“Alive,” Keres said quietly. “But hurt. He won’t be leading anyone on his own two feet anytime soon. He pushed too far, trying to get his people back here before the fire…”
The memory of the dissenters’ faces flashed across my mind. Fear. Disgust. The way they’d called me demon-touched.
“Do they still want to follow me?” I asked.
Keres’ mouth twisted. “Most saw the Obsidian camp burn and decided they don’t care what gifts you carry so long as they’re pointed in the right direction.”
“And Brist?” I asked, rage burning hot in my gut.
“Dealt with,” Keres said quietly.
“Taron too,” Slade said. “A shame. If we’d had more time, I would have made it last. A quick death is more than they deserved.”
“After their brothers’ betrayal, I don’t think the others will be eager to confront you again,” Keres added.
That should have made me feel better.
It didn’t.
“I lost control,” I said slowly.
Slade tilted his head. “You unleashed the kind of power that levels armies. That tends to be messy.”
I pressed a hand to my throat. The skin around the rune was tender, as if it had been burned from the inside out. “I didn’t choose how far it went. Or who it took. I was… feeding, and the magic just kept pulling and pulling. If I hadn’t burned out?—”
“You’d have taken more,” Keres finished. “Maybe all of it. Maybe us.”
Her honesty cut—but I needed it.
“And this is why Rydian doesn’t want you opening the gate just yet,” Slade added. “Not because he thinks you’re weak. Because he knows you’re strong enough to break everything if you’re not careful. Including yourself.”
The thought of the Midnight gate—of that much power crashing up against the thing I’d just felt in the camp—made my stomach turn.
Whatever else I’d felt out there. The voice that had whispered through me, claiming all those lives, all that power, it wasn’t my own. And it wasn’t a part of my furyfire or my Makarios gifts. I wasn’t sure I was ready to know what else had risen in me. A third gift, though it felt much heavier—like a curse. One I hadn’t been able to control in the end.
Rydian had been right about me.
I dragged in a breath, forcing my pulse to slow.
“All right,” I said. “We’ll find our way back through the tunnels. And get Lesha and Eirnan somewhere they can recover.”
Slade nodded once, relief flickering in his eyes like he’d been bracing for me to say something far more reckless. “Music to my ears, Princess.”
Keres pushed to her feet, flexing stiff fingers. Shadows flickered faintly around them, thin as smoke. “I’m going to check Eirnan’s bandages before we move. He’ll want to speak to you before we go deeper.”
When she went to tend the others, Slade stayed, watching me with that annoying, perceptive gaze that meant he knew too much and said too little.
“You should hate me,” I said quietly.
He blinked. “For what?”
“For burning half a valley. For almost destroying our only way out. For…” My chest tightened. “For maybe getting your prince killed.”
Slade shrugged. “To be fair, he made that a group effort. And you didn’t kill him. Your friendship with the naiad saved him.” He paused. “Also, Aurelia? You just crippled Heliconia’s army. That’s the kind of thing bards are going to sing about for centuries, assuming there’s any courts left to sing in.”
“It still doesn’t free my court,” I said. “Or stop her.”
“One battle was never going to fix any of this,” he said. “Or one girl. Even if she happens to fight like a demon-god’s daughter.” His mouth quirked. “This?” He gestured to the cave, to us. “This was a start.”
