“And how is this helping?” Bex demanded, pointing at the random piles of chains they’d just been so righteously melting into slag. “The Wrath of Ishtar shouldn’t be wasted on useless temper tantrums. I need this fire for burning Gilgamesh, not trashing the Hells while my people are still trapped inside! The witch is right. It’s over. Now give me back my body!”
The Bonfire roared and tried to pull away, but Bex didn’t let it. Just as Drox had taught her in Limbo, she wrestled the flames into submission. Her own magic fought her for every inch, but Bex had already learned this lesson. She knew that wrath was not rage. Rage was the inferno that destroyed everything, but wrath was directed. Wrath had purpose.Shehad purpose. The same dedication that had allowed her to walk out of the void of her lost name strengthened her hands now, giving Bex the edge as she wrestled the Bonfire lower and lower, smaller and smaller until it was just her again, one body burning like a candle in the black cavern of Gilgamesh’s Hells.
She snuffed the last lick of fire herself, closing her one remaining good hand over it in a fist to save the flames for later, because therewouldbe a later. The Bonfire of Wrath was hers again. Always had been, really, but Bex was no longer too deep in her own misery to feel it. She might not have her horns back yet, but Bex’s fire was once again hers to call whenever she needed it. That felt like a miracle, but it was one she understood.The miracle in front of her, however, was almost more than Bex could process.
He was already running up to meet her. She’d known that Adrian was in the Hells, but it still felt impossible that he could just be… just behere, smiling in front of her. She’d expected to have to pry him free of Gilgamesh with her teeth, but he didn’t seem to have any chains or slave marks, not even a chaperone. Other than his new mirrored eyes—which were creepy, but still close enough to his usual blue-gray that Bex could square the difference in her mind—Adrian looked just like he had the morning she’d picked him up from the airport. He was really here, whole and safe and alive right in front of her, and she… she…
“Adrian,” Bex whispered, stumbling forward. “Adrian!”
She fell into him with a sob. She didn’t know when she’d started crying, but her face was suddenly soaked with ashy tears, which was ridiculous because she wasn’t sad. She was happy. So,sodamn happy that after everything they’d been through, everything they’d lost, he was finally here with her. Even Lys hadn’t made it over yet, but Adrian must’ve run straight to her, and that made Bex so happy she could burst. She knew they were still in enemy territory and she needed to get a grip, but she couldn’t make her arms let go. It just felt so right to finally be next to him again, which was why it felt so wrong when Adrian took her by her shoulders and shoved her away.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Adrian’s hands shook as he pushed Bex away from him. The shaking got even worse when she stared up at him with her lovely eyes—the real Bex’s beautiful, fiery eyes—full of hurt and confusion. She was looking at him like he’d just pulled the plug on a miracle, which was a hundred percent accurate. Thiswasa miracle—them being here together, the fire that had defeatedthe princess, the fact that any of this was happening at all—but Adrian couldn’t let her run to him like that. Not until he told her…
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Bex demanded, glaring at him like this was a joke in very poor taste. “Adrian, you werekidnapped. Boston told us what happened. You’ve got nothing to apologize for.”
“Yes, I do,” he insisted, determined to tell her the truth and be the person she thought he was. “Gilgamesh didn’t kidnap me out of nowhere. I went to him.”
“He tricked you,” Bex argued, glancing around his shoulder at Boston, who was still crouching on Bran’s broom handle where Adrian had jumped off a good fifty feet away, staying the hell out of this. “Like I said, Boston told us—”
“Boston doesn’t know everything,” Adrian said. “He’s my familiar and my friend. It’s his job to think the best of me, but I’m the idiot who let himself get tricked. I allowed my desperation and ego to override the common sense that is the core of witchcraft. I was taught to see things as they are, not as I want them to be, but I was so desperate to get out of the trap I’d put us in that I ate up everything Gilgamesh fed me. I took the easy power, took the quintessence. I thought I was better than the average person, that I could handle it, but I ended up under Heaven’s boot just like every other idiot sorcerer before me. My ego put us all in danger. I putyouin danger. If I’d stayed at the Anchor and helped you instead of trying to outsmart the rules, everything would’ve been different. I’m the reason we’re in this situation, and I’m sorry.” He squeezed his fist around the severed hand he was still clutching. “I am so,sosorry, Bex.”
He didn’t dare look at her after that, but she was still close enough for Adrian to feel her long sigh.
“Maybe it would’ve been different,” she admitted. “But you’re not the only one who got tricked. Heaven played me too, so if we’re apologizing, I’m also sorry that I piled so much on you. It wasn’t your responsibility to fix the locked Anchor problem all by yourself, but I got caught up in my own stuff and left you in the lurch. You turned to Gilgamesh because you were desperate, but I’m the one who left you alone with your back against the wall.”
“Only because I volunteered,” Adrian reminded her angrily. “Attacking the Anchors was my idea, if you’ll recall. I told you I could handle it, and then, when it turned out I couldn’t, I panicked and jumped right into Gilgamesh’s trap. This whole disaster could’ve been avoided if I’d just owned my mistakes and told you I was wrong, but I didn’t want to admit I couldn’t do it. I was a cocky, impatient fool who made the wrong choice at every turn. If I’d been thinking even a little, I never would have—”
“I don’t care,” Bex snapped, reaching up to rub the ash off her face, which was even paler than he remembered. She looked absolutely exhausted, but before Adrian could work himself into a fresh frenzy of guilt over that, Bex continued.
“I don’t care if you could’ve done it better,” she said, her voice heating with the passionate, loving anger he’d never heard in the princess’s voice. “There’s no such thing as a perfect fight. Everyone goes to war with the army they’ve got. We all have to make field decisions based on imperfect information, but no matter how much you think you’ve messed up, there’s still nobody I’d rather have at my side. So if you’re done telling me how much you suck, I’d really like a hug. It’s been averyhard week, and you would not believe how much I’ve missed you.”
“I think I might,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “Because I missed you just as much.”
He felt her smile through his shirt, and Adrian pressed his face against the top of her hornless head. Great Forest, he really was bad at this boyfriend thing. Here he was shoveling his guilt onto her when all Bex wanted was comfort. She deserved better, and Adrian was determined tobebetter. He’d be a true partner to her from this moment forward, starting with the healing he should have done as soon as he ran over.
“Here,” he said, pulling away just enough to offer Bex her hand. “Let’s get this back where it belongs.”
“I don’t know if it’ll make a difference,” she told him tiredly. “I already tried calling Drox, but he’s not answering. I don’t think he’ll be able to hear me until I get my name back.”
“You still want your hand, though, right?” Adrian asked, arching an eyebrow. “Hundred-foot pillars of fire notwithstanding, having two hands is pretty useful.”
“Of course I want it back,” Bex said, her cheeks coloring beautifully before she went pale again. “I just don’t know if it’ll return. That’s the hand Gilgamesh used to make his princess. What if it’s as unresponsive as Drox?”
“There’s nothing Gilgamesh can do that I can’t undo,” Adrian told her with the same cockiness that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. The risk was worth it this time, though, because Bex looked so upset.
“I can do this,” he promised, looking straight into her bright eyes. “Trust me.”
“I do,” she said in a tiny voice. “How could I not at this point? You’ve healed the unhealable twice now, it’s just… that’s my sword hand.”
She finished with a pointed look, but Adrian didn’t understand. “So?”
“So, if I go back with two hands and Drox’s ring on my finger, people are going to expect me to be the full Queen of Wrath again,” Bex explained. “Fire is a good start, but adivine blade is proof of Ishtar’s blessing. It was one thing when Gilgamesh had it, but if I’ve got Drox and still can’t use him, what does that say about me? What if people stop believing I’m Rebexa?”
“Bex,” Adrian said, biting back a smile. “You just lit up this entire cavern with a gigantic pillar of fire. I’m pretty sure people are going to believe you’re the Bonfire of Wrath, and IknowDrox would be much happier sleeping on your finger than he would be in my pocket.”
