled me in the blood and frigid mud, her nails digging into my skin as her hands found their way to my neck.
“Lyvia—” Astraeus groaned from where he lay nearby.
My hands grappled with hers, slipping against the blood.
My mind whirred, searching, searching for those lessons of defensive moves I’d learned from my friends, my family, this past year.
Bayne, Ronan, Nerissa, Vulcan… They had drilled them into me, but my mind grew fuzzy.
Panic broke through my carefully built-up wall.
My fingers slipped between her palm and my neck, but she was so strong…
“Hand… Your hand…”
Hand.
My hand.
My hands were the only things stopping her from squeezing the last breath from my lungs. I would die.
A gentle tug on the line of air that tethered us, like it was saying, I’m here... I’m with you… You’re not alone.
Kellan Astraeus.
But I couldn’t take my hands away.
A sound escaped my lips as she squeezed harder, and that tug of wind turned into a yank. A demand. Tunnel vision darkened my sight, and I pulled one hand away, the back of it hitting the snow.
That hard, calloused hand clasped onto mine. It was familiar. It was safe. It squeezed as a spark of raw power stormed into that chasm of magic, fueling the Obscura and Transcindiel.
And my powers reared in response.
I ripped my hand out of Kellan’s and clasped them around Olienna’s head.
Black mist and golden light collided. An iron-like mask of darkness formed around her head and face, quickly wrapping itself around her body, ripping her hands away from me.
She screamed, going rigid as the cage clanged to the ground.
Air filled my lungs in quiet chokes as I rolled to the side toward Kellan, his hand still outstretched toward me. His dark eyes stuttered under his lashes before gently closing as he let go of that small bit of air connecting us.
I stared at him for a moment, my emotions paralyzed despite my powers still streaming into Olienna’s cage.
His chest slowly rose and fell, and I reached a tentative hand to his cheek, the back of my fingers grazing his skin.
A yelp drew my attention to the slope of the hill, and I whipped my head toward Selvina.
The Nivis elf knelt in the snow, her hand hovering over the slave’s ankle.
My legs were heavy and foreign beneath me as I shoved against the ground, snatching Honor from the frozen slush.
Selvina murmured a few words beneath her breath, and blue, beautiful, crystal blue light sparked around her outstretched palm, settling on the slave’s foot.
Power brushed against my neck and my ankle, as if the healing that had occurred there was reminded of the touch of magic igniting across the field of blood.
A cool breeze picked up as the snow stopped falling, and evening streaks of resting sun peeked through the parting clouds. I blinked as she gripped the slave’s scarred hand and pulled her into an embrace.
Selvina’s manicured hands slipped around the woman’s pale face as she pressed her dark mouth to her lips.
She pulled away, reaching behind the woman’s neck, sliding a key into her thick collar, which dropped to the ground with a dull thud.
The slave looked up, as if finally noticing me, and a gasp escaped my lips.
Eira. The slave who had given her life for me during my time at the Crystal Castle, but not quite. I staggered a step back as crystal blue eyes found mine. Eira’s sister. And Selvina’s lover, it would seem. A moan from behind me drew me back.
“Selvina,” I snapped, and the royal elf finally turned toward me.
“Lyviánala Natara,” she said, clasping her hands together and bowing her head.
“Heal them,” I demanded, taking another step.
Selvina’s eyes scanned the bodies strewn across the valley as a wave of irritation drifted toward me. I stumbled back a step, glancing around.
Selvina snapped her gaze back to mine, noting my reaction.
“Now,” I said again, slamming my own emotions back into her. Obey.
She bared her teeth before cracking her neck and stepping forward. “I don’t take orders from you,” the elf said as she held her hands out.
Empty.
No bone. I didn’t need her to disrobe to know that an eight-pointed, luminous star gleamed on her chest. Selvina harnessed the Ramadiel power, and it now lived within her, marking her as a Bellator. Questions surged from the depths of my mind.
My powers continued to stream from my hand, keeping Olienna captive as I watched Selvina step toward the fallen. Glittering, crystal blue light lifted from her hands and settled on the pirate lord.
“I will need him if I am to heal the rest,” she murmured, and something tight in my chest loosened.
Kellan stirred as the healing, blue light surrounded him. He groaned as he got to his feet, his dark eyes flashing to me before landing on Selvina.
Help me, I wanted to say, but the words caught for some reason. My throat bobbed. His gaze softened on mine as he approached Selvina with an outstretched hand.
Selvina gasped as he sent a spark of power into her, eyes widening. She stretched her hand toward the valley, and light after light shot from her palm in waves of blue and white, each landing on a broken body.
Kellan swayed as the last of them settled on the bodies at the bottom of the hill, on Vulcan and those who had suffered as ashen. The slave woman rushed forward as Selvina collapsed, her hand ripping free from the pirate lord.
My mouth parted as I stared at Kellan Astraeus.
Lord of Marisarma.
Captain of the Hydra.
