Chapter 43
‘Ruben!’ I don’t even think about the jotnar as I charge across the ice. My sight is no longer slowed, which means it’s in real time that I watch his head smack against the hard ground with a thud that resonates through the ice.
‘That’s it! They’re retreating!’ Stefan yells, but I don’t bother checking. I don’t stop. I have to get to Ruben. Because if I can get to him, then maybe I can make it right.
‘I’ve got you. I’m here. I’m here.’ I drop down on the ground next to him, refusing to see the trickle of blood that meanders down the ice from the back of his head. ‘It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.’
I interlace my fingers, the heel of one palm pressed just above the knuckles of my other hand as I push both down against his sternum, sending my healing powers into him.
‘Come on, come on.’ I’m pushing again and again and again, trying to make his blood flow again, pumping his heart with all I’m worth. ‘You can do this. You’re still in there, Ruben. I know you are. Tell Mortidem to fuck off!’
I hear the crack when it happens – a rib snapping beneath the pressure of my compressions.
Still, I don’t stop. I don’t lessen the pressure, don’t slow my pace, don’t stop the flow of my power.
That’s not how this works. It needs to be constant to get him back.
And I am going to get him back. I’ve seen Mother do it more than once.
Perform a miracle. Well, the Gods owe me one.
‘You are not leaving me, Ruben!’ I order. ‘Not like this. That wasn’t your magic, Ru. It was mine. Mine. I was the one who gave it to you. Please, come on, you have to be able to hear me. You can’t burn out on my magic. I won’t let you.’
A snowflake flutters above his lips, causing my heart to hitch. Was that a breath? It had to be. A breath. Yes!
It was not a breath, Little Raven, Fen says with sorrow. Just my footsteps stirring the snow. I am sorry.
Fen’s tone is soft, but his words are wrong. No, no, it was a breath! I saw it. I know what it was.
Little Raven, you need to stop.
No! My throat cracks from the tears as I try to pull the pain back. He just needs a little longer, Fen. He’s coming back to us. I can feel it. I can feel it.
No, Little Raven, he is—
Don’t say it! I can do this. I can bring him back. I’m a healer, for fuck’s sake. My mother was a healer, and she said I had the potential to equal her, rival her! If I can just find the magic she would have used, I can do it. This is what I’m meant to do.
Not even healers can bring people back from the dead. No one can do that. Not when Mortidem has them.
‘He’s not dead!’ There’s another pop as I push with all my might. But that’s okay. Broken ribs are okay. Fuck, I’ll break every bone in his body if it brings him back.
‘Rose.’ My name is barely a whisper on the wind, but the sound of his voice makes it feel as if all of the air has been ripped from me. ‘Rose, honey, you have to stop now.’ Benny’s voice trembles.
I shake my head, freeing the pools of tears that have filled my eyes.
‘No! No, I can save him!’
‘I said stop!’ Benny’s broken shout sears through my lungs and my body judders. A stifled cry is trapped in my throat, and still my hands continue to pump. Or at least they try to. My arms are burning, shaking, and my shoulders can’t keep up the constant motion as I tremble with tears.
‘I … I can’t … I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him too.’
‘It’s too late. We already have.’
My hands hover above Ruben’s sternum, but only now do I force my eyes away from his chest and up to his face.
His eyes are open. They’ve returned to that warm brown hue I know so well, but there’s no glint of life to them. Ruben stares vacantly upwards while Benny kneels beside him.
Numbness fills my body. This can’t be right. It can’t be. We made it. We made it to Isthyr. To the Issen. We beat the Rottings and the Myrkr. Hell, I’m a fucking princess. This can’t be right.
Fen … I whisper.
Sadness and sympathy swell from my wolf’s body into mine, but he does not reply. He doesn’t need to. There is nothing else to say. Nothing to do.
He’s gone. Ruben is gone.
Benny runs his hand through his loved one’s hair, murmuring gently as the soft song of the wind glides down from the mountaintops. The jotnar are gone, but I cannot find it in me to care.
‘Princess.’ Stefan stands beside me using an ice spear as a crutch, his body crooked as all his weight favours one side. ‘Princess, I’m sorry—’
‘No!’ My movement is instant and instinctual as I swing around and press my blade against his throat.
The Issen’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t move away.
‘No! You don’t get to speak to me about him. You don’t get to tell me you’re sorry. You did this! You killed him!’
‘I … I understand why you are angry.’
‘You’re a fucking murderer!’ I scream. ‘It should be you … It should be you who… It should be you!’
My lungs begin to tremble from the effort of holding back the tears, and Stefan slides away from the blade, but before he can blink, I’m back, dagger once more pressed against his skin.
