My bones seemed to creak. I tasted my own blood as it ran from my nostrils, as it coated my tongue.
And I focused on breathing.Breathing. One moment into the next. That was all I needed.Just one more moment.
A moment for Wrune. A moment for Tess. And then I thought of the countless members of the horde, who I knew Valavik was shepherding beyond the new stretch of the fog, a place that it could not reach. They’d found a break in it, towards the western edge. Hukri had been the last to leave. And only when I begged her, with tears streaming from my eyes, had she finally left.
Safe. They were safe.
Yet, Wrune had not returned.
I just needed to be patient. Which was so difficult when it felt like one’s soul was being plucked from one’s body. Piece by piece. Bit by bit.
But then I reached that place where I felt nothing at all. Only relief.
Then came the whispers. Whispers in an ancient language that I could somehow understand, though I had never heard it before in my entire life.
Whispers that sounded like they came from thousands, if not millions, of voices, joining as one. And I understood what they asked of me. They asked for my sacrifice. Theyaskedme to suffer. Because I had to. In their voices, I had the realization that Wrune had been right. I had beenchosenfor a reason. I had been given this gift for a reason, though at this moment, my gift felt more like a curse.
I had been chosen for a greater purpose. I had been chosen toprotect.
A protector.
All I’d ever wanted to be.
The voices asked me to endure. Theyaskedme if I could endure it.
And though my own sob nearly choked me, as an inkling of the pain began to trail down my arms, sliding into my veins and funneling into my stiffening body, I gave them my answer.
The relief faded. Piece by piece.
Nausea rose. My mind throbbed. My limbs felt like they’d been pulled apart.
But something strange happened. Though there was pain, there wasn’tstrain. The strain and stretch and thelimitplaced on my barrier, which kept the fog at bay, had vanished.
My breath whooshed out of my lungs. And I understood. I understood that if I could endure the pain, my power would be strong. It would be strong enough for the horde. It would be strong enough for Wrune.
A voice was speaking to me but my eyes were unseeing.
“Morakkari,” came the word again. That familiar word. “Morakkari, where are you going?”
My head turned. Through the blur of my tears, I saw a figure take shape. Familiar.
Valavik. And he was on hispyroki.
“The horde?” I rasped.
“All have made it beyond the fog’s edge. It stretches a mile west and then stops, just like before.”
I closed my eyes as it felt like a dagger was twisting in my mind. A small relief. At least the horde was safe.
“Where are you going?” he demanded.
“To him.”
It was then I realized that I was walking, though it didn’t feel like my feet were connecting with the ground. I saw I was already halfway to the Dead Mountain. How long had it been?
The expression on thepujerak’sface was grim. He reached down his arm. “Then I will go with you.”
“You cannot touch me,” I told him through gritted teeth. “Or yourpyroki.”
