Chapter 26
Seven years ago
Night of Emethye
My heart hurts; I’ve been running for so long. Vendra has stayed close to me, but my body is too tired to sustain this.
The moment my knees begin to buckle, vines sweep around my hips, holding me upright. My feet keep striking the cobblestone path, but now Thornwyn is beside me, his steps matching mine. When I look up, he lowers his head without hesitation, and I grasp the roots along his shoulder for balance.
Sylverton is just through the tunnel carved into one of the surrounding mountains, but I fear I’m already too late. The sharp, poisonous floral and bitter-earth scent of spell mixing burns the back of my throat. They’re actually going through with it, despite everything I warned them about.
As soon as we move under the mountain’s shelter, it’s like a switch flips. The silver glow of the night sky disappears, replaced by a street bathed entirely in violet light. My heart stutters and I push myself harder, pumping my arms as Thornwyn nudges me forward, pulling when my strength falters.
When we exit the tunnel, the slight curve opens up to the small town that refused every warning I gave.
I called days ago, and told them to evacuate.
I even came myself, just the day before last, begging them to see reason.
They’re the last of the nature-born—wingless for thousands of years now, but still tied to magic the way Witches are.
It’s why they’re being targeted.
Thornwyn sweeps me into his arms and leaps off the high cliff, shaving minutes off the winding descent to the canyon and the town below. His landing booms through the trees, splintering several in the vicinity. He sets me down, and I sprint toward the single road that leads in.
Three figures stand there, one holding an automatic rifle. The moment he notices me, whether by sound or sight, the gun rises, aimed directly at me.
I throw my hands up. “Please—”
“You again… You brought this upon us!”
It’s the town’s mayor. An old man who has clung desperately to the legacy of his people. They have always been targets, but when Mundane and Dylox law shifted toward coexistence, their persecution waned. For hundreds of years they faded into obscurity. A nearly forgotten race.
But obscurity doesn’t erase hatred.
Or history.
And he’s carried every wound his people endured like a stone on his back. I just wish he understood that I am not his enemy.
“Why are you and your people still here?!” I lift my hands, palms open, but I don’t stop moving toward him. “I… I can’t save everyone. I’m going to risk my life to stop her, but I can’t do that while you’re all still here! She’s coming for your people!”
He tuts, jutting his chin defiantly. “Vendra has forsaken us, and instead chose your kind to do her bidding.”
“You’re wrong!”
Static crackles through the air, sharp and violent, rattling the stones beneath my feet. Power—raw and furious—surges through me, straight from my God. I grit my teeth as the force rips through my lungs and bones.
“You know what they say about eyes of gold.” His voice drops, dripping with venom. “Annihilator of civilizations.”
My stomach turns.
I lift my gaze toward my companion. Thornwyn shifts, taking one heavy step toward the men, ready to protect me. Ready to kill if I command it.
My heart races… then slows.
Through the bond that connects us, I speak to him. “You must let me go.”
His head jerks down to me. “You have lost your mind.”
“It’s the only way. You know it to be true.”
“I will not. Vendra would not agree.”
“It doesn’t matter what she agrees to. This sacrifice will alter everything… Let me go.” I reach up and place my hand against his chest. “Let me go.”
“Amarah.”
Jerking my head back toward the three men, I shout, “Listen to me. Please, just listen! You have to end my life if you refuse to run!”
They stare at me like I’ve crawled straight out of an asylum.
“There isn’t enough time to explain. You hate me and my kind. End me here.”
“We can handle this, Witch. We won’t fall for your tricks! You’ll curse us with your dying breath!”
“No! That—you’re all fools!”
The force of her arrival crashes through the air like a shockwave, nearly driving me to my knees. I grit my teeth and refuse to bend. I will not show weakness. Not now.
“The only fool is Vendra for placing her trust in you and your people,” the mayor spits.
The man with the rifle flicks the safety off and raises the barrel, aiming down the sight right at my heart. “I do so wish I could—”
A crackle of power booms in the distance, and it startles the man, causing him to tap the trigger.
The shot snaps across the space between us.
I don’t move. I don’t flinch. If death will spare them, if it will stop the slaughter, I’m willing to take it. Falling here will bring me to my family. To be back with them for eternity in the afterlife.
Pain explodes across my face as I’m yanked violently backward. A sharp sting tears through the bridge of my nose, ripping a scream from my throat. My hand flies up instinctively, cupping the blood that spills hot and fast over my lips and down to the gray stone.
“You will not die for the sins of others,” a deep voice rumbles behind me. “You will fight.”
