“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I have to kill him,” I said, my voice empty. The truth that had been buried in the back of my mind, the one I’d screwed tight in a box, because I never wanted to open it. “I have to find him. Don’t I? And kill him.”
“No,” Auriel said, his eyes full of alarm. “Lyriana, no. You can’t do that.”
I shrugged. “Maybe I can’t. I might not be strong enough.” Akadim had the strength of five soturi. Even the weakest and smallest ones could overpower you. Coming across an akadim who hadn’t trained in combat was still a near-impossible kill to make. But taking on Rhyan as an akadim? Rhyan was the strongest warrior in the Empire. And he knew all of my moves, my weaknesses, my tells. He’d trained me himself. Fighting him was going to be like taking on a small army. “He’ll beimpossibly strong. He might even be the strongest akadim that ever existed.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Auriel said. “I meant—” He frowned. “I … Realms.” He squinted, like he was in pain and shook his head. He’d lost his train of thought—his memories really weren’t accessible to him now.
“It doesn’t matter if I’m strong enough. Or ready. I never will be. But I still have to try.” I sniffled. “For him.” A fresh bout of pain washed over me, like a wet blanket sinking into my heart, weighing it down. “Because I can’t allow it. Can’t allow him to live like this. Do you understand how horrible this fate is for Rhyan? What being an akadim will do to him? The part of him that washim? Alive? He could be hurting people. Killing them. Or—” By the Gods. I couldn’t fathom where my mind was going next. Because Rhyan was always so careful with me, so concerned with making sure I was okay every step of the way when we were together. Whether it was our bodies joining, or him healing me, or training me. He never did anything I didn’t want him to—that I wasn’t comfortable with, or ready for.
That I didn’t say yes to.
The idea of Rhyan not taking those things into account— not caring, the idea of Rhyan fully acting like an akadim, Rhyan doing what akadim did … I couldn’t even form the word for what it was. Couldn’t put Rhyan andthatinto the same sentence.
My stomach twisted violently, and I leaned over the blanket, throwing up all over the floor. Bile burned my throat as I heaved again and again.
Auriel rushed to his feet and moved behind me, collecting my hair in one hand, and rubbing my neck with the other. He really was trying to take care of me. Trying to soothe me. Like Rhyan would have.
Fresh tears fell down my face. “I just can’t let him be like this. Being an akadim would have been his worst nightmare. He’s toogentle for this life. He cares for people too much.” I shook my head, “He won’t always show it, but he does. He can’t stand the thought of hurting someone. Especially someone innocent. He can’t even stand to let people down. When he thinks he’s failed someone—even when things were clearly out of his control, even when he did everything he could, even if he did everything right, the way he beats himself up—” I froze “Beat-past tense. He … No. No. I can’t let him be like this. I can’t allow him to be a monster.”
“Maybe he doesn’t have to be one,” Auriel said.
“I don’t think either of us are getting a choice in the matter anymore.” I wiped my mouth, and spat, leaning away from Auriel’s touch. Then I rose to my feet. “I have to go,” I said.
“Go? Go where?”
“Numeria. The capital. That’s where Rhyan was when he turned. He might still be there. If he’s not, he won’t be far.”
“You can’t leave,” Auriel said. “Not now. Not yet. You’re still drained, your magic depleted. And the rain out there …” He shook his head. “You need to wait.”
“I already waited,” I said, my body at the edge of the cave.
“Too long.”
Auriel took my hand again, and led me back to the blanket. “Please. Just wait a little longer. Until the sun rises. Or at least, wait until the rain stops. Recover your strength, then we’ll figure it out.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, listening to the rainfall, the truth of it all weighing me down.
When I’d made my choice earlier tonight, I’d bet on the fact that I’d reach Rhyan before he was stripped. Before it was too late. I’d bet that I had enough magic power on reserve to get to him, to fight my way to his side. I thought that if I combined the magic of the red light inside my chest together with the shield containing the orange shard—Ereshya’s shard—I could do it. I’d have enough light from the Valalumir supporting me. And Iwould call onRakashonim, embody the full power and magic of Asherah, take on all of the strength of my past self, and fight my way to him. Save him.
I’d given everything I had. Risked everything else I could.
Everything. But it hadn’t been enough.
Ihadn’t been enough. I’d been too slow. Too weak. Too late.
I’d failed. Failed him when he needed me most.
I never should have gone after the orange shard, never should have tried to steal the shield. I should have used what I had—relied on my own strength. My own fury and love. I should have gone straight to him. Even if I’d lost limbs it wouldn’t have mattered. I could have reached him first. Before he was stripped. Before the akadim came.
That Godsdamned fucking shield. I was so sure I needed it. Needed to let its ancient power surge through me. And in the end—all I’d done is trade it back to Morgana. Given her another damn shard of the Valalumir. Traded for Rhyan’s life so I could escape the damn Throne Room. The room Morgana had blockaded with akadim.
And then, my enemy, my sister, Aemon’s lover—Moriel’s lover—betrayed me again.
Because it was their fucking akadim, their monsters, who’d taken my love.
And I hadn’t returned to the inn for my family and friends as I’d promised. They didn’t know yet what had happened. Not to me. Not to Rhyan. Nor the orange shard that we’d been trying for a month to steal.
