“No,” she replies, looking up at me. Her amber-hazel eyes hold a stillness that was not there before. “I am whole.”
“Whole and bright,” Dastian notes, stepping closer but keeping his hands to himself for once. “You are practically radiating.”
“Shut up, Dastian,” she says, but she does not sound annoyed. She steps back, breaking my hold. I let her go. It requires effort.
Voren moves from the window. “The dead hear you now. They are quiet because they are listening.”
“Good,” Nyssa says. “I need everyone listening.” She turns to Tabitha. “The Devourer waits for a vessel. It waits for authority. I have both.”
“You intend to let it possess you?” I ask, stepping between her and the door. My shadows flare, burying the floorboards in darkness. “Absolutely not.”
“No,” she corrects, her gaze snapping to mine. It carries the weight of a command. “I intend to show it what it wants, and then I intend to crush it. It wanted a ruler. It gets an executioner.”
“Nice,” Dastian mutters.
I glare at him, then look back to Nyssa. She stands tall. My shadows retreat from her boots, acknowledging the shift in power before I do.
“We are with you,” I say.
“I know,” she replies.
“It’s retreating,” Tabitha says suddenly from the window.
“What do you mean?” I demand and stride over.
“It’s leaving.”
I stare up at the sky and see that the dark cloud is dissipating. “She’s right. It must sense that this isn’t going to be as easy as it thought.”
“Makes me feel a bit better about choosing everyone else over my sister,” Nyssa mutters.
I return to her side and pull her to me. “Only a true hero does that.”
“Fuck off,” she grumbles into my chest. “The last few minutes, hours, whatever, have been one total mind-fuck. I am totally over this whole fucking thing. I want it to end like yesterday. So we need to find out where it’s retreating to and go and kick its arse before it decides to come back and fuck with us some more.”
“Fighting talk!” Dastian says. “I am so here for it. But how do we find it? It’s probably gone someplace that we can’t follow.”
“Maybe, or maybe it will hide in plain sight,” I say, kissing the top of Nyssa’s head. She is trembling. The power she has accepted is vibrating under her skin. But it’s more than that. Whatever this Judge put her through has left her emotionally drained and exhausted. “Tea?” I ask.
She looks up at me with a radiant smile. “Do we have time for tea?”
“We always have time foryou,” I reply.
“I’ll make it,” Voren says and marches off to the kitchen.
“Does he even know how to make tea?” Nyssa asks with a small laugh.
“I made you a sandwich!” he calls from the other room.
“Yeah, tea and sandwiches are two totally different things. Tea takes more skill than slapping some ham between two slices of bread!” she calls back.
“He will manage,” I assure her, guiding her to the sofa. She sinks into the cushions without argument. The trembling in her hands is slight, but I feel it when I take them in mine. Her skin is cold. I rub her knuckles, trying to bring warmth back to her. My shadows ripple along the floorboards, anxious to wrap around her, but I hold them back. She needs space, not darkness.
Dastian stops pacing and drops into the armchair opposite us. He watches Nyssa with a frown. “It bothers me,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the window. “That it just left.”
“It is hunger. And hunger is patient,” Tabitha states, standing near the door with her hands clasped.
“Great,” Nyssa mutters, keeping her eyes closed. “Just what I wanted to hear. A patient, stalker void monster.”