“Why would you do that?!” I choke, half in fury, half in disbelief.
“W-What is that…?” the mayor stammers. But it isn’t what. It’s who.
Thornwyn’s vines tighten around my waist, holding me upright and shielding me from the mortals on my right… and the far more dangerous presence approaching from my left.
“Well, well, well.”
My breath stutters as my world narrows.
I haven’t seen her—not truly—in so long. And yet it was just this morning that I stared into her face reflecting back at me.
“Always trying to get in the way of fate,” she purrs.
Present
“Amarah? Are… you okay?”
I blink rapidly, my eyes dry and aching. Squeezing them shut for a moment, I gather myself before finally looking ahead. A fire crackles a few feet from me, but it’s the soft glow of the rising sun that truly casts light over what’s in front of me.
Atlas, watching me with quiet empathy.
He lowers himself onto the log beside mine, fingers lacing together in his lap. “Can you hear me?”
I nod, swallowing hard.
I’d given Kayn the minute he asked for last night to shove Atlas back into his tent, and when I returned to camp, Kayn was gone. After changing, I stayed up tending the fire until morning crept in. I didn’t disturb Atlas for company; the forest, the dark, and the silence were exactly what I needed.
He must’ve come out at dawn… and who knows how long he’d been calling my name before I finally registered it.
I don’t see any signs of Kayn in the lush greenery surrounding us.
“He’s not back yet,” Atlas murmurs. He places a hand gently on my knee, and I jerk away on instinct. It’s not his fault. I just don’t like being touched…
Except by Kayn, apparently.
“Sorry,” Atlas says softly. “But will you look at me? Your face… I just want—”
I lift a hand to my forehead, fingers brushing the evidence of my past haunting me. A crack runs down to the edge of my brow. My nail drags along the crevasse—like I’m porcelain, and poking at it will prove whether I’m about to shatter.
“Don’t do that.” Atlas grabs my wrist, alarm tightening his voice. “What’s… happening?”
I sigh, closing my eyes and lowering my head. “Can I ask you something first?”
He slowly lets go, and I tuck both hands between my thighs to keep them still.
“Of course.”
“Why didn’t you tell Kayn about the scars?”
A low, uneasy laugh leaves him. “Because even back then, I could tell he cared for you—in some way. And I worried what he’d do if he saw them.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek and curl in on myself, wishing I could simply fold small enough to disappear.
“I didn’t mean to disrespect you last night—or, well, this morning.”
I lift my gaze without raising my head. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you walk off, so I followed. Just to make sure—”
“I wouldn’t run,” I finish for him.
“No,” he says quickly. “No, Amarah. I wanted to make sure you were okay. To watch out for you.”
Gods… every inch of my body warms at that. I never really had friends. I stayed with my people, my family. Those who understood what I was.
Now here’s Atlas being a friend to me when I fear I don’t deserve that for how I’ve treated him.
“I saw you starting to get undressed,” he continues, rubbing the back of his neck, “and I told Kayn.”
“Why?”
He exhales slowly. “Sometimes people just need a little push. And it was about time he saw you.”
“He sees me every day, Atlas.”
His smile is sad. “Only what you let him, and me, see.”
Silence stretches between us. I use it to listen for footsteps, for the faintest shift of branches or brush. I don’t have supernatural hearing, but I wish I did—just to confirm whether Kayn is close.
Because as sweet as Atlas’s gesture is, as much as it means to me…
It’s Kayn who can protect me.
It’s him that makes me feel safe.
It’s only him that I want that from. Anything from.
“The crack,” I say quietly, touching my forehead, “is part of the hex. It comes and goes. I’ve noticed thinking about my trauma brings it out. Like I’m literally fracturing. A physical reaction to my mental state breaking apart.”
I lean back, giving him a half-hearted smile.
“They say Nocthariel is the worst hex. Not because it harms us directly, but because it strips us of the protections we need to survive an immortal life. It keeps me from dying of old age, but I still sustain every injury—and I keep the evidence of them. I also can’t seem to heal my mind.
Not really. I couldn’t even shave my legs because I… fear razors.”
“Oh, Amarah, I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“No need to be sorry.” I take a deep breath, wrapping my arms around my waist as if I can hold myself together.
“The expectation for those cursed by Nocthariel is that we’ll eventually lose our minds.
That one day we’ll… shatter. End up in a facility for the violently insane, locked in a padded cell, suffering until we finally break apart. ”
Atlas’s expression twists with a pain so sharp it feels like it punctures straight through my stomach.
“Have you told Kayn?”
