Page 90 of The City Of Fractured Memory

“–a child of silence, crowned in white, shall rise where two worlds collide–”

His pupils dilate as panic sets in. If I’m not right about this, I’ll be responsible for his death. The mere thought of it makes bile rise in my throat, a heavy weight pressing down on my shoulders, and I practically shout the next few lines, holding him tight as his grip on me starts to loosen.

“–her hair shall bear no colour’s claim, his eyes the storm the stars hath slain. Through betrayal shall flow the sleeping God, through deceit shall flow what the fog forgot. Two born of both worlds, of mirrored flame, bