Kreya did not need the book.
She would have burned it herself after this final spell anyway, or so she told herself. It was best it was gone, though she’d mourn the rest of her library. Later.
Carefully, she unwrapped Jentt’s body. The sun was shifting from the slice in the cave ceiling, and she didn’t want to lose the light before this was complete. Not that she needed the sun for the spell. She just wanted Jentt to wake with sun caressing his face.
All she truly needed was the words, the bones, and a knife.
As she unwrapped him, the rag dolls rolled the linen strips into balls. They hadn’t strayed more than a few feet from her ankles since the bird construct had brought her into the caves. She didn’t mind. She hadn’t known constructs were capable of feeling things like fear or loyalty, but she supposed these were different—they’d been with her for so long.
She wondered again at the soldiers on the field, lasting despite having no one to maintain them. Unless they did. But she shoved that worry away. Now was the time to focus.
“Yep, still dead,” Zera said, peering over her shoulder.
“I need to concentrate.”
“You know, he might be enjoying the extra sleep.”
Kreya leveled a look at her.
“Just eliminating some of the tension,” Zera said. “It helps.”
“It actually doesn’t.” She made a shooing motion with her fingers, and a few of the rag dolls clustered around Zera’s feet, chattering at her. Zera backed up rapidly after that, and Kreya suppressed a smile.
Maybe it helped a little.
She turned back to Jentt. He didn’t look as if he were resting peacefully. There was a motionlessness to death that wasn’t the same as rest. If it was peaceful, it was the serenity of stone. A lack of breath, not a breath suspended.
She wondered what kind of nightmares he’d have after this was over.
It’s time,she thought.
She inhaled. Steadied herself. Picked up the knife.
Opening her hand, she sliced her palm and spread her blood over the first of the human bones. “Take my day, take my night, take my sunrise, take my life.” She then sliced Jentt’s sternum over his heart. She pressed the bone against the bloodless wound. “Take my breath, take my blood.Iri nascre, murro sai enri. Iri prian, murro ken fa. Iri sangra sheeva lai. Ancre murro sai enzal. Iri, iri, nascre ray.”
She repeated this, bone after bone.
As the spell spread, the flesh of his chest absorbed the bones, and the bloodied bones dissolved within him, becoming a part of him. She spilled more and more of her own blood, until her vision began to swim.
Dimly, she heard Zera’s voice cautioning her. She was being too reckless with her cuts. She shouldn’t slice so deep. She couldn’t maintain this pace.
The rag dolls clustered around her, supporting her.
Even with them, she began to sway.Not done yet. Must hold on.
She felt hands on her elbows.
“You need to stop,” Zera said in her ear. “You’re losing too much blood.”
“Help me,” Kreya murmured.
Zera began to draw her back, away from Jentt, but Kreya struggled, shaking her head. “Help me finish,” Kreya said.
Zera swore at her, but then Kreya felt Zera’s hands on her wrist. She helped her squeeze more blood to spread on the bones. Kreya said the words as Zera guided her hand, pressing the bone into Jentt’s body.
At last, Kreya staggered back. “Enough.”
Half her life, drained into Jentt, so that he would live.
