“I have no regrets,” he says calmly.
“Callum—”
“I will love you even in death.”
A deep-rooted ache tears through my tightening chest, and I grapple for that power Briony has been coaching me to use. If I can just get a hold of it. If I can figure out how to wield the flames, I can maybe,maybeget us out of here.
Please, gods. Please Agryna. Please.
At first, nothing happens. Callum’s muscles are taut as he’s held firmly by the soldiers, as Eefa’s knife remains against his skin. But then Iywan raises a hand. Everything slows as Eefa carves a deliberate line across his throat. I scream for her to stop, as if it would do anything to staunch the blood that rushes down his neck and drenches his livery.
The coward that I am, I shut my eyes. I don’t want this to be my last image of him. I don’t want to witness the life drained from his body. A nauseating gurgle emits from where he stood before a heavythudsounds.
Each forceful beat of my heart pumps remorse and sorrow into my blood, until my body is so heavy that I’m certain I’ll sink right through the chair. There is no sound except for the screaming in my head and the roaring of my pulse in my ears.
When I dare to open my eyes again, Callum is slumped on the floor. A puddle of scarlet spreads around him.
First Ellynne …
Now … Callum …
Guilt, regret, and sorrow wrench tears from me, the silent sobs trapped in my heaving chest, threatening to strangle me. A surge of nausea rushes up from my stomach. I hunch over in the chair as bile scorches its way out of my throat.
Briony steps toward me, and I don’t even feel her touch before merciful darkness takes me.
CHAPTER 64
Durvla
We siton the side of the road and munch on underripe strawberries as Alys briefs us on entering the Verge. She draws an image in the dirt with a stick, showing mountains and a forest, then she makes a line at the base of the mountain. “This is the entrance. It’sheavilywarded. In fact, anyone entering without the proper knowledge of how will be torn apart by the wards.”
I make a face. “As inliterallytorn apart?”
Alys glances up at me, sternness on her face. “Yes.” She draws three Xs beneath the line, each a small distance apart. “The runes have to be drawn here, here, and here, with the enchantments spoken at each. Very old magic. It’s all written down on a scroll in my pack—in case for some reason I’m unable to do it. Once beyond the wards, there are guards trained to kill on sight. Immediately take a knee andlower your gaze. It’s a sign of reverence. It sounds complicated, but for good reason, of course.”
“Of course,” Chiyo agrees.
A strange, metallic taste suddenly fills my mouth and colors dance before me. My limbs grow heavy, and I must make a sound or something because everyone turns to me.
“Durvla? Are you alright?” Osheen signs. My focus darts between his concerned face and then Kilkenny’s.
Still crouching, Kilkenny moves closer, his focus on me as he urgently calls to Alys. “She’s going to?—”
Then the world around me whirls and morphs.
By the time the world stops warping, I find myself standing in dark tunnels again. I gag from the wringing in my gut and swallow hard. This time, I don’t try to run. I drop to my knees and press my hands against my ears to block out the screams.
Why is this happening? Why can’t I control it? I want to join in the screaming—out of frustration, out of helplessness. When I want to dreamwalk, I can’t? When I least expect it?—
Pain lances through my leg, my arms, my face. Everything hurts, and soon I’m sobbing right along with a disembodied voice.
This is a dream, I remind myself. Not my dream but a dream, nonetheless. I pull my hands from my ears and try to gauge my surroundings. A candle flickers in the distance. That must be my exit. I struggle to my feet, ignoring the aches, and hobble toward the candle. “Carys!” I call, assuming this is her dreamscape. “If you can hear me, please answer.”
Nothing.
More howls of pain come from her, wherever she is. Moments like these make me grateful that I usually exist in silence. Carys’s screams hurt even worse than the phantom pain attacking my body. “Carys! Think of yourself somewhere else! Anywhere else. Far away from the pain. Carys?”
The screams stop, but I barely have a moment of relief before pressure builds in my head. I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing the heels of my hands against my temples. A breeze brushes my cheeks, and when I open my eyes, I’m on a boat. Carys stands at the bow, gazing out at the ocean.
