Lifting her hand, Vi moved forward deliberately. Her fingertips dipped into the flames first. It was warm—Fiera’s power undeniable. But it didn’t burn her.
She didn’t want to assume full control of the flames, merely adjust them. Pushing her magic out from her extended hand, a hole barely larger than her wrist appeared in the wall of fire. She extended her magic further, stretching the opening little by little until it was wide enough for her to step through, flames raging right at the edge of her power.
On the other side of the fire, Vi released her hold, allowing the flames to ease back into place.
“Narro hath hoolo,” Vi uttered, her eyes locked with the sword on the wall. She didn’t so much as look at Taavin when he appeared.
“This is record time for you getting here.” He took a step forward, looking up at the sword. “What did you do?”
“What you told me to: I befriended Fiera and found the sword. Then I came to it.” Vi crossed in front of him, lifting the weapon off its pegs.
“You need to be more specific. It’s my duty to record all you do, and because I keep that memory, you do better every time… until, eventually, we succeed.”
“We’ll succeed this time,” Vi insisted, focusing on the scabbard.
“While I admire your confidence, we won’t know for sure until your sight shows us a future where Raspian is safely sealed away.”
“Have a bit of faith.” She finally allowed her attention to stray to him. His eyes were twice as brilliant and three times as hard as an emerald. “Believe in me.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.” Vi set down the blade on the table, taking a step away from it. Every time she was near the weapon it consumed her attention—but she wanted to give Taavin her undivided focus. “You don’t think we’ll succeed this time, otherwise you wouldn’t be so cautious.”
“I’m cautious because the world needs me to be.”
“Because you think I’ll fail.”
“It’s not what I think that matters. It’s what’s happened ninety-two times…” he murmured, glancing askance. Vi refused to allow it, stepping into his field of vision.
“When you look at me, you see me combined with ninety-two other versions of myself. You see actions I have not taken, but still could. Moments when I succeeded and, more often than not, failed. You see me in a way that I can’t even imagine myself.” She looked at him from head to toe. “But when I look at you… I only see one Taavin. The Taavin who taught me my magic and guided me across Meru, who betrayed me and my father. The Taavin I still loved even when I thought one more betrayal would break my heart. The Taavin I watched burn—” Her voice broke and she allowed herself to fall silent.
She didn’t want him to sweep her into his arms and kiss her fiercely with lips that weren’t really there. She wanted to feel like he understood—like he heard her. When he remained silent, she continued.
“All I have is you, Taavin,” she whispered. “But you’re stuck with those other ninety-two versions of me, and part of you is already expecting to meet the ninety-fourth. You’ll never be with just me again.”
“You’re wrong,” he said hastily. Emotions broke through all at once. His eyebrows pinched, his lower lip quivered slightly as he spoke. His hands trembled, as if wanting to reach for her, but they remained in place. She wondered if he, too, was held by the same invisible tethers that kept her rooted to the floor. “You are the only one I am with… the only one I have ever been with.
“You consume every thought I have. There’s not a corner of my mind you don’t fill. Or—” He was before her now, toes nearly touching. So close she could feel the phantom warmth that radiated off him like magic and sunlight. Vi raised a trembling hand, resting it on his chest, feeling the simple fabrics where there had once been intricate embroidery.
“Or?” she repeated, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
“Or my heart,” he said finally. “You vex me. I have hurt you and you’ve hurt me in ways I cannot describe. And even now, I love you. I love you in a way I don’t know if I deserve.”
“You do,” she whispered. She needed him here, now. She needed this love as much as she wanted it.
“I’m not sure.” Taavin chuckled softly. The tip of his middle finger brushed against her temple. Soon his fingertips were in her hair, smoothing it away from her face, knotting in the strands at the nape of her neck.
“It’s not your decision to make.” Her head tilted upward, obliging his unspoken guidance. Her eyes dipped closed. “You’ll be hurt again,” she breathed across his lips.
“So will you.”
It wasn’t quite a kiss, but a trembling of lips brushed together. Vi pressed forward eagerly, and Taavin obliged. His arms tightened and she was swept against him.
Vi pressed her eyelids tighter together. This kiss…it wasn’t the same. She willed her mind to ignore the slight shimmer of magic, the heat of the glyph at the watch that brought him into her world, the thin barrier that couldn’t be lifted between them. She wanted to scream, and the only way she could keep the feeling contained was to smother it with his mouth.
When they pulled apart, his cheeks were lightly flushed. His fingers caressed her face.
“What should we do now that I have the sword?” Vi pulled away, flashing him a smile when she saw the confusion in his eyes at the swift change in topic.