The Starling Sentry.
The Conduit.
All of those names, I thought, not sure who I was really looking at. His throat bobbed as he turned toward me, his lips parting.
“Lyv,” Bayne’s voice broke as he staggered to his feet.
I tore my gaze away from Kellan as Bayne rushed toward me.
Conflicting emotions swarmed as he reached for me.
His green eyes were wide as he took in the cage of darkness I spun around Olienna.
He snapped his gaze at Kellan, warning biting across his features.
Bayne reached for one of my outstretched hands, cutting off the power flowing into the cage, which disappeared.
Vulcan was at Olienna’s back with a blade to her neck before she could move.
Bayne’s bloody hands were on my face a moment later, and I felt myself jerk backward despite the wave of relief sweeping over me. Bayne’s brows narrowed.
“Lyv, you shouldn’t have…” he stuttered, shaking his head, unable to find the right words. His eyes continued to dart to the thick scar on my neck as if he didn’t yet believe it hadn’t ripped open, its healing undone. My head shook from side to side, my stomach dipping.
“You figured out what caused the deaths,” I continued for him, pulling back. “It’s why you didn’t want me to return to Lotrennia. Because of the Ramadiel poison.”
The corrupted power that Daimos sent into Lotrennia had slowly infected and killed its inhabitants, and had I been there, not knowing what it was… My hand reached for the scar on my neck. The thick, bulbous scar I would never be able to hide.
“I would have died,” I finished.
His dark head bobbed in confirmation.
“I couldn’t risk you returning. And I’m sorry. You…” He shook his head, tearing his eyes away as he dropped his chin to his chest.
“And I couldn’t be there for the marriage, the soulbinding,” I said, my heart steeling under the weight of his decisions. “I would have tried to stop you.”
Bayne’s lashes fluttered, yet a muscle in his jaw ticked as his lips drew a line.
“You needed the power,” I continued, turning my head and surveying him. “Needed the unity. But now that Dark King Daimos is dead… Bayne, I can undo it for you.” An unwavering determination slid into my words. “It could be dangerous, but—”
I paused as he looked up, pity and doubt flashing across his eyes for the briefest moment before they disappeared, replaced with a half-smile. But that pity… I wilted beneath that small part of Bayne that always seemed to find the naivety within me.
I swallowed the pain that came with it, pulling myself back to where we stood. I blinked and stepped away, scanning the valley of blood surrounding us in the evening light.
Carina had arrived, Kresida by her side, with Vander and a small group of bloodied, Rising soldiers bringing up the rear.
Nerissa knelt among the changed ashen, the gaunt elves and humans, either sitting in shock, staring out at nothing, or weeping, unsure where they were and why.
Tiberius’s wave of wariness washed over me, and I caught his gaze from a distance as it landed on the back of Bayne’s head. I heaved a breath before spotting Isla, still sitting on the ground, and I rushed toward her.
“Isla,” I croaked, my knees crashing to the gray mix of snow and ash.
Her amber eyes were dull, deep black shadows beneath them as she stared at the forest. I scanned her body. She’d been healed, but…
“Isla,” I said, gently this time, moving to put my arms around her.
She flinched at the touch, her wide eyes snapping to mine.
Fear.
And pain.
Of whatever memories reliving those injuries had brought forth. Whatever trauma she had endured for the second time. My stomach churned remembering the dark bruises that had formed on her neck and the blood. So much blood…
“Breathe,” I whispered. “You are safe. You are with friends.”
I repeated those words to her, the affirmations I needed to hear on the Evecta after surviving my own trauma. This would take time to heal. I scanned the rest of the valley, the rest of those healed, and noted the same haunted look in everyone’s faces.
“Their fleet has retreated to Nivis. They’re heading up the coast,” Kresida said, her gaze shooting toward the Lotrennian soldiers filtering in from the woods.
“Go to them,” I said.
She gave me a curt nod before trotting off.
Bayne stepped forward and clasped a hand on Carina’s shoulder. His eyes scanned her bloodied body, as if seeing her for the first time. His small, bookish cousin turned warrior.
“Sobraen,” he said, squeezing his hand and nodding his head. “Thank you.”
I paused mid-stride, staring at the two of them speaking quietly as I processed that word. Sobraen. An elven word. One I’d heard used twice before. Between Nerissa and Carina. And in my room at the Crystal Castle… With Eira…
“Good to see you in one piece, Bonder,” Vander said, pulling me into a bloody embrace.
“Van!” Aeriden cried as he stumbled down the hill.
Vander’s head whipped around, finding Aeriden’s bloodied smile from across the valley, mouth falling open in shock and disbelief.
“Aeriden?” he gasped, releasing me and stumbling toward my brother.
My lips slid into a soft smile as I looked at the bodies on the side of the hill. The ashen, cured, transformed back into their true nature. The Transcindiel’s hopeful song echoed between the rivers of darkness that lined my arms, moving freely, shining, and ready.