Change anyone! “Humans don’t have magic,” I blurt out.
“That’s right.” He shakes his hands, pushing his fingers into the light like dough. “Let’s change that. Give them magic, make all your new creatures equal.”
“This is madness,” Selene mutters in fear and awe.
“Madness gives way to hope,” he rebuts. “There is the problem of your hearts. Hmmm…” His face turns pensive. “Do I do as I did to them?” He claps suddenly, the magic in his palm sparks. “So be it. Only a handful of swords can kill you. Be careful, for they are in this world now.”
“What sword?”
He shakes his head with much disapproval. “I answered this when we first spoke.”
“The sword in the Vitalis,” I acknowledge, recalling the memory.
He raises an eyebrow. “Bravo. You catch on quickly. There is hope yet.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” I mumble.
“But you liked the other gifts, didn’t you? Don’t be selfish, don’t accept more magic, strength, and life without expecting a balance.”
“Don’t do this,” Selene stresses. “Please. This isn’t what my brother wanted.”
“Everett,” Elderan speaks with longing. “He wanted so many unselfish things. But he saw this. He knew what was coming, Selene. He warned you. We all have sacrifices. This shall be Tristen’s.”
He looks back at me. “Be careful who you sire. I know the guilt a parent carries. It humbles you. Start with Titus once he can manage it, then make others.” The magic floats off his palm and drifts toward me. My chest keeps hitting the invisible grip he’s trapped me in, making each rapid inhale shorter.
“Stop!” Selene shouts in a wild fury. “Please stop!”
I want to fight, scream, and kick for my life. Instead, I push my shoulders down. “It’s okay, Selene.” I swallow down my fear and face death with unblinking eyes.
Elderan’s eyes glow with delight as his magic runs down my cheek, caressing it as a lover would. It dances over my jaw, purrs down my neck, and then hums with glee once it hovers over my heart. His magic pierces my chest, cracks a part of me. It’s a powerful boot stomping on a snail’s shell. I’m defenseless, weak, brittle.
Selene, screaming my name, is the last thing I hear. Gods be damned, I had to die hearing her screaming again. I wish it were screams of pleasure rather than tortured cries.
Bellowing light eradicates my shadow magic, making it cry out, sizzle, fume, flare, and then break under the weight.
You fought hard, my friend. I am the one who failed you.
It whimpers. It’s still there, being forced to endure alongside me. Elderan’s magic stretches us out as one scrapes honey from the comb.
My heart stops, and then I feel nothing at all.
But I welcome it because if I survive, I know I’ll never feel this much peace again.
Chapter
Forty-Five
Titus
The steady sound of my horse’s hooves calms my heart; my eyes are narrow, lashes lower. Fingers clench the reins. Dirt flies into the air, mixed with the deep snorts my horse exhales. It all merges into a storm, provoking and preparing me for the battle.
The hardest battle isn’t winning the war; it’s returning home. Sitting down to eat with your friends and family, those emotions turn on. The smooth motion of your knife slicing into the steak evokes the memory of your sword’s deadly precision.
You learn that you have to split your soul in half. There are versions of yourself: a warrior, a man who has to sleep at night, a big brother. They all must coexist to survive.
One hundred feet away, the guards’ horses turn their ears. We’ve been spotted. They presume a defensive stance, then… oh yes, they know who I am, and what hour of the night this is. I watch with sick pleasure as their lips curl up.
It’s a warning to the future me. Never trust fully.
