Chapter 60 From the Ashes
FROM THE ASHES
ELYRIA
Elyria’s wings flared behind her as she soared back toward the tower. It had been ripped open, and she could see nothing but the flare of light and the swirl of darkness battling within. Could feel nothing but that tug in her chest, calling her back to him.
And then, with the brilliance of a hundred suns, the sight so bright that Elyria had to avert her eyes, it was over.
No more sun. No more shadow.
Elyria’s eyes locked with Cedric’s as her feet touched stone again. Stone that was no longer bloodied. No longer littered with the bodies of the cultists Malchior had happily sacrificed.
It was as though Cedric’s power had washed the entire space clean.
The only body that remained was that of the dark sorcerer himself. His face was unmarred, his eyes closed, though the scent of charred flesh from beneath his still-smoldering robes had Elyria wrinkling her nose.
She approached Cedric slowly, that ring of gold embedded in his warm brown irises seemed wider—gilded, glinting.
Burning.
He looked shocked. The impact of the final truths revealed, of what Cedric had just done, was still emblazoned on his handsome face. The longer they stared at one another, the closer she got, the more his expression softened, relief peeking through the haze of devastation.
Cedric turned as Elyria came up beside him, Ashrender dropping from his grip. Her hand was there to replace it, lithe fingers wrapping around his as she drew him across the room, farther from the body. Making it so Cedric would no longer have to look at the man who had cost him everything.
“It’s done,” she said quietly, her voice piercing through the silence. Vaguely, she could hear distant shouts of alarm, could hear footsteps racing up the tower stairs.
The fingers of her other hand went to Cedric’s pocket, searching until she found it—until she felt it. She pulled out the locket, hanging heavy on its golden chain, and placed it in his palm, unlinking their hands.
His fingers closed around it, his eyes wide, a soft kind of surprise banishing whatever guilt or shock might have remained. Perhaps it was because he, too, felt the power emanating from it. Or maybe it was simply due to him finally reuniting with this piece of his mother—this part of his heritage.
Something that had belonged to him all along.
“You’re all right?” he asked.
She nodded, and Cedric released a long, slow breath. Then his other palm was on her cheek, his fingers twisting a loose piece of her hair. She leaned into his hand for a few moments before peeling back, taking in the slight furrow of his brow, the part of his lips.
“Did we actually do it?” he said, fathomless wonder behind the words. “Did we . . . stop him?”
She smiled. “You stopped him,” she said, delicately pinching the locket’s chain between her fingers.
She stretched her arms over his shoulders to fasten it around his neck, removing his token as she did.
“I think it’s safe to say you really don’t need this anymore, right?
” she asked, slipping the stone into her pocket.
Cedric shook his head, and despite the weight of what just happened, delight zipped up Elyria’s spine when his hands moved to her waist. He gripped her tight, pulling her to him, like he needed to feel her under his palms.
Like she was the very thing tethering him to the present.
“What do we do now?” he breathed against her ear, eliciting a shiver. She clasped her arms around him, sidling closer.
“ ‘We’ as in, you and me? Or ‘we’ as in, the whole stars-damned continent?”
He chuckled, and she felt the movement of his chest in her own. “First one, then the other?” he suggested.
“I have some ideas for both.” She grazed his lips with her own, the barest hint of a kiss, before her smile fell. “Though as much as I’d love to focus on the former, the latter seems slightly more important.”
He pulled back with a reluctant sigh, his hands remaining at her waist. “Since when are you the voice of reason?”
It was her turn to laugh now, and he lit up at the sound. “Stranger things have happened.”
“That they have.” His voice was serious, low, something like a promise laced between the words.
The back of her throat prickled when their eyes met once more. She swallowed. “At any rate, once we figure out how to reunite this”—she inclined her chin at the locket—“with the crown half Nox is guarding, and once we seal the Chasms for good—”
“Once you seal the Chasms,” Cedric said.
“—then we’ll have plenty of time for other things.” She pursed her lips. “I suppose we’ll have to head back to Elderglade, get Larkess to unweave her magic.”
“I suppose so.”
“I can’t say I’m thrilled at the prospect of seeing Zephyr again, but at least she’ll have to be relieved to hear the news.”
“The sanctuary is safe,” Cedric murmured, though the edges of his mouth turned down a moment later. “Do you think it will need to stay hidden forever? Think there is a true possibility that you and I, that we could . . .”
