‘Please,’ Aya sobbed. She wasn’t sure who she was even pleading to – if Saudra or any of the Divine still listened to her calls. Eliza’s eyes rolled back into her head, her body convulsing in violent shudders as she struggled for breath. ‘Please!’
Her mother’s body contorted once more, her back arching as she gasped for air that wasn’t there. And then she stilled, her blue eyes empty as they stared up at Aya.
Aya’s breaths were panicked as she stared at her mother’s broken body, the air sharp in her lungs. Dead. Her mother was dead by her hand again, and would continue dying, stuck in the veil in some sort of limbo designed straight from the hells. Aya’s grief was sharp and fine as any blade, and she honed it until she could feel it crackle in the air around her.
‘I see now,’ the Vaguer breathed. Aya whipped her head to him. Fury rose in her, so sharp, so intense, she nearly choked on it.
This was no trial. This was torture.
‘Stop this,’ she bit out.
Her power swirled not just in her, but around her, sending the charcoal mist whirling like a bitter wind.
‘Tell me, Daughter of Darkness. What would you give to right your greatest wrong?’
There was that voice again, murmuring softly in her soul as she glared at the Vaguer.
Aya grit her teeth against the pull of her power. It was building, zinging against her skin until she could see webs of white light flickering across her arms.
The same light that had speared across the Artist Market.
Aya recoiled slightly from it, and the voice merely laughed.The darkness around her swirled, howling like a building storm. ‘That’s it,’ the voice sang to her, a mere whisper over the raging wind. ‘Embrace your rage. Embrace your essence. See what you are destined for.’ Aya raised her hand against the battering wind, air searing her lungs as she sought to steady herself. ‘What would you give to gain all that you seek? To undo your greatest sin?’ The darkness swirled, faster and faster until she could feel bits of sand cutting into her face, until she could hardly see the old man mere feet from her.
Then, as quickly as it began, the wind died, and for a moment the only sound in the desert was Aya’s panting breaths.
The dark mist parted like fog, revealing a kneeling figure before her. His head was bowed, his hands bound behind his back. Dread worked its way through Aya as Will met her gaze. He let out a shuddering breath.
‘Aya.’
She shook her head slowly, her body trembling as she took him in. His face was gaunt, his gray eyes dark and smudged with purple underneath. Horror twisted in her gut as she realized what he was kneeling before.
They weren’t trenches she’d dug.
They were graves.
He was presented to her like a sacrifice.
‘It’s okay,’ Will breathed, the tenor of his voice betraying him. His eyes dropped to Aya’s hand, taking note of the knife clenched in her fist – the whittling knife he’d given her. She’d slipped it into her pocket on a whim before she’d left the palace.
She hadn’t remembered reaching for it now.
This is where we always end up, isn’t it, Aya love.
Something wet trailed down her cheeks, and Will shook his head slowly.
‘Aya, stay with me.’
Her hand tightened on the knife’s handle as her thoughts tripped over one another, sliding through her head like mud. The sword had done something to her; to her power. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t steady herself against the raging of her affinity inside her, inside her verymind.
Aya grit her teeth as she tried to focus.
Not real. Her mother was at peace. And Will … Will was in Rinnia and had probably yet to notice her absence.
No.
She knew him. Eventually, he would realize she was gone – and he’d come after her, the argument between them be damned.
‘What would you trade to your gods, Daughter of Darkness? Would you damn his soul for your mother’s?’ The voice was coming from the Vaguer now, and she couldn’t separate truth from fear as she spun back to Will.