One slice is all it would take. Not even that.
A nick and he would be judged by the Gods.
I wouldn’t have his blood on my hands. Not really. It would be the blade’s choice.
‘Thorn? Thorn!’
‘Kyor?’
I turn in the snow, letting my hand drop as I see him racing towards me, Elska bounding across my crudely built bridge. As it crumbles beneath her, she leaps. My heart is in my throat as she lands safely, and she and Kyor tear towards me.
‘Rose, are you hurt?’
‘You were right,’ I say when he reaches me. ‘You were right all along. Stefan. The jotnar. Ruben. The ravine. He used the ravine.’ I know my words don’t make any sense, mere fragments of sentences I can’t complete.
Kyor’s hands clasp my face as he gently twists my head back and forth, scanning me for injuries. If only he could see the way my heart is shattered – destroyed – he would know that scratches and fractures mean nothing.
‘Ruben…’ I whisper as his hands finish moving over my body. ‘Ruben.’
Kyor’s eyes meet mine as his face pales. ‘The jotnar?’
‘And me.’
‘You…?’ he questions.
My lungs burn with all the tears I’ve cried and all the ones I know are yet to come. My best friend. That’s what Ruben called me. My lucky charm. Agony sears through my sternum and my shoulders cave in around it.
I’m a fucking curse. There’s a reason I kept myself closed off for years. Because this happens when I don’t. When people get close to me, they die. Llin and now Ruben. Both would be alive if it weren’t for me.
‘I could see it, Kyor. I could see it was too much power for him to handle. His eyes. His voice. I could see, but Benny … Benny was in danger. It was going to kill him. I had to choose. Ruben made me choose.’ My body slumps forward, my frame collapsing under the weight of the pain and tears.
Kyor’s arms tighten around me.
‘No, he didn’t make you choose. He didn’t. He chose, Thorn. Ruben chose to save Benny, and you can’t take that away from him.’
I try to nod, but I can’t even manage that. Kyor’s thumb brushes the stream of tears that pool on my lips.
‘It was his choice, Thorn, not yours. He chose to save the person he loves. That’s what happened. And I bet he’d do the same thing a hundred times over if he had the choice again, just like I would.’
Only when the earth rumbles behind me do I see Kyor has not come alone. Magnus, Uzra, and a dozen Issen warrior women stand on sleds on the far side of the ravine, the chasm between us shrinking with every passing second.
‘Rose, thank Oel you’re all right,’ Magnus says as soon as the ravine is gone and he’s reached us.
He pulls me into his chest. It is the first time he’s held me – the first time he’s ever hugged one of his grandchildren – and the reason he does so is death.
It almost feels fitting, given everything my family has gone through.
And yet I lean into it. I allow myself the familial embrace that I have missed for so long. I know he’s waited longer still.
I have gained much by coming here – I know that – but I’ve lost just as much.
‘I don’t understand why you were out this far,’ he says, his gaze on Stefan. ‘Did you know the alarms were down? If so, why didn’t you send an order to get them fixed?’
‘Because he wanted it to look like the jotnar killed Rose,’ Kyor spits. ‘Because he would do anything to get her out of the picture and keep the throne. As I’ve been trying to tell you all!’
Magnus releases me and his entire posture shifts.
That warmth that held me only a moment ago is gone, replaced by a coldness that is almost as dark and terrifying as his power as he looks at Stefan.
‘I will ask you only once and remind you that we have more than one truth seer in Isthyr at present. Is what Kyor says the truth? Did you plan to have the princess killed out here?’
My heart drums against my ribcage as Stefan closes his eyes, and for a second, I believe he’s about to show remorse for his actions. Instead, his jaw tightens and his eyes flare as he reopens them.
‘The Veil said that I could be the next ruler!’ he hisses.
‘Yes…’ Magnus replies softly. ‘Could. Not should. And definitely not will. Not anymore.’ He turns to the women behind him. ‘Inara.’
As a dark-haired Issen steps forward, Stefan staggers back, only to stumble on his broken leg.
‘No, no, please, Your Majesty. I am sorry. You’re right. Could. Not would. I understand now. I understand. I repent, truly.’
There is no mercy in Magnus’s eyes now. No pacifism. ‘You tried to kill my granddaughter. You will not maintain the power to do such a thing again.’
My stomach hollows as I realise what is about to happen. What Inara’s power is.
The Issen is calm, her face entirely neutral as she kneels beside a scrambling Stefan. With little effort, she places her hands on either side of his head.
‘You don’t have to watch this, Thorn,’ Kyor says.
But I do. This isn’t like what happened to my family and me. This is about justice, not some megalomaniacal king meting out personal vengeance.