I shake my head.
He hesitates before asking softly, “Then why tell me?”
“Because I know you won’t tell him. You’ll let me do it. And… I trust you.”
“And you don’t trust him?”
“No—I do. I do…” My throat tightens. I just don’t want him to try to save me when I already know I’m a lost cause. “I’m just not sure I can handle his reaction right now.”
Atlas huffs out a laugh. “Fair point. He was mad at me when you fell asleep in my lap. Like I had any control over where you put yourself.”
Heat flares across my cheeks and races down my neck, sinking into the oversized sweater I’m regretting right now.
We fall quiet after that. The fire crackles, the morning birds start to wake, and time moves slow enough to hurt.
Then Kayn walks into camp.
He has no animal with him—nothing caught, nothing hunted—but his hands are covered in enough blood to tell me he didn’t go out for a simple walk.
His eyes narrow at Atlas sitting beside me, but after a beat, they shift to me.
“Morning.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Morning.”
Atlas waves a hand. “Good morning. Where’s breakfast?”
Kayn drops onto the log across from us with a heavy sigh. “We’ll eat when we leave.”
“Right… so what’s the plan?”
He doesn’t look at Atlas. Doesn’t even glance back his way. His stare locks squarely onto me.
Now that I understand what I must do… our road trip is coming to an end.
“We’re going to Demour.”
“What?!” Atlas practically shrieks. “The border, right? Not actually into Demour.”
I groan and give him an apologetic look. “Vendra’s warrior says the closer I am to Old Hearth, the easier it’ll be to connect with the Beyond. I’ll be able to cast the spell and open it. Then I’ll protect Kayn as we both cross the gates. My only concern is—”
“You… are coming with me?”
“I—” The intensity in his stare twists my stomach into knots. “Let’s talk about that later. As long as the hex allows it, I’ll cross realms to keep you protected. We can figure out the details when we get there.”
Atlas clears his throat. “I’m… Mundane, Amarah.” His voice is resigned. When I turn to him, he looks genuinely defeated. “The Ashspyte. It’ll kill me.”
I completely forgot about that. Well—not forgot.
I just… didn’t think about it. Selfishly, I focused on Kayn only and not on the very Mundane man sitting beside me.
The Vampire being as old as he is should be fine.
Atlas? He’d survive maybe a day without the right gear, and we still have to cross all of Demour to get to the far eastern side.
It’s dangerous and selfish of us, but he has been eager for everything else we’ve done.
“There’s equipment we can get for you—”
“Then just Amarah and I will go.” Kayn cuts in.
I inhale at the wrong moment and nearly choke on air.
“Uh, no,” Atlas snaps. “I’m pretty sure you two will actually kill each other without me as the buffer.”
I’m still trying to catch my breath. Gods, I may actually suffocate.
“I’m not going to kill her,” he mutters while shrugging his shoulders. “And she can try again if she’d like.”
“Again?” Atlas looks even more horrified.
I finally manage to pull in a breath that isn’t half saliva, half panic, but I’m still struggling.
Oh, no. This is the last thing I want. We cannot be alone. How in the Beyond am I supposed to avoid him if we’re stuck together for—
Oh, Gods.
That’s a twelve-day drive.
Twelve days.
Alone.
With Kayn.
Oh, no. No, no, no—
“Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.”
My head snaps up, and Kayn is standing over me, a shadow blotting out everything else. “You alright, little slayer? Choking on something?”
Atlas jumps in, “Do you need water?”
I open my mouth to respond but Kayn cuts me off. “That’s probably not a bad idea. There’s a stream just north. Would you be so kind, Atlas?”
And just like that, his friend is jogging away, and I am doomed.
Kayn sinks to a crouch between my knees, and the earth tilts under me.
“You look tired,” he murmurs, reaching toward my face.
I forget how to breathe.
His thumb brushes the crack that splits down my forehead, feather-light but still managing to send a tremor through me.
“I’ve had a lot of quiet time to think about all the questions I have for you,” he says, voice low and threaded with something devastating. “And it seems Vendra favors me. Now, I’ll have plenty of time to get answers.”
I’m going to pass out.
“She doesn’t,” I whisper. “She’s obviously punishing me.”
His hands come down on my thighs—firm, guiding—spreading my knees apart just enough to make my pulse detonate. He’s respectful enough to tug my skirt into place between my legs, but that does very little to help the situation.
He leans in, close enough for his breath to ghost across my mouth.
“And, Amarah?”
I press my lips together tightly.
“Stop thinking,” he growls. “You’re a fucking lost cause.”