The Killer of Time.
“That isn’t who you are,” I say.
“Really, Amick? Then who the fuck am I?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “’Cause I don’t know. I live my life for the three of you. Always have.”
He swings his sword until it’s pointing at Riven. Creed and I flinch but resist our urge to stand in front of him.
“You tease and taunt and push him in order to get a rise out of him. Get attention from him. Our whole lives, it’s driven you nuts that he’s the hardest on you. He was doing it to protect you. Always. Those years following your Chaos coming out and Sabelline taking you to Seductions, it left Creed exposed. I knew then you were doing something to keep his power from spiraling. I didn’t know what for sure until Obsidian.”
A ripple flinches across his chest as if just the thought of his mark disturbs him.
“Every time something went wrong, our father would try and blame you. Even if you weren’t there. Amick would speak out—call him out—and he’d lock him away. In a dark room. With nothing but a torch lamp.”
My eyes shift to the other side of the room as if I may see one sitting on a shelf that isn’t even there. I force my gaze back to Kyzen.
Unfortunately, I find him staring at me. Not Riven.
“It wasn’t just your only company you could talk to. It was your comfort. Protection. You could flick it on or off.”
His attention moves back to Riven.
“Every time Creed lost control while you were gone, our father would drag the bodies to Amick’s door and throw them inside. Then stand there and laugh, telling him it was you.”
My throat tightens.
“And you,” Kyzen says, swinging the sword to me. “I kept that secret for you. Even after years of being in the Godsdawn, I told you to tell him the truth, so he’d stop teasing you. You wouldn’t. You refused.”
I swore I wouldn’t tell Riven why I was so obsessed with the torch lamps because I didn’t want him to know what I was doing all those years.
He shifts his focus and weapon back to Riven, who I can feel staring at the side of my face.
“Amick was right about you not forgiving Creed over your Spyvie, Snuggles. You haven’t. I used to sit outside your door and listen to you cry over him and over how you felt like no one loved you. You didn’t understand why Creed didn’t love you when you were always the one to take his pain away. You didn’t just harmonize his power…”
Riven shifts from side to side. Kyzen tracks the movement.
“You reshaped it.”
“What?” Creed breathes.
“You trained his power not to kill on contact. You didn’t want to tell him that it wasn’t only because of your Spyvie but also because the whip that left scars across your back is because of his power. You can’t hold things over his head when he doesn’t even know everything.”
Both Creed’s and my necks snap toward Riven. He shuts his eyes for a moment before shrugging.
“I didn’t know that’s what I was doing at first.”
“When did you know?” Creed asks.
“When she had you and the God of Pain embed your power in that whip and it didn’t kill me on the first lash. I knew I changed something. And I had to continue to change it.”
“How long did you keep doing it?”
“A few more years. Then I didn’t again until we got to the Godsdawn and we stepped out of the Veil. I didn’t know what would change, so I just harmonized it around the times of the Veilings. I only did it a few more times after that. I haven’t had to touch your power in a really long time.”
“And you knew this? Or well, assumed this whole time?” Creed asks, focusing on Kyzen.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
