I sidle up to Tansy. ‘Can anything be done?’
Tansy shakes her head but doesn’t meet my eye.
Blayze is murmuring the same soothing words in Flametongue as before: a lullaby, a prayer, I’m not sure which. He strokes Serafine with heart-aching tenderness, till ruddy plumes of smoke rise from her ruined body, and she crumbles into embers in his arms.
A howl rips through the cave. Blayze stares, hollow-eyed, at the flecks of ash staining his now empty hands. I know this pain, remember how it ought to feel; that visceral wrench when I left Orthriel in Nimbi. And I had the hope of reunion to bolster me – I’ve taken Serafine from Blayze forever.
I look at my hands. The spotless silver skin taunts me. They ought to be stained like his, only with blood instead of ash. This isn’t like the guards in that avalanche; I knew the consequences of saving my mother. They’re truly a killer’s hands now, and yet the knowledge doesn’t cut me as it should – a mild ache in place of a rending pain. As if the core of my heart has yet to thaw, is still a thing of ice.
Another cry. Sharper this time. My head snaps up.
It’s Blayze. His hands are on fire.
Maris screams, rushes towards him as crimson tongues lick his palms. The flames swell, twist, transmute into the shape of an emberwing, then gutter out. Something clatters to the ground. Blayze doesn’t move, just sits there, lips curling in horror. But then he bends, picks up a lump of smouldering metal, handling it like it’s no more than blood temperature. It’s an effigy of Serafine.
Fireweaver.
Somehow, Blayze can wield Flame-Aether now. Metalbend too. An effect of the blood rite? A parting gift from Serafine? Stars only know…
He won’t let anyone touch him. Maris tries several times, but he shrinks back. When Tansy offers to treat the wounds on his face, he whirls on her. He sits alone, cradling the effigy to his chest, rocking backwards and forwards.
He won’t want to hear me, but I have to try and explain.
I close the gap between us, hovering at his shoulder. My heart pounds as I lick my lips, as I summon the courage to speak.
‘Blayze, I—’
His expression as he lifts his gaze to my face shrivels my tongue. His eyes hold no fire, no accusation – they’re cold as flint. As if I mean nothing to him. As if I never did.
‘I might have done the same thing in your place,’ he snarls. ‘But you swore me an oath and you broke it, and I have lost the creature that loved me best. You know what she was to me.’ His chest heaves.
The snag in his voice is a knife to my gut. But the blade is dull, inflicting a flesh wound rather than a killing blow.
‘Blayze, I—’
‘I won’t hear another word from your lying lips. I was a fool to expect better from Starspawn.’
Blayze stands.
‘It’s over.’
He elbows past me, hobbling towards the mouth of the cave. I consider going after him, trying again to explain. But what is there to explain? I made him a promise. I broke my word. Again.
Maris follows him instead, flashing me a weak smile as she leaves. Delphine, as usual, is only a few steps behind her, clutching her bloodied shoulder.
I sink to the floor.
Tansy places a hand on my back. ‘He’s grieving, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. He’ll calm down, just give him time.’
I crane my neck. Something like fear flickers in Tansy’s eyes as she looks down at me.
She’s trying to be kind, but I know better. Blayze will never forgive me for this.
I can’t forget his parting words, and the stony expression on his face as he uttered them. I would have preferred if he’d raged at me; his words cut deeper because they were so measured. They weren’t said in a moment of passion. He meant them.
And what of the Quaternity? Is that over too? Will he destroy our chances of finding the other sceptres now, of curing the Sickening?
It’s then I realise he didn’t actually say it was over. Not aloud, at least.
