90. ON THE CUSP #3
I didn’t know what had taken place on the battlefield earlier, but it must have been something significant, because Torin seemed like she was about ready to defy every divine law and strike her sister down.
Skadi barked a mocking laugh. “So, you decided that instead of fleeing with your beloved witches again, you would hunt me down? Regret must be weighing on you, Sister.”
Something shifted in the atmosphere nearby. A familiar presence . . .
“My Lady,” Eathril’s whisper floated toward me.
“Eathril?!”
“On your right.”
“What are you doing here?” I hissed under my breath.
“Redeeming myself. When the High Lord calls, I answer.”
“He’s injured.” I practically choked on the words. “There’s a poisoned blade lodged in his side. I need to get it out.”
He didn’t reply for a moment, and I almost thought he might have torn across the field in an attempt to remove the blade for me, but then his voice sounded again, closer this time, like he was leaning into my ear. “Leave that to him and me.”
Before I could respond, his presence dissipated, and then he was gone.
I shifted on my feet, nervously. What was he going to do? What if the goddess figured out he was here?
Skadi surveyed Niall like prey as she continued stalking a circle around him. “This time, there is nowhere for anyone to run. I will have what is mine, and so will Lyceius.”
Torin said something else, but it was lost to me.
I stared at my mate, frozen with fear and disbelief.
How had we gotten here? Had it really come to this? After everything we’d done . . . Was there no other way? I wanted to scream the questions to Karios and Delyth, who I imagined were lounging somewhere in their deified realm, watching as thousands died. Watching as Niall suffered.
We were supposed to be together, side by side. He wasn’t supposed to be wounded on the sideline, bleeding out, and succumbing to poison!
Just as my mind began spiraling into dread, Niall’s voice drifted into my head.
Auren, darling, do you remember what we talked about in the Elderwood?
Yes . . .
I’m going to do something, and I need you to trust me. I need you to do what we talked about.
What do you—
Then, in my mind’s eye, I saw it—a bundle of shadowfire had been gathered and placed at the base of the wall in my mind.
An offering.
It was small, no larger than the orbs that would float through the hallways of The Keep. It was all he had left. His body was fighting to stay alive, working overtime to combat the poison.
No, Niall. You said that was a last resort!
It’s going to take time for me to heal once this blade is out of me. Time that we don’t have.
He couldn’t use his power alongside me any longer.
But he could offer it to me.
I found his eyes again. I can’t—
You can, and you will.
What if you burn out?
I have just enough left.
What if—
Auren. The sound of his voice, the gentleness with which he said my name . . . Please. When I pull this blade free, use my power against Lyceius. Make it count.
From where he knelt, he smiled, even as Skadi’s shadows jerked his head back by his neck. His eyes never left mine.
My heart faltered then pounded again, my jaw quivered, and everything after that seemed to happen at once.
In my peripheral vision, I saw Silas move.
He pushed himself up onto a knee, lifting his sights to the goddess of shadows.
His body was trembling, but the wrath in his expression was unlike anything I’d ever seen.
Then, he vanished, only to reappear behind Skadi.
He seized her by the arms, hauling her backwards, away from Niall.
A pulse of shadowfire blasted out from my mate, obliterating Skadi’s shadows and freeing him from their restraints.
He fell forward onto his hands with a grunt, and yanked the blade from his side, but he didn’t drop it.
Instead, he flung it into the air, where it was intercepted by an invisible force—no, a being.
Eathril.
Silas strained to keep hold of the goddess as she thrashed against him, and when she summoned more shadows that whipped and struck at his skin, he was forced to let her go and fight them off.
The blade soared toward Skadi’s open and exposed chest as Eathril closed the distance to her, but her shadows sensed him not a moment too late. They abandoned Silas and went straight for the invisible entity.
The weapon halted, mid-air.
Eathril had been caught—by the throat, I presumed.
The shadows lifted him in front of the goddess, and her eyes widened in shock, as if she could see her general’s physical body before her. I could have sworn there was pain and hurt in her voice as she shook her head and said, “How?”
Eathril didn’t reply, he didn’t have time to. Because next to him, a swirling portal opened, and to all our surprise, Queen Corinne stepped forth from it, dagger in hand.
A shadow quickly slammed into the queen and snatched her wrist, wringing the weapon from her grip.
Skadi stepped up to her and searched her eyes. A hint of a smile crept across her lips. “You were so close.”
The queen didn’t say a word. She held Skadi’s stare. And when Eathril released his hold on the blade he still held above her, Corinne caught it with her free hand, and plunged it into Skadi’s heart.