CHAPTER NINE
The bells from the Eye’s temple rang out over the village like a threat. Sharp and hollow, like they were trying to split the sky open.
I hated the sound. Not just because of what it meant, but because of what it used to mean. Bells used to be for weddings, for festivals or for the first day of snow.
Now, they were warnings, commands. The Eredian had taken the old courthouse, whitewashed the stone, bolted black doors into place, and draped banners with the Eye over the arched windows. It used to be a place where people argued over taxes. Now, no one argued at all.
The Eredian were effective, at least. It took them less than two weeks to make the home I’d grown up in feel foreign.
Einar walked beside me in silence, his shoulder brushing mine every few steps. He still insisted on walking me everywhere, especially now that the Eredian were pulling people off the streets like it was nothing.
I didn’t argue. I’d grown used to always having him by my side.
I didn’t argue. I’d grown used to always having him by my side.
The sun was already high, heat pressing down like on us, and as we turned onto the square, I saw some younger girls from school, heading toward the temple. Pale ribbons in their hair, Silver Eye pins catching the sunlight.
They slowed when they saw us.
“Kera!” one of the girls called. Hana. Her braid bounced against her shoulder as she hurried closer. She looked excited, almost giddy.
“You should come with us!”
I blinked. “Where to?”
“The temple,” she said. “There’s a blessing today.”
“A blessing?” I stared at her. Hana, who drank through every party and skipped more classes than she showed up to. The same girl Eryx claimed had been throwing herself at him, though I’d never seen it myself.
“Since when do you care about blessings?”
“Since they said we’ll burn for eternity if we don’t,” she whispered.
I felt something twist in my gut.
“You don’t actually believe that?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But… what if it’s true?”
A girl behind her chimed in with too much cheer. “They said the old gods were demons. But it’s not too late to repent! Even for you.”
Even for me.
I stared at her scarf, at her polished shoes, and it hit me. Those hadn’t only believed whatever the Eredian told them. They were spreading it.
“You’re just scared,” I said.
She blinked hard, as if the words had caught her off guard. “Aren’t you?”
“I am,” I said. “But not of the gods.”
Einar touched my elbow, a gentle nudge. “Come on.”
We turned the corner by the butcher. The street was deserted. It was still the quickest way home, though it didn’t feel the same. We used to take the alley, cross the bridge over Red Creek, then the valley, and we’d be home.
As we neared the alley, we heard a commotion. A fight.
No. Not a fight. An ambush.
We should have turned back.
But Einar wasn’t the type to change his mind.
Or maybe he recognized the voice — someone begging the attackers to stop — because he was already running toward the noise before I could stop him.
It was Isak.
Einar wasn’t going to let it go. Maybe he would have, if it were someone else. Maybe he would have seen the risk, and thought that bringing me home safe was more important.
But it wasn’t, it was Isak.
I remembered the night I realized they were more than friends. I couldn’t sleep. The room felt wrong, the air too heavy, too still. I tossed and turned until I gave up and went to the window. Moonlight poured over the yard, draping everything in silver.
And that’s when I saw them.
Two figures stood by the fence. Still. Facing each other.
Einar. And Isak.
Einar said something I couldn’t hear. Isak replied, sharp and fast, and Einar jerked back like he’d been struck. A moment later, he pulled something from his coat and hurled it into the bushes.
Neither of them spoke after that. Isak turned and walked away.
Einar stayed a while longer, then left too.
I didn’t know what it meant, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
So the next morning, when no one was looking, I went to the fence.
The tall grass brushed against my legs as I crouched down and searched.
I didn’t even know what I was looking for.
Until I found it. A small wooden heart, pale and worn, one edge scraped dark with dirt. There was writing on it, tiny and carved by hand.
Always yours - I.
I went still.
It was from Isak. And Einar had kept it.
I didn’t say anything to anyone, but the truth sank in quietly, like something I’d always known. They loved each other. Maybe not now. Maybe not anymore. But they did once, enough to carve it into wood. And now three soldiers were attacking him in that alley.
