I didn’t hear it or see it! The look on Hector’s face—falling without a net when Sable brandished the sword—he fixed it. He landed, but in doing so, he shoved my twin over the edge.
“Stop, Titus,” Hector shouts. His voice no longer icy. It’s paper-thin.
Titus swings his fist to his side. He cradles the fire, unsure what to do.
Sable’s fingers uncurl, like water forced to evaporate under intolerable heat. Inch by inch, they open, and the weight of thesword in her hand clatters to the floor. My heart skips a beat as the metal echoes a dreadful melody.
I feel Titus look at me, grab my hand, and force our fingers to knit together so this shock can’t separate us.
His fire covers my palm, comforting me as an old chipped teacup filled with tea would. I hug his hand to my chest, just like I would that beloved teacup. A flush of warmth touches my stony heart as he adjusts the temperature.
I shake my head. A ghastly truth trembles on my lips. A premonition of how this is all going to end. Just as Everett told me.
Sacrifices.
My twin and I are the same. We’re just used differently. We’re pens that sign peace treaties and declare war. Fires that warm and consume; maps that show ways and mislead.
That premature smile is slapped off my face. Reality settles like boulders in my belly.
I look at Titus as one does their favorite tree, knowing winter is about to claim all its lush vibrant leaves. Those thick branches that shaded me are going to be skinned raw, barren, exposed, forced to survive the cold, lonely winter in hope spring will come. “I love you.”I whisper.Spring will come and shine upon your handsome face again. You will live and smile, laugh and love. You are our hope for survival. I am just a ladder that helped you. That’s okay, my love. I would mold myself into endless tools to help you get the Vitalis.
I will.
He keeps his eyes ahead on the ghastly spectacle that has beguiled us. “I love you, too.”
I squeeze his fingers covered in fire, and then I face my fate. Only mage lights fill the room, keeping it dim, as if to aid in covering up this sin. Reaching behind her, Sable claws ather spine, desperate to unearth a soul-crushing torment of the dagger in it.
Hector’s breaths are waves clashing against one another, trying to drown out the horror of his actions. But when you drown, feeling persists. The pressure bearing down, the weight dragging you under, the burn in your chest. Under the waves, the water magnifies everything.
Hector’s arm is still outstretched, and in his fist, I see the dagger he plunged into my twin’s back, piercing her heart.
A death blow.
Sable tries to rebuke it. Her fingers touch his, clawing to remove the blade. I knew he’d betray her, but why now? She was his backup against Titus and me.
Sofia runs in front of us. She looks at Titus’s fire and gulps. “Let Hector explain,” she pleads. Should we accept it?
Hector doesn’t remove the dagger. Instead, he slides his hand down her back, over her hips, where he spins her into his arms. He falls to his knees, cradling her to his chest. The Vitalis, the book we all want, sits there, another spectator in this terrible confusion.
“I am sorry,” Hector exhales a terrible apology filled with anguish. He pushes her hair back, peering into her eyes.
He does love her.
I wish he didn’t. I wish Sable hadn’t died, knowing that love kills.
Was his cruelty a lie? Something he forced himself to learn because it was the only thing Sable responded to?
“You were my dark paradise,” Hector’s lips twitch up. “I wanted to get lost in you, Sable. To build a shelter we could have survived in. Just you and me. No one else.” He glares at the Vitalis. “Nothing else.”He chokes, “Your lips were poison I gladly swallowed. I thought I could withstand the illness that is a side effect of loving you. I thought little by little, I could renderyou into an antidote. But some poisons are just too wicked to be reversed.”
Sable strikes, grabbing Hector, shoving her magic into him. Her nails scratch into a rune tattoo. Her death magic stings, then soaks into a part of him like a sponge. His tattoo begins to fade, and his tan skin turns a pale greenish hue.
He hisses and slaps his hand over hers. Not removing her, only pushes her hand deeper into him.
“You’ll be dead before your magic can kill me,” he admits affectionately. “I won’t let you die alone, Sable.” He holds her tighter.
My hand covers my trembling lips. I compel my blinks to push back my tears.
Who am I crying for? Hector? Sable? Both?