She heard the things he didn’t say, like he was scared to speak them into existence.
Elyria drew a finger down his forehead, smoothing the crease between his brows. “We will figure it out. Now that Malchior is gone, we have time to—”
“Ellie!”
“Ric!”
Kit, Tenny, and Nox burst through the door to the tower.
With a flare of her wings, Kit leapt ahead of the other two, skidding to a stop in front of Cedric and Elyria, her chest heaving. “Are you all right?” she asked between gasped breaths.
“We’re alive,” replied Elyria.
Nox smoothed the lapels of their jacket as they surveyed the scene before them. “I am relieved to see that is the case,” they said evenly, no emotion or inflection in their tone.
Elyria snorted a breathy laugh. Kit thwacked the nocterrian’s arm.
But Cedric wasn’t looking at any of them. Wasn’t looking at Nox, or Kit, or Elyria.
His eyes were wide, a dozen emotions flitting down the bond as Tenny rushed over.
“Ric, I’m so glad you’re—” She gasped. Dropped to her knees. Let out a small, broken sound.
And Elyria could’ve sworn she heard Tenny’s heart breaking as she took in the sight of her father’s body, charred and unmoving, splayed out on the other side of the room.
“Tenny.” Cedric’s voice cracked as he dropped to the floor beside her, one arm braced around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”
“He had no choice,” Elyria said softly, joining them. “Your father was going to kill Cedric.”
Tears rolled down Tenny’s cheeks. “I should be relieved too, right? What should matter is that you’re safe, that he didn’t get to do what he intended.
That he wasn’t able to summon Malakar’s power, wasn’t able to sacrifice you to his warped cause.
” She looped her arm across her chest, gripping the back of Cedric’s hand.
“But even knowing who he really was, knowing all the awful, horrible things he did . . .” She shook her head.
“You are allowed to grieve him, Tenny.” Elyria took Tenny’s other hand in hers, then looked at Cedric. “You both are.”
The silence that settled over them all was so heavy, it might have crushed someone less strong. But after a few moments, Tenny swallowed, releasing both Cedric’s and Elyria’s hands to wipe at her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice shaky. “All of you, for coming for me, for stopping him, for—”
She cut herself off, her eyes widening, her body stiffening as she continued staring at her father’s body. And then her mouth was moving again, forming words that Elyria could not hear.
Like a veil had dropped over her, like her shadows had surged in her ears and were blocking out the sound, Elyria couldn’t make out a single word.
She didn’t need to.
Not as she turned, following the line of Tenny’s sight.
Elyria’s gaze dropped to the shadows that were suddenly gathering around Malchior’s body, a dark mist that swirled over him, wrapping him in night.
For a few seconds, it was as though there was no body anymore.
As if his very form had disintegrated into shadow.
But then those shadows were reforming, reshaping. Making something new.
Something . . . else.
Cedric, too, had turned, a dangerous shock overtaking the grief on his face. His hand immediately went to his hip, searching for Ashrender, which still lay discarded on the floor near the swirling mass of shadows. Shadows that were—
It all happened so fast.
With a jolt, Elyria pushed Cedric and Tenny behind her with such force, they were sent sprawling backward, crashing into Nox and Kit. She launched to her feet, wisps of shadow dancing in one palm, a tremor rocking through the very foundations of the tower at the behest of the other.
Cedric shouted her name, but Elyria was already darting forward with a flap of her wings to meet the mass of darkness, to keep it from getting any closer to them.
“What issss thisssss,” it said, voice slithering over Elyria’s skin like a dozen harsh whispers, snakes that she could feel crawling over her. Searching.
The darkness was just shy of solid now, having taken the form of legs, arms, a long torso. It was taller, broader, more imposing than Malchior had been in life, tendrils of power curling off him like wicked smoke and masking any facial features that might have formed.
It didn’t stop the shudder that ran through her as eyes she could not see pierced her.
The dark figure raised a shadow-swarmed hand, a single finger outstretched, pointing in accusation. “You have something that belongs to me,” it—he?—hissed.
Elyria broadened her stance and floated closer to the ground as if she might mask Cedric from view.
Her thoughts raced as she heard him rushing up behind her, the need to keep the locket—the crown—from this twisted perversion of Malchior blaring in her head, yes, but it was nearly drowned beneath the deafening, overwhelming need to protect him—to keep Cedric back, to keep him safe.
He was hers, and Varyth Malchior would never touch him again.