Soulsleaked from metal and stone.
“Iplaced the tip of the knife,” Berith said, “to your chest, at an angle, tobypass the sternum.It would be a simple puncture, straight to the heart.”
Thefemur drifted down from his neck, carving a shallow laceration across hiscollarbone.It settled on his chest.The angle shifted.If he struck now, thebone would stab straight through the protection of rib and sternum.Isaac felthis heart pounding against the sharpened bone.
Behindhis uncle, something moved.
“I wasready to do it,” Berith said.“I would not falter again.”
The tipof the femur pressed down towards his heart, almost breaking the skin.
“Butyou woke up, and you saw me hovering above you, and when you looked at me....”Berith looked at him now, as if his memory was as clear as the present.“Your eyes were blue, just like mine.”
Thefemur quivered at his chest.
“Andyou smiled, and you reached for me, and your little....”His voice cracked.He took a breath.“Your fingers wrapped around mine, around the knife I wasplacing to your chest, and you looked at me, and you said ‘father’.”
Berith’seyes stopped glowing.All at once, the students slumped to the floor, theirmagical elements disappearing like the snuffing of a candle.
“Thatwas your first word.You called me your father.”
For thefirst time since entering the tomb, his uncle’s eyes were normal again,untinged by any corruptive magic.
“Howcould I kill my own son?”
AtIsaac’s chest, the femur fell away, clattering on the ancient stone.
Nothingseparated the two.Berith looked Isaac up and down, taking in the details of hisface, his injuries, his tattered robes, the dagger still clutched tightly inhis hand.After a moment, he lifted his head, gazing over the expanse of thecolossus.
He gavea shuddering sigh.
“I’msorry, Isaac.What I did to you....”
Berith’sform began to be eclipsed by a larger one, sprinting from behind.
“I wasangry.Gods, I was bitter.”He blinked, and his cheeks glistened with tears.“Ishould’ve never....”
Hestopped.Isaac wasn’t sure if he heard the footsteps, or if he saw theexpression of guilt and terror on his nephew’s face.Either way, his eyeswidened, and he began to turn, his arms spinning through a spell.
Zariagored Berith with her captain’s sword, impaling him with such charging forcethat he was lifted clear off his feet.With a snarl, she slowed herself, liftedhis entire body by the edge of the blade, and slammed him to the ground, tryingto wrench her weapon free.She stomped a foot on his chest, yanking the hiltlike a lever, ignoring Berith’s desperate, flailing grabs.After a few wetjerks, the cutlass was sucked from the flesh, shining a bright red in the harshlight of the sun.
Berithremained on the floor, choking and reaching.Zaria raised the sword again,preparing to plunge.
“Stop!”Isaac shouted.“Stop!”
Shepaused, mostly by surprise.Isaac attempted to run, but he put too much weighton his burned leg, and he collapsed into the sand, gasping in agony, managingonly to crawl on his hands and knees.Ahead, Berith clutched at his chest,giving wet and rattling gasps.Bones tumbled from the air.His thralls slumpedlike discarded dolls.
Isaacfell to his uncle’s side.Berith reached out, gripping his arm.There weredesperate, whistling breaths.A gargle of blood.
Anatomydiagrams.
Lungs.Heart.
Trauma.
Zariahad pierced a lung.Berith was going to drown in his own blood, unless theblood could drain from the pleural cavity.How to do it?
Intubation.
