Chapter 45
I collected her in my arms—the light in her eyes fading—and a sob rattled through me, her head bobbing against my chest as I cradled her. “Why? Why did you do this?”
“I—I am the rightful ruler of the Shroud. Not you. You—leave people behind. Left me behind. Your power,” she choked, “is wasted on you.”
“I didn’t mean to leave you! It was an accident, and I—”
“You were weak,” she croaked, struggling for air. “This realm deserves more than you can give!”
“I loved you so, so much, Lynn. I’m sorry I left you and your brother.
” I leaned in to kiss her brow, the once vicious fog in my palms now evaporated.
Her hand reared up to smack me, but had no strength left, so I held it instead.
The light in me trickled into her skin. “This isn’t you. I know it’s not!”
Blood seeped from the edges of her mouth. “I … never … loved … you.”
I pulled her in close. “Now that can’t be true. If you didn’t love me, then why did you do all this because of me? You were a child, Lynn. You had every right to be angry, to lash out. But this … you can’t honestly tell me the pain and destruction you caused was your goal?”
Something in her eyes changed then; a sparkle in the deep void.
I watched as the light in our clasped hands began to twist up her arms, visibly turning her veins to streams of golden sun.
The nearer it grew to her face, the harder her grasp on me tightened.
But not in anger, I realized as a smile began to spread across her cheeks.
“I … I know you,” she said in a hush, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. This … I—”
Tears threatened to choke me, but I pressed out, “Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay. I’m here.”
Her smile fell, replaced with worry. “Rasputin. You have to stop him! If you don’t, then Death—”
Her frame went rigid in my arms and shot up, a sulfuric perfume lifting into the air. She thrashed to rip her cloak from her chest, gasping.
“What? What is it?” I screamed, my own hands prying alongside her.
On her chest, where she finally managed to strip her cloak away, a stone lay embedded in her flesh, not too far removed from my own.
Only this one had a familiar sickening aura about it, the same crimson shade, cut from the same cloth—there was no doubt in my mind.
The final piece of the bloodstone, it’d never been her talisman.
It’d been … her.
Blinded by hate, she’d offered her own soul up as the final piece of the Shadow Rite. A sacrifice beyond understanding.
“No.” I heaved, rolling her face to look deep in her eyes. “What did you do? What deal did you make, Lynn? Tell me! I can help, I can—”
Gurgled moans were all she could force out …
until the tar. A waterfall of thick, black ooze began to dribble then pour from her mouth.
But still, in those last moments, the light in her eyes didn’t fade.
Nor her smile. One near-lifeless hand reached up, a single finger tracing along my jaw: a comfort no child should ever have to offer their mother.
She forced one final exhale and went still.
Her body hung heavy in my arms. I shook her. Willed light into her skin, tried to call her back, but she was gone. Gone, my daughter was … gone. I pulled the cloak over her face and leaned close. “I forgive you,” I whispered, and rocked her back and forth. “I am so sorry.”
Why—the only word on my lips. Repeated over and over and over again. The shame, the guilt, it overwhelmed me. Poured forth in gasps and tears. I’d killed my own daughter. Wielded magic I’d sworn I’d never touch, and I …
Envy snarled at the cell door, clomping about with impatience.
How long I’d sat there, I had no idea. But it was clear …
she wasn’t coming back, no matter how badly I wanted her to.
It was time to go, though I wouldn’t leave empty-handed.
Before I opened the door, I tossed the last coin in my possession straight out before me.
Envy dashed to snatch it, head perfectly positioned and—with a call to my magic—a sword presented itself in my right hand, hilt gleaming in the torchlight.
“Envy,” I called as I pushed the door open. The beast’s head snapped toward me.
With every last bit of newly discovered power, I thrust the blade through the air, severing the Lore’s head from its shoulders.
Its frame remained upright a moment too long, head thudding to the ground at my feet.
A step and I thrust my first into its chest, ripping Envy’s essence free.
I didn’t bother to wipe my hand as I stashed the stone in my pocket, simultaneously kicking the headless corpse to the side.
“Fuck you,” I seethed and spat at its feet.
I stood, brushed the bloodied hair from my daughter’s face, and lifted her into my arms, cradled her as I once did.
