Aya remained still as the saint began to pace, a laboredsigh leaving her lips. “The Vaguer,” Evie began, tucking her thick black hair behind her ear, “think I should simply force you to open the veil alongside me.”
She paused as she considered the torches high on the wall. The fire cast her face in sharp shadows, making her look more ethereal than human. “But I must save my power for what is to come.”
“Is that why you refuse to build your own army with your power?”
Evie tossed a smirk over her shoulder, her gaze raking down Aya, as if she could see each and every wound tearing her power from her had caused. “It doesn’t seem particularly pleasant,” she remarked. “Perhaps it would be more so if you simply cooperated.”
Aya crossed her arms over her chest to hide the way she could no longer stop her shivering. “Did the Vaguer tell you that as well?”
“No,” Evie admitted. She turned to face Aya fully, her head cocking as she peered at her as if she was something inexplicable. Aya’s arms tightened across her chest, the iron of her chain rattling as it twisted together.
“Who do you seek to protect in your resistance?” Evie wondered aloud. “You saw how quickly the humans betrayed you in Sitya. You’ve heard how little regard the gods have for those who worship them. Would it not be easier to seek revenge for all you’ve lost? For all they’ve taken from you?”
Evie’s brow furrowed. “What has abiding by your gods ever done for you?”
The question was soft.
Genuine.
But then Evie blinked, and that haughtiness returned as she straightened and said, “I suppose I could force you in other ways.”
It was comforting to get back to the familiar. This, Aya knew—threats, pain.
She braced herself for Evie to strike, to turn her blood to fire or to flood her lungs with water as violent as the waves of Anath.
But it didn’t come.
Instead Evie strolled across the cell, stopping just before her. She reached out, her finger lifting a clump of Aya’s wet hair and draping it behind her shoulder. She stroked Aya’s skin from temple to chin, her touch light, lips pursed in contemplation.
“What a shame it would be to lose the memories of such a great love.”
It took Aya a moment to realize what, exactly, Evie was threatening.
Her stomach plunged, her own threats turning to ash on her tongue as her blood went cold.
Perhaps Evie was right. Perhaps after everything, Aya had still underestimated her.
“You can’t steal someone’s memories.” She was no better than a child, scared and rasping in the face of an obvious truth in which they did not want to abide.
Already, Evie had persuaded Aya to do horrific things.
“Saudra’s gift runs in my very veins,” Evie murmured. She cupped Aya’s chin, her grip tight where her thumb pressed in. “You have no idea what I can do. Whatyoucould do, under my guidance.” She tilted Aya’s face up, forcing her to hold her gaze as her eyes narrowed. “I wonder…would it make you more amenable?”
The edges of the room grew dark until all Aya could see was the blue of Evie’s eyes. And then that was gone too, and all that was left was darkness.
Darkness, and Will.
There he was, pulled to the front of her mind as if answering a siren’s call. She could see him so clearly, could reach out and touch him if she could move. She tried to blink him away, but he stayed, forced there by whatever Evie’s wicked power was wielding in her mind.
Or was it happening before her? Because there was Will, cocking his head, his hair sweeping across his brow as he stared at her with a sad smile.
“It’s useless to fight,” he murmured, the low timbre of his voice just as warm as she remembered. It was just like her dreams.
No, it was better.
Not real.
The image before her flickered around the edges, and Aya bit back a cry. She did not want him to go.
