Chapter 43 #2
Stefan chose this path, and I will watch every second of him reaping what he has sown.
The howling roar of pain hits my ears for less than a heartbeat before it is silenced, pulled from the air by one of the other Issen.
But I don’t need to hear the cries of the former successor to know the agony that tears at every fibre of his body, the excruciating torture that sears through his bones as he writhes against Inara’s grip, flailing helplessly as his magic is ripped from every vein, every strand of his being.
Stefan’s eyes roll back, his hands bleeding as his nails pierce the flesh of his palms.
And then, it is done.
Inara steps back and the sounds return. Not cries, but sobs. Sobs that stem from his very core. And I feel not an ounce of remorse.
‘You are banished,’ Magnus says darkly to Stefan. ‘Leave our lands now!’ Then he turns back to the warriors around him. ‘Find the alarms, dig them out, and get them working again,’ Magnus orders before walking back to his sled.
Gently, Kyor helps me to my feet. Once I’m steady and Fen is at my side, he moves again.
‘Benny…’ Kyor begins. ‘Let’s take Ruben back to the city now.
’ The softness in his voice grinds the shards of my broken heart into nothing more than dust. I don’t want Kyor to be soft with Benny.
I want him to be joking, or angry, or fucking threatening to kill him, because at least that would feel right.
But this … this is so very, very wrong. ‘Elska can carry him,’ Kyor continues.
‘Carry you both. She would be honoured to.’
Benny lifts his head, his face tear-stained and crumpled. ‘Why?’ he says softly, and for a moment I think he’s asking why it would be Elska’s honour, but that’s not what he means at all.
‘I don’t know, buddy,’ Kyor whispers in reply. ‘Only Mortidem does.’
We walk slowly. Elska carries both Benny and Ruben, Fen at her side, and Kyor’s hand never leaves mine.
My eyes flicker constantly to Benny and Ruben, and the way Benny holds his arm tightly around Ruben’s waist, as if falling could cause him harm.
Or maybe it’s just that he can’t bear to let him go.
As I watch the pair, I think of the night Elska carried Kyor and me.
When I wondered, with every step, if I would lose him as we raced to Galreck.
I was terrified and barely able to breathe for fear, but I would give anything for that fear right now.
Because fear still allows hope to glimmer through its darkened mantle.
There is no hope now.
Darkness has well and truly won.
Shortly after Isthyr finally comes into view, we pass a group of two dozen guards heading out onto the snow, perhaps to burn the jotnar bodies, perhaps merely to help fix the alarms. They dip their heads in respect.
My tears continue to fall in silence, and when we reach the city, a familiar face races towards us. Towards Elska. There will be no drought to the pain that floods through me. I know that.
And so does she.
‘Ruben … no! No, no, no…’
Elska draws to a stop before Caz and lowers herself gracefully to the ground. This is love from Elska, a kind of reverence I have seen only once from her.
‘Benny… Oh Gods…’ Caz’s voice breaks as she wraps her arms around the men and squeezes so tightly it’s as though she’s hoping she can hold the world together by force.
She knows, better than any other, precisely how Benny feels in this moment and offers no hollow platitudes, no empty words of solace. She just clings to him. I see in her face, in her grip, that she loved Ruben too. We all did. He was impossible not to love.
The fragments of dust that have taken the place of my heart cry out. Caz shouldn’t have to understand the pain that Benny is suffering. And yet now they are bonded in an agony that none should have to endure.
‘Why can’t we keep them, Caz?’ Benny’s voice cracks as tears fall freely down his face. ‘Why is it us?’
‘I don’t know,’ she whispers, shaking her head, dark skin glistening as her breaths quake. ‘I don’t know, honey.’
A silent crowd has gathered, and though their heads are bowed in respect, moments like this deserve privacy.
‘Benny,’ I say, approaching my friend for the first time since we left the battlefield. He and Ruben are still atop Elska, and they can’t stay there forever. ‘We need to take Ruben somewhere, okay? Somewhere inside.’
Benny clutches Ruben to his chest.
‘I can’t leave him,’ he chokes. ‘I can’t.’
‘We’re not asking you to, but we can’t stay out here.’ I swallow hard. ‘The temple. We’ll take him to Oel’s temple, if that’s what you think he would want? Whatever you think is best.’
‘Yes. He wouldn’t want to go to Etta’s temple, not after what happened to his mother.’ His voice breaks on the last word.
As Elska moves to rise again, a figure breaks out from the crowd.
‘Princess.’ Nettie, from the healers’ quarters, hurries towards us. Her face is pale and pained as she looks at me. ‘I am so sorry for your loss. I’ve been called to help.’
A bitter laugh threatens to splinter in my throat. After all, there is nothing a healer can do for Ruben. Not now.
But then I realise it is not Ruben she is talking about.
‘Benny, let her help you.’ Kyor is the one who speaks. ‘Your shoulder, your ankle… You’ll be able to hold him easier if they’re healed. Let her help you, buddy.’
The future duke offers no response, but once again Elska lowers herself down. As Nettie crosses towards them, Benny’s head snaps around to face her.
‘I want to be able to carry him,’ he says. ‘Carry him to the temple.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’