I didn’t know where I was or how I was going to get home, but I would.
Then I’d lay her to rest and return to find my soulmate.
Gods, let him be okay. The thought alone threatened to undo me, topple me to my knees.
When I pushed the door open, a demonic audience greeted me.
Lowly creatures lined the front yard of Malignant Manor—not a Lore to be seen.
This time, however, they didn’t attack. Instead, they parted, making room for me to walk through, fear in their eyes as they saw who exactly I carried in my arms. One by one, they backed away.
Light radiated from the entirety of my body as I stepped into those woods, Lynn still clutched to my chest. The Fright never sought me out.
The Wendigo never came forth. I walked a straight line, drawn out by some instinctual need to head south.
To the last place I knew Cillian had been.
A small part of me hoped I’d find him there; that the scream I’d heard bounce off those dungeon walls was merely a mind game meant to break me.
But I knew better. He hadn’t come for me.
If he’d had the means, the ability, he would have been there.
Fighting. Maybe he really was—I swallowed hard. No. He was alive.
He had to be.
For the first time, my transition was fluid.
Blackness never overtook me. My lungs didn’t labor.
Instead, a shimmering bridge spread out before me, suspended above a dark void.
Fear vacant in me, my feet graced the first step.
Then the second, until the glimmer from my skin blended with that of the bridge.
No space between where my magic ended and the Shroud’s began.
My newest magic rattled inside. The shadows thrashed against my internal walls, though my Ethereal glow anchored it. Forced it into submission. Fate’s voice flooded over me: Awaken.
And I had. All magics had found their way into my blood, bones, and teeth. I’d become something otherworldly. The old me would have shaken at the thought, thrown by the uncertainty of it all. But fear, it seemed, hadn’t a place in my life. Not anymore.
Grief and power had taken up residence in its place.
When I reached the bridge’s end, Fhírinne’s doors appeared to me down a tunnel drenched in candlelight.
The call to home sang. Pleaded for me to return.
Cillian. Celine. Roxie. Gia. Their love and embrace was all I craved.
Needed. I blew against the doors, elements following close behind, throwing them open.
Multiple eyes fell on me then. All except for those emerald orbs I’d desired to gaze into most. Celine was at my side in an instant.
“Fey, thank God—” Her words caught in her throat as she recognized what precious cargo I carried in my arms. “Is that … But it can’t be.”
She stepped aside as I drifted farther into the oasis.
I didn’t bother to respond, tears confirmation enough that the one I held in my arms was, in fact, her niece.
I locked eyes on my willow. On the plot of soil beneath and the cabinet behind that’d told me of my past lives.
About who I’d been and what future laid before me should I reincarnate again.
But nothing had prepared me for this devastation.
Careful not to rouse her—as if such a thing were possible when dealing with the dead—I laid Lynn on the grass.
Hands still soaked in light; I began to dig.
Slow at first, until I let the pain in. The more grief that rushed in, the more my hands thrashed deeper, scattering moist soil every which way.
Sobs tore up my throat, releasing noises I’d never heard myself make.
I owed Lynn this much, at the very least: to lay her to rest in a place she’d never be abandoned again, where I could visit her often. A scream escaped me.
I’d failed her. Time and again, in ways I’d never understand.
A gentle hand came to rest on my wrist and settled my frantic digging.
Roxie. Her golden eyes reflected my pain back at me, tears of her own falling into the dirt.
Then another hand, and another. Roxie, Gia, and Celine gathered me up, their bodies a wall around me.
And together, they shared in my mourning, words proving pointless.
When my cries quieted, they placed their hands in the soil, one after the other.
In synchronized motions, we created her resting place.
Magic swam all around us; cut through the quiet with intent.
The fountain sang its soothing melody. Willows danced in invisible wind.
When the grave bottomed out, giving way to tight stones entangled in root, I knew it was time.
My sister grabbed my face, looked me deep in the eye, and nodded once. Together, we lifted Lynn from the grass as a unit. As a family. I looked up at her as we made our way over.
“Cillian?”
She didn’t answer, and I knew my heart would crumble if she explained.
So, instead, we laid Lynn down, at peace below the willow.
It’s true what people say: The dead really do look as though they are asleep.
Her hands crossed gracefully across her chest, I beheld her for the last time.
With a snap, the elements handled the rest. Soil poured back in, filling the empty spaces and solidifying her permanent rest.
I stayed there, knees buried in the dirt, until the sunlight peeked through the solarium windows.
Then, I simply exhaled, stuck a finger into the loose soil, and set Lynn’s talisman in.
Here, it’d stay concealed. Whatever dark secrets and incantations it possessed, nullified by the hallowed earth around it.
Hidden away where no Lore could find it.
Safe. Far away from the nightmares it sought to unleash. It’s wielder, buried beneath.
Born of an unsound mind: returned to peace.
With that, I stood, everything in me roiling. Magic tearing at my veins as if it sought to be freed, to unleash itself.
“Fey,” Celine said in a hush and grabbed my elbow. “Where are you—”
Her eyes locked on my own, brows pinching together. She didn’t bother to finish her question. The answer sat hardened in my eyes. Where was I going? To burn. To slaughter. To rip apart the very fabric of the Shroud. I would find him.
And I’d burn the world if anyone dared stand in my way.
I fell from the heavens, crashing into the Shroud’s dry earth with clenched fists.
My head lifted slowly, and I assessed my surroundings.
Yes. I’d landed precisely where I’d demanded my magic take me, smack-dab in the middle of the battlefield Gia’s aura had concocted and the last place I’d known Cillian to be.
His cry ringing out against those dungeon walls prickled against my skull, sending shivers up my spine.
It was just a trick to get you to talk. He’s alive.
I’d search here first. Then, and only then, would I dare a step back in those cursed dungeon halls.
I hiked up a small embankment before me, the earth rattling under each footfall.
Pebbles and blades of grass reached out toward me as I passed, as if they held some magnetic charge and I was their perfect match.
My magic called to them, light and shadows dancing in aggressive tandem under my skin.
What I found when I reached the top was a sea of red.
Bodies, everywhere: charred, smashed, encased in ice.
A scene that screamed, Remember me? The battle I’d seen before I stumbled on Fate … this.
Here.
It’d happened in this very same spot, only this blood?
Fresh. Still warm as it lapped at my heels.
At the center, lowly nightmare crawled over lowly nightmare.
Their teeth gnashing, claws slicing. One over the other they toppled, fights among themselves ending in more bloodshed as they fought toward their goal.
But what were they after? What could possibly be worth all this?
That’s when I saw it, peeking out for a moment before the beasts descended again. A hand.
Cillian’s hand, palm up to the violet sky.
A shriek burst from my lips, clouds above snapping with sudden lightning. Down deep, the darkness sang to me. Set me free, it begged, and I will peel the flesh from their bones for you.
But my light took over before I could respond, a vortex of glittering crystal growing with each step.
The beasts before me reared their ugly heads, snarls turning to cries as they saw what awaited them.
A lunge and the light thrust from my grasp, hurling itself into the earth.
There it wiggled its way through the soil, stone and dirt and water coming to its aid.
They melted together, tearing a gapping trench in the earth directly around Cillian’s motionless body.
I reveled in the creatures panicked cries as they fell straight into the pits of hell I’d created for them.
Molten tar and burning acid: a death they’d more than earned.
With my path clear, I raced to Cillian’s side, falling to my knees.
My hands prodded and pressed. He didn’t move, chunks of flesh were torn from his arms and legs and chest and—a sob caught in my throat.
His heart. I could see his heart, right there, exposed between fractured ribs. And it … wasn’t beating.
“No,” I snarled, silent tears running down my face. “No!”
I called to my magic to save him, to lend me the power.
Electricity zapped to life in my hands and I pressed against his chest, hot crimson staining my fingertips.
One shock, two shocks, three. Knees sliding back, I studied his heart.
Nothing. Not even a pump. “Shit! Cillian, don’t do this! Stay with me!”
One shock, two shocks, three. Nothing.
Again.
And again.
My teeth ground together, threatening to crack.
This wasn’t how this ended. It couldn’t be!
Body shaking like a leaf, I crumbled onto his chest. The stillness, the quiet, it destroyed me.
Life without him … the thought alone sent my lungs into overdrive.
There’d be no breathing through this. No calming myself.
My heart … my love … was gone.