I still ask myself why. Why they couldn’t just have left him alone. His nose was bleeding, and he was on his knees, slumped forward, and gasping. His shirt hung open, ripped down the side. Blood soaked the collar, staining it a deep, ugly brown. His arms were pulled behind him, wrists pinned.
By… Aran.
I couldn’t believe it. It didn’t feel real.
Aran stood behind Isak, gripping both arms like reins. Black and silver. The armor of the Eye. Hard edges, red trim. His helmet hung at his hip. Sweat matted his hair to his forehead. Blood stained his sleeve. I didn’t know whose. His face was unreadable. Cold. As if he wasn’t even there.
It felt like a nightmare. My mind couldn’t take it in—Aran, dressed like them.
“He touched me,” one of the soldiers snapped. His neck was thick, his nose broken too many times. “Sick little shit grabbed me.”
A bald soldier stepped forward, his scalp gleaming with a jagged scar. He sneered. “Filthy bugger. On his knees like he wants it.”
Crack.
A fist slammed into Isak’s jaw. His head snapped sideways, blood splattering the stones.
Thud.
A kick to the ribs. He coughed, curled, tried to fall—but Aran wrenched him upright again.
“Say something,” one of them growled. “Go on. Beg.”
Isak whimpered. Another blow split his lip wider.
“GET OFF HIM!” Einar roared. He slammed into the bald soldier, driving him back into the wall.
Aran blinked at him. Said nothing.
“You’re really just gonna stand there?” Einar shouted, his voice shaking with fury.
Aran looked at me. Then at him.
“Walk away,” he hissed.
The bald soldier snarled and lunged, slamming into Einar from the side.
They hit the ground hard, grappling. Another soldier rushed in, seizing Einar’s arm, but Einar twisted free and drove his fist into his face. The man crumpled with a grunt.
The thick-necked one raised his rifle and swung it like a club. The stock cracked against the back of Einar’s head. He dropped to his knees, groaning, blood running down his temple.
Still, he staggered back up.
Still, he fought.
I surged forward.
“STOP!”
But hands caught me from behind, strong arms locking around my waist, pinning me in place.
“LET ME GO—!”
“Kera.” The voice came low by my ear, cold and steady. Too close. “Stop.”
Arche.
The soldier from the bakery.
Holding me back.
I thrashed, nails raking down his arms. He didn’t strike me, didn’t join the beating, just kept his grip locked around my arms, steel and restraint. Einar was back on his feet. Barely. He staggered, blood in his hair, and looked over his shoulder.
Right at me.
Then—
A sound.
Loud and sharp, like lightning splitting the sky.
Einar’s body jolted. His mouth opened. He blinked—and fell.
Collapsed, like someone had pulled the bones out of him.
A high-pitched ringing filled my skull, drowning out everything. Blood spread across his chest, blooming too fast. Far too fast.
Isak screamed.
“No—no—please—”
He crawled through the dirt, dragging himself to Einar. His hands fisted in Einar’s shirt, shaking him.
One of the soldiers turned. “Shut him up.”
Another raised his rifle.
“NO!” I screamed, thrashing against Arche’s hold. “DON’T—PLEASE—!”
“They’ll kill you!” he roared in my ear.
I twisted harder, my heel slamming into his shin. He cursed, yanking me tighter against him.
My voice cracked.
“Einar—”
I couldn’t finish.
Isak pulled Einar close, blood soaking him as he pressed his face to Einar’s chest.
“Get up—please—don’t leave me—don’t—don’t—please—”
Einar coughed, choking on it. Blood spilled from his mouth. His head barely lifted, but his eyes found Isak.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped.
Isak shook his head violently. “No—no, I’m not leaving you—”
Then he looked up, eyes blazing at the bald soldier.
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” His voice cracked with fury. “WHAT IS WRO—”
CRACK.
The bullet ripped through his skull. Bone and blood sprayed the wall like rain.
His face was gone.
I don’t think I really understood what I was seeing. I’d never seen so much blood before.
I finally wrenched free of Arche’s grip and threw myself down beside him.
“No—please—don’t. I can fix this.”
His eyes fluttered, and blood bubbled at his lips. And then he looked at me.
“Run.” he rasped.
Then his head tipped forward.
“Einar?” My voice broke. “EINAR?”
I clutched his shirt, pressed my forehead to his, sobbing. He didn’t move again. Their blood spread together in the dirt, thick and dark.
I could fix it.
I had to.
I had saved Will. I could save my brother.
I didn’t care who saw. What they’d do to me if they knew.
Behind me, Arche was shouting—fighting—but I couldn’t hear the words.
None of it mattered.
I just needed more time.
I searched for it.
That spark. That thing inside me that had lit up the lake. The light I had felt burning through me.
But I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t feel it. Nothing happened. I tried again, harder this time, pressing deeper like I could force him to stay just by wanting it enough.
Like if I reached far enough inside myself, I would find the magic.
Still nothing. I pushed until my head throbbed and my chest seized, until the pressure behind my eyes made the world spin.
I kept going, even as my vision blurred, even when I couldn’t breathe.
"Please," I whispered. "Please, don’t leave me.”
It should have worked. I had power. I knew I did. I wasn’t imagining it.
Licia saw me glow.
But that didn’t change the fact that Einar didn’t move.
He just lay there.
Still.
Gone.
Then Arche was there again, his arms around my waist, dragging me back.
“Don’t touch her!” he barked, voice slicing through the noise. “Back the fuck off!”
The bald soldier came at me, hand outstretched, Arche stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body.
“Let me go—I can bring him back—I can still—”
“You can’t,” Arche snapped. “He’s gone.”
I shook my head. “No. No, he’s not—he’s not—”
But he dragged me back anyway. And I didn’t stop him. Because I couldn’t feel the magic. Couldn’t feel anything. Just Einar’s blood on my hands.
Arche kept his arm around me, and I let him.
Then he walked me home.
Or followed me. I don’t remember agreeing to it. I just moved. I just needed to get home.
The world slipped past in pieces—puddles reflecting the streetlamps, The blur of doorways, the wind rustling flags overhead. Blood clung to my hands. My sleeves. My skin.
I couldn’t stop seeing it.
Arche stayed beside me. I knew that much. He didn’t speak at first, or maybe he did.
His presence wasn’t comfort. It was gravity. Heavy. Unavoidable.
Eventually, I realized he was talking.
Maybe he’d been talking the whole time.
I only caught fragments—
Muffled, distant, like they were coming from underwater.
“…didn’t know they’d do it there…”
“…wasn’t supposed to happen like that…”
“…tried to get to you sooner…”
His voice was soft.
“…I’m not like them…”
I think he touched me then, my arm, maybe my back, I don’t know.
“Hey. You’re safe now… I’ve got you.”
I didn’t believe him. His voice kept going, low and steady, threading through the cracks in my thoughts.
“They’ll say your brother started it.”
“They’ll blame Isak.”
“That’s how it works.”
“You did nothing wrong.”
A lie. Or maybe the truth. I couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
“If they think you know too much, they’ll come for your family next.”
No.
“But I can help you.”
His hand brushed my hair, and I didn’t flinch. Didn’t move at all.
“Kera. Look at me.”
I lifted my head, but it felt too heavy, like something dragging me under. My gaze met his, barely.
“You don’t have to survive this alone,” he said. “I’ll get you out. All of you. Somewhere safe. Somewhere far.”
I shook my head. My face felt wet again. I hadn’t realized I was crying.
“It’s not too late,” he said. “But you have to trust me. Just a little.”
I didn’t answer. I don’t think I could. We walked the rest of the way in silence. Or he kept talking. Maybe I just stopped hearing him.
At my door, he grabbed my wrist.
“Meet me tomorrow,” he murmured. “After work. Behind the bakery.”
I said nothing. I didn’t pull away. Then he tucked my hair behind my ear with a gentleness that didn’t belong here.
Not after everything.
“You’re not safe here,” he whispered. “But I can take you somewhere safe.”
His eyes searched mine, then wandered to my lips. And for just a second, I thought he might kiss me.
His fingers crept along my cheek.
“Let me protect you.”
All I could think of was the dried blood on my hands.