“She is.” He held his shoulders back, his shadows moving around his frame in slow, easy motions. “That will be my only intervention.”
The air shifted with Alastor’s shadows stirring. They suddenly grew restless as they crawled across the shimmering ground. A weight settled in my chest, the shadows seeming to slither inside me, as if they were hungry for something. His gaze snapped to Eiran’s, and I watched them, nerves rising over the silent conversation between god and mage. Through it all, Eiran remained calm, his shadows unmoving while Alastor’s snipped and prowled.
Eiran inclined his head once. Either in agreement or warning. Or something far more dangerous.
“It will not be easy,” Eiran said. “With the orb here and in her grasp, she’ll be stronger than she has ever been.”
“Then we’ll just have to be stronger,” I said, unflinching.
The bond between Brenton and me hummed in agreement.
“What about the trapped souls Zaicha told me about?” I asked. “She said I could free them. Can I still do that, or was that a lie?”
“Zaicha and Leanora entrapped them when they robbed them of their souls,” Eiran said.
She’d entrapped them and led me to believe I was their salvation. Had she planned to free them at all?
He turned his gaze to Alastor when the air sharpened. Cold slipped through the spaces between us, and I tasted metallic on my tongue, like biting into blood.
Alastor froze, his shadows just as still. They coiled tight around him, like a predator waiting to strike. It was the kind of stillness I felt in my bones.
My heart thumped hard against my chest, waiting, uncertain. Each beat came too loud in the fragile quiet.
“Blaise?” The name tore out of him in a rasp, raw and unguarded, and it felt like my vision tilted.
Eiran dipped his head in silent acknowledgment. Alastor’s jaw clenched. The air thinned and trembled with his rage. His fury didn’t roar, though. It sank inside me, heavy and suffocating. The ground itself seemed to tremble with it.
Brenton’s voice cracked through the tension. “We’ll free him.” He turned to Eiran. “We can free him, right? You’ll show us how.”
“Once Zaicha is subdued and I can tend to her, yes.” His nod was slow and deliberate. “We’ll free him and the others.”
Alastor drew his shoulders up as if he might fold into himself and disappear. For long, silent beats, he gave nothing. No acknowledgment that he’d heard Brenton. But then his shadows loosened. The jagged edges smoothed, tension bleeding out of them until they moved with quiet grace. They coasted across the ground and brushed against Brenton’s boots. Not a caress but a silent and purposeful recognition.
Alastor met Brenton’s eyes and cleared his throat. It was dry and might have been a laugh if it weren’t so raw. He lifted one hand, curled it into a fist, and pressed it to his chest. Shadows flickered faintly as he dipped his head and bowed, letting his shadows speak the words he had not. Gratitude.
Silence followed, each of us holding on to our separate worries. My throat tightened.
We were really doing this. And no matter what, we had to be victorious. There was no other alternative. I wouldn’t allow it.
Brenton liked to tease me about him being my damsel in distress. I’d always laughed and joked along. I didn’t laugh now, though. Because if it came down to it, I’d bring the astral realm to her knees for him.
Brenton’s hand found mine before I could hide the tremble that ran through it. His fingers curled around me. Always steady. Always mine.
The bond between us beat with that same unspoken pledge.
We weren’t stepping into battle by chance. This was of our making, our choosing. Whatever came next, we’d meet it together.
Chapter
Forty-Two
BRENTON
For the past week,Finley trained in both combat and magic until her breath shook from the exertion. And every day, Eiran pulled on our threads harder, forcing us to stretch past where I normally might have broken.
But Finley needed me at my best, so I pushed past the exhaustion and head pain, determined not to let her down.
Every night, I felt the way her magic quaked through our bond. Just as spent but unwilling to give in. The way she curled inward every night, as the weight of all the realms lived in her spine, made my blood roar with the need to end this.
