He shook his head. “I’m not to leave you alone, nor do I possess the magic necessary to ferry your friends back and forth at my leisure. I need to maintain my strength….”
“In case,” I repeated back to him. “You need to be able to stop me.”
“I need to stand a chance at delaying you.”
“We could wait for them.” I knew the words were foolish before they even left my mouth. The next time Zaelos gained control of me would be the last. It wasn’t a risk we could take.
“For what it’s worth, you’re not the worst Human I’ve encountered.” Ah, there was the Jyuri I remembered.
I rolled my eyes. “We both know I’m barely Human.” I patted his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, you’re not the worst Fae I’ve encountered.”
He actually laughed at that—a true, genuine laugh. “Yes, I think you lot have started to ruin my temperament. Once all this is over, I’ll need a long time away in the Winter Court to fix myself.”
I took a deep breath, nodding my head. “Thank you, Jyuri.”
Without another word, I moved towards the pool of silver and knelt down in front of it. Peering at my reflection, I saw the same Nairu as the last time I’d looked into the Soulseer. Hair as pure and white as bottled moonlight, eyes red and glowing with raw, godly power. She was everything I could become, were my soul not tangled and twisted with another’s.
You’ve returned, the familiar voice whispered in my mind.
What fate has written has come to pass. The flower of two souls returns to sever her root. But what will she become?
I reached forth, dipping my hand into the silver reflection. It was like forcing my way through something not entirely liquid, and not entirely solid. At first, there was resistance, but then it became a pull, urging me deeper—like a siren to a sailor. A song wholly unnatural. Irresistible. Promising gifts beyond my comprehension.
The Soulseer had once gifted me my lost memories, the power of which had nearly shattered me. What would it gift me now?
I relinquished my hand from the pool and stood, sucking in a deep breath. One foot at a time, I walked out to the middle. I stood and waited, feeling myself sink bit by bit and forcing myself not to panic. The deeper I sank, the less I could move my body, until I was down to my shoulders, completely immobile, my heart hammering in my chest.
When the silver met my chin, I held my breath and closed my eyes. Several long moments passed before the water fully submerged me, my chest ready to burst from the strain. But once I thought I could no longer stand the pressure and I’d all but resigned myself to take a breath and let the silver floodmy lungs, there was the sensation of free-falling through a vast nothingness.
The fear of drowning transformed into a fear far worse. Was there an end to this empty void? I couldn’t see my hands in front of me. I screamed, but heard no sound. Yes, this was far worse. This was true torture. This was death, I was sure.
Once more, when my hope was razor-thin, I hit the bottom. A free fall of that length should have shattered my bones and turned me to dust, but I’d landed softly on my feet. There was hard ground beneath me, but still, all was black. At least now, I could see in front of myself.
I walked and walked onward through the darkness. I had no known destination, yet that invisible pull still urged me endlessly onward. Time had ceased to exist. I may have been walking for days, months, years. There was no way of knowing for certain how long or far I’d traveled. I only knew once I’d arrived, for I felt a power unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
A deep voice startled me to turn around. One I would recognize anywhere, for how often it haunted me. “Welcome to my cage, dear.”
His name left my lips in a hushed whisper. Not fear, nor revere—only acknowledgment of the monster who’d ruined my life hundreds of years ago. “Zaelos.”
“Saintess. You are here to kill me.”
“I am here to take back what’s mine.”
He smiled, showing too many teeth. “You know I am not your end. You will not find peace in death. Slay the monster, and you become one.”
Perhaps. The little sliver of godly magic he’d stolen from the Faerie Queen might corrupt me. Drunk on power, I might give in to my most basic desires—end up no better than him. It was that possibility which had led me to nearly give up. But if I gave him what he wanted—full control over me—it was a certainty that he would destroy everything I’d ever loved. I would take the chance on myself a thousand times before I let that happen.
“I’m willing to become what I must.”
Zaelos clapped his hands together in mock applause. “How honorable of you. The people who supposedly love you may not feel the same, considering they left that little Fae Lord to slayyou the moment you emerged from the Soulseer.” He sneered. “Clever, to bring us here, by the way.”
My fingers tightened into fists on the hem of my shirt. “Jyuri is there should I fail to remove you.”
“Is that what he told you?” Zaelos snickered. “You think that filthy lapdog of the Queen has any intention of letting you take another breath when you rise with her magic unbound within you? You’re a reminder of his failures. Only your death can right his mistakes.” He brought a finger to his lips. “Although he might return you to gain her favor. If that’s the case, you’ll wish you were dead. The bit of magic I stole won’t hold a candle to the full extent of her power within the Fae realm.”
“Which is why you settled on destroying Lustria.” I took a step closer. “Because you were too weak to make it in your own realm.”
“Lustria is a necessary stepping stone. I need worshippers to grow this power of mine. Our ideas of destruction are vastly different. My followers would be blessed.”
