Chapter Thirty-Nine
“He will be outnumbered,” I rasp, watching the visualization of Anton’s codex—the current happenings.
Anton is being fitted in armor, preparing to leave Ansa.
Moments ago, a report came in: My father had his regiments—alongside ones from the Karithian Isles—already waiting on ships near the Razami coastline.
He sent word for them to invade at once.
“Even with the queen’s army, they won’t have a chance. ”
Not against the might of the Brisendali army. Their numbers alone are six times larger than those of any other nation within the Syndicate.
Everyone I have come to care for will be forced to kneel before my father—or perish. I cannot let that happen.
“The bloodshed will be vast,” Moranya says, nodding. “That’s why he left you here—in case the worst should happen.”
So many thoughts blow through the chaos of my mind, but one rings clear. “If Anton really agreed to help you once he returns, you should help him now.”
“There’s little I can do,” Moranya says. “He is in no danger himself, at least.”
Because she would simply deny his hand. Let him stay alive so he can locate the pendant and restore the mirror—only I’m the one who has it.
“Can’t you…I don’t know. Send the souls who die back to life? There must be some way—”
“I cannot. Such an act would drain too much power.”
“How can that be?” I argue. “What about when hundreds, or even thousands, die at once in a war? Do you not usher their souls into your lair?”
“Of course I do,” she says. “Kastiel’s power is dominion over life and death, but death is soft and easy. Souls are lightweight and slip easily from their mortal bodies. They are even easier to guide. But returning a soul to life? The cost is much higher.”
“But if you refused to shake their hand? Wouldn’t they all come back to life?”
“It allows them to return to their bodies, yes. But my power is still required for soul and body to repair. Every time someone has escaped my hand—Eremis and Anton both—I allowed it. For Eremis, I wanted to know how he withstood my illusion and lure. I could not allow anyone else a way to refuse my hand. Anton…well. Now you know the truth: I needed him to live. I made an exception.”
“Time and again,” I clarify.
She nods. “A costly drawing of power, but a necessary one.”
But…“The mirror still has dominion over souls. Over death.”
“It is Kastiel’s main purpose,” she says. “As harbinger. Vengeance personified.”
Because the mirror isn’t just a trap anymore. It holds all of Kastiel’s power.
“And can anyone who wields the mirror use that power?” If his power over death on such a scale is not costly the way returning a soul to life is…
“Anyone to whom it is given,” she says, narrowing her gaze.
“Then make a bargain with me, Moranya,” I say.
It’s a risk, revealing my card, but I have to try.
I pull the pendant from the sleeve of my dress.
“I know the location of the other shards, too. I will bring them to you and ensure the mirror is repaired. But first you will let me borrow it to stop the war.”
Moranya lifts her brow. “You think you can wield such a thing?”
“Didn’t you? Were you not a mortal before you stole the mirror?”
“Being mortal is of no consequence,” she says.
“I spent days with Kastiel, learning how to handle the mirror’s power on the chance that I might have to use it to defend our world.
Even holding it requires a great deal of energy, and you, Vastianna, are strong of spirit but not of body. The power would overtake you.”
“If my body could survive your realm, I wouldn’t exactly call that weak.
” I might be fatigued, sick, weary, but weak?
No. “My body has carried me through years of imprisonment, toil, and unimaginable pain, yet still I stand,” I say, repeating Sadira’s words—words I have clung to ever since she spoke them. Because she’s right.
I am a survivor.
She looks me over, her gaze pondering. “Maybe…but you understand I cannot chance it.”
“This is your only option,” I say, lifting my chin. “Otherwise I will keep the pendant out of reach and see the shards destroyed.”
“You wouldn’t!” Moranya argues. And maybe she’s right.
But I remain steadfast, daring her to call my bluff. “You say we make impossible decisions for the ones we love. What makes you think I wouldn’t do the same? Have you not witnessed the lengths to which I will go?”
“You would be harming your own eternity,” Moranya says.
“Do you really think I would put my own future above those I love?”
Moranya glances back at the mirror she’s holding. With her free hand, she grazes her fingers along its ridges and cracks. “Fine, Vastianna. If you are so certain of yourself, I will tell you what I know about wielding the mirror’s power safely.”
I nod, but still she clutches the mirror, hesitant.
“You may borrow the mirror for a single day,” she says. “I can withdraw enough power to sustain the realm for that period. Any longer, however, and not only will the realm begin to crumble, but I will not be able to save any souls who perish. And that includes Anton, should he die in this war.”