She died because she said she loved us, but she can’t stay away. Perhaps… she exists in the next life with regret. Perhaps she discovered that living for her children was more important than dying for us. What I had imagined as being selfless for Mikal and me was really… selfish for everyone else. Especially Teo.
And then, I understood one thing with stark clarity. It robs the final flickers of stabbing pain from rippling through me.
I don’t want to die for my brother or baby or mate.
I crave glowing crystals and intimate moments, luminescent pools and the smell of stone, cries and laughter andaging—but darkness is already creeping in, leaving behind the image of the card of death.
Chapter 44
Richterite
TEO
“Estela!” I scream as we beat against the door to the great manor.
My wife. My babe.
I take my sword and attempt to dig it into the dark fog-covered wood, but we are blown back. My body rattles as we hit the ground, and a dark figure appears out of another cloud of billowing mist. The smoke stings my face.
“Godsdamnit,” Vann grunts, sitting up next to me.
The remains of the slave’s rebellion and escape are scattered around us along with the evidence of our long fighting. At first glance, all of our troops have retreated. “King of the Enduares,” the cloaked black figure says, holding a baby in her arms.
I charge forward, sword pointed as Vann also gets to his feet. “Take me back to Estela!”
She holds up a hand and a wall of mist wraps around my weapon, tearing it away.
“I will not fight you this time,” she says. “Though I have not forgotten what happened to our sssisters.”
A snake curls around her neck, flicking its tongue toward the crying baby.
I shouldn’t care for that child. It’s the enemy…
And yet my heart breaks for it.
My fingers twitch to take it away. I can’t watch him die here.
“Teo,” Vann says, low voice full of warning.
As if sensing my thoughts, the witch raises the babe.
“The deal that bonded us to the giant king is over. I have no use for this little one, yet. Consider the baby a peace offering since you have been taking care of the Light Weaver’s daughter.”
I don’t wish to move, fearing the trap.
Sound from all around us begins to stir as the woman’s fingers begin to twist and contort.
I look around to see a sea of undead rising to their feet, just like the cold ones. Their gaping wounds turn grey as their unseeing eyes snap open, red as blood.
“Gods damn them all,” Vann exclaims, diving for his cleaver.
I also curse, watching the ugly creatures take ragged steps forward. Grabbing another weapon, I hold out the blade, ready to cut down each undead with Vann at my side.
“Take him as a gift or we will ensure he joins our army,” the witch says.
That causes me to pause.
“I accept,” I say, my grip on the sword loosening.
