“Come on then,” he shouted.
The sword sang as it left the sheath, gleaming cold as moonlight.
The thing emerged, oil leaking from the sky. Its shape a pretended form, long arms and no face, just a mouth that opened across its entire head, jagged and hungry.
Kael didn’t hesitate.
He moved like smoke and vengeance, his blade cleaving through its shrieking limbs. It didn’t fall. They never fell easy. Not now. Not with the Veil breaking open in seams.
It lunged again, this time faster, one hand catching his shoulder with a rip of tearing leather and skin.
Kael hissed, shadows exploding from him in a spiral of fury. The creature wailed as they tore into its form, unraveling it thread by thread until only ash remained.
He stood panting in the aftermath, blood soaking into the bandages, breath like fire in his lungs.
But he didn’t stop.
He staggered forward, forcing himself to keep walking. Past the rise of the cliffs. Toward the river path that would eventually lead through the salt plains taking him deeper into Calanthe and toward Nerium.
He could feel her ahead, like a phantom limb.
Not the bond. That was gone.
But something deeper still. Some old thread of want.
He didn’t know what he would say when he saw her again.
Didn’t know if she’d let him speak at all.
But he’d made her a promise once, knees weak —hands shaking. He’d promised to protect her. And he had failed. Again and again.
So now he would make a different vow.
He would not let the gods or kings have her.
Not Eiren. Not Alarik. Not Thauren.
And if she told him to leave?
If she turned from him, crowned and burning and holy?
Then he would go.
But not without telling her the truth.
Not without saying everything.
Not without begging for forgiveness.
Chapter fifty-five
Near the Shadow
-Maris-
Serenya was hunched over the railing again.
Maris tried not to laugh as she stepped around her, she mostly succeeded. The once-fearless warrior had now become a cautionary tale of what happens when pride meets sea travel.
