Flames fill the front half of the cavern—where my blade first struck stone—and they’re burning hungrily toward us, devouring the bagrava we laid out in a convenient pathway. I thank Earth Mother the smoke from this part of the plant isn’t noxious as it billows around us, invading our eyes, noses, and mouths, The last thing I need right now is to lose my senses.
“Indira!” Delphine cries, spinning frantically. “What do we do?”
I scan the cave for branching tunnels that might lead to another entrance. I study the walls and floor for crevasses that might be deep enough to take cover in. But if there’s a place to take shelter from the inferno, I can’t see it through the thickening haze. My lungs feel coated in soot, and my vision swims. When I try to scream, I’m gripped by a pummeling cough.
It’s one thing for Alaric and me to perish in this cave—the final battle of the war our people have been waging for years—but Delphine doesn’t deserve to die like this. She wasn’t supposed to be here at all.
I cough into my cloak, and it gives me an idea. Yanking the ties loose, I drop to my knees and spread the fabric out across the damp rocks, pressing it into the little puddles until it’s heavy with water. Then I lift it up and swing the cloak over Delphine’s head and shoulders.
“Run!” I tell her. “Go back the way we came in. You might get a few burns on your legs, but the wet cloak should shield you from the worst of it.”
“What about you?” she yells. We both look down at the drippingcloak. The only one we have, since Delphine and Alaric are accustomed to the cold.
“If I have to burn alive, at least he’ll die with me.” I nod back at Alaric, still curled into a trembling ball. “And Rowenna will be avenged.”
And I’ll finally be with her, I realize. The thing I’ve wanted most since the Vanzadorians returned her in that box.
I close my eyes and try to picture our reunion in the Great Fields Beyond, but the image is blurred and distorted, making it impossible to tell if I’m dissolving into her embrace or shoving her away. I’m still so furious about her lies and deception—how she manipulated and controlled me—but she isn’t the only one who lied to me. And I know, deep down, everything she did was out of love. She was fighting for Tashir and me in the only way she knew how. We’ll have eternity to mend what was broken and find our way back to each other.
“I won’t leave you,” Delphine says.
“You have to. Think of Cloudia.”
Her eyes well with tears. She holds my gaze for a few excruciating seconds then says, “I’m so sorry, Indira. I wish I could go back and do so many things differently. You weren’t supposed to be so—”
“Go!” I shove her toward the fire.
With a ragged cry, Delphine stumbles forward, screaming as she runs through the smoke and flames.
I send a prayer up to Earth Mother, begging her to protect my friend. Then I wipe my tears on my wrist and return my attention to Alaric, who’s still lying on the ground, shielding his face with his arm.
“Are you going to confess before we die?” I shout over the crackle and whoosh of the fire.
“I have nothing to confess—other than my love for you,” he chokes out.
It’s so sappy and ridiculous, I scream, “Stop it! Just stop with all of these lies and games, and let me die in peace.”
I drop to the ground and lie on my back—making the cave mymakeshift funeral pyre.
“What are youdoing?” Alaric finally gets up and stomps over, yanking me up by my arm.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I strain against his grip, waving the knife wildly behind me, cursing this infuriating boy who is always complicating everything. “I’d rather die than be part of your tyranny!”
Alaric wrestles the knife from my grip and tucks it into his belt. Then he clutches me tight against his chest. The sweat dripping down my back fuses with his sweat-soaked jacket, cementing us together.
“What are you talking about?” His breath is hot against my ear, even hotter than the fire. “You’rethe one who turned onme, remember?”
“Only because you betrayed me first!”
“I never betrayed you!” Alaric tries to yell, but he’s gripped by a violent cough. “Give me the chain, and I’ll get us out of here,” he rasps.
I shake my head. “I’d rather perish.”
“No, you wouldn’t. The bagrava smoke is clearly addling your senses.”
“The cuttings don’t induce hallucinations. They have no magical properties at all!”
Alaric lets out a bewildered laugh that sounds more like a cry. “Please, Indira. You know I deserve to see the memory.” He slides his hand down my arm, grasping for the chain, but his fingers are too slick with sweat to pry mine apart.
