She watched his skin boil and char, his eyes melt from their sockets. Until the purple flame pulsed too bright. Too hot. Until her mind grew hazy, her breaths short and sharp.
Only then did she release her enemy.
Only then did she succumb to death.
60
Death hurt a lot more than Mareleau had expected.
It was louder too. So loud.
She tried to ignore the sounds, waited for the pain to end. Soon she’d find herself in the otherlife, whatever that meant. Would she find a field of flowers? A tranquil ocean? An eternal banquet with an endless supply of chocolate? How long would she have to wait for everyone else she loved to join her? Hopefully a good long while.
She tried to envision what kinds of chocolate the otherlife might provide, but even as she pictured the most decadent truffles and a cake with ten tiers, that nagging sound interrupted her. It was…a word. No…a chirp? A screech? Why was death so godsdamned loud? Surely her heroic final act had earned her peace and not one of the seven hells instead. Well, if the latter was the case, she’d have to hunt down Darius and plague him in death. She wasn’t above becoming a devil if that was her best option.
But no, she wanted chocolate cake, not—
There was that sound again. Why was there sound? Why was it so sharp and loud when she just wanted to sleep?
Sleep.
“Just let me sleep.”
“She’s alive. Gods, she’s alive.” The voice was even louder now, but it no longer grated on her nerves. It was familiar to her. Treasured. Why would she ever choose chocolate cake overthat? Only now did she realize what the sound had been. Her name. Over and over. The word left Larylis’ lips yet again, like a chant meant to tether her to the plane of the living.
Another sound shattered the haze in her mind. A sweet small cry.
Her heart pulsed in response, warming, spreading. She jolted, and pain shot through every inch of her.
Oh, right. Death was painful.
No, not death.
Life.
Life was…gods, it was agonizing.
Again that tiny cry reached her ears, and she opened her eyes. Smoke clouded her vision, but she blinked it away. Two faces stared down at her, one bronze, the other…
“Lare.” Her voice came out a tired rasp. His cheeks were wet with tears and soot.
She tried to sit but every part of her revolted at the motion.
“Don’t try to move,” Larylis said. “You’re hurt.”
“But she’s healing.” Garot stared down at her with wide eyes. That was when she noticed him bouncing a still-crying Noah in his arms. Noah was no longer wrapped in his lavender swaddling, but the lighter linen layer he’d worn underneath. She’d turned her son’s protection over to Garot before her confrontation with Darius. Now all she wanted was to hold her baby.
If only her arms would let her. They remained limp and aching at her sides. “What happened? Why aren’t I dead?”
Larylis’ eyes bulged. “You intended to die with that gambit?”
“Well, I hoped I wouldn’t, but…” She winced, the corners of her lips cracking and stinging.
“You warded yourself today, didn’t you?” Garot asked.
“Yes,” she said, recalling how she’d cast the wardweaving before her bedroom mirror earlier. Even though she’d hoped the ward had worked, she hadn’t been certain. Nor could she have known it would stop dragon flame.
Her magic had felt stronger than ever when she’d faced Darius, but she hadn’t been focusing on protective wards. Every ounce of her attention had been reserved for her glamour. She’d been willing to do what needed to be done regardless of the result, even if it ended in death. Her intention hadn’t been to undervalue herself to protect others like she had before. Instead, she’d performed her bold act because she knew without a shred of doubt that she’d succeed. That she was strong enough, clever enough, devious enough. Her death or survival simply hadn’t factored into her plans.
