His words barely reach me. Something deeper than thought pulls me forward. I reach out, fingers trembling, and brush them against the firebird’s flank. They’re softer than I expect, and warm, despite the mountain air.
And that’s when it hits me, like a hammer against the chest. Something dark and unseen is hovering nearby, crawling its fingers over the firebird, already trying to claim what remains of her. I recoil, gasping. I’ve touched nearly fifty bodies in my time with the Order, and none have ever felt like this. They were already gone, so I never felt death’s hunger.
Nausea burns in the back of my throat. It feelswrong.
“Swynwraig?” Taliesin asks from behind me, his voice troubled.
“She’s dying. I have to do something.” All I can manage is a whisper as I hold out my wrist. “Remove my chains.”
He does as I ask, to my surprise. He gently lifts my unbound wrist and slides a key into the manacle. A moment later, the iron falls away, and the cool touch of wind brushes soothingly across my skin. The relief is nearly disorienting.
“Careful,” he warns.
But it’s as if my hands have a mind of their own. They press more tightly against the firebird’s flank, andthere, beneath my palms, I can feel the unsteady thud of her heartbeat beneathher ribs. Something calls to the magic inside me—something I’ve never felt before—and burns so brightly I gasp. And suddenly, I know what to do, even though it feels like madness.
“Ewch ymaith,” I whisper. “Buddugoliaeth dros farwolaeth.”
Victory over death.
My magic surges through me, pouring from my fingers into the bird. It roars in my ears like the wind through the ridge, like the world itself is splintering apart. I grit my teeth and lean into it, forcing my hands to remain steady on the creature.
Somewhere deep inside me, another memory shatters.
The pain of its loss cuts into my soul like a blade.
Pain detonates behind my eyes, like someone is running a sword through my skull. My legs tremble. My knees buckle into the carpet of twigs. And still, beneath it all, I understand. I’ve stopped the darkness from taking the firebird, and it’sfurious. The pain, this horrible loss, is a punishment.
There’s no way to fight it. No training for what happens when magic demands payment from flesh and soul.
Somewhere nearby, Bryn hisses, a high keening sound caught in her throat. Taliesin’s arms come around me from behind, and he pulls me into his chest, like he can shield me against death itself. He holds me as though he’s done it before in another life, and my body leans into him like it remembers something I do not. The world stills around us.
And then suddenly, the pain vanishes. Like the darkness has given up.
I sag against Taliesin, spent. It doesn’t matter that he’s my enemy, or that the Order sent me here to end him. Whatever Taliesin Wynn is, he is nothing compared to that shadowed thing that hunts for souls. A thing I have now angered.
Trembling, I pull back and look up into his face. Concern tightens his mouth, but there’s no shock in it.
“You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?” I ask shakily.
He exhales, like the question costs him something. “Yes.”
I frown. “Tell me what you aren’t saying.”
He only draws me closer, resting his chin on the top of my head, like that is answer enough. The scent of him, of rowan blossom, envelopes me, and it’s so achingly familiar it makes my heart feel like it’s split in half. My first instinct is to push him away, but my body refuses to obey. I close my eyes instead, surrendering for a long moment, breathing around the tightness in my throat. And for the first time, I allow myself to wonder...
There are many things I don’t remember. Could he be one of them?
Maybe I really did visit his dreams.
Impossible. The thought is an immediate shout in my mind, so loud I can’t ignore it. I clench my teeth and pull away from him, the chain in his hand rattling and reminding me of what he’s done. Judging by the way he stills, it reminds him, too. His gaze dips to my unbound wrist. A muscle feathers in his jaw.
He is not my friend. He is nothing to me.
I push to my feet on unsteady legs, but I rise all the same. “I need to know everything you’re not telling me.”
His jaw tightens again. He looks away, only to give in a moment later.
“I don’t know how you came to me,” he says quietly, “but you did. More than once. At first, it was only to warn me. But then...we talked. You told me stories. One was about a firebird you saved. Just like this.” He turns back, his eyes locking on my face with an intensity that steals my breath. “She was important to you, that bird. You would have gone to the ends of the earth to protect her. Tell me you don’t remember. Tell me that wasn’t you. Because when I look at you now, I see recognition. Somewhere inside of you, you know. It has to be there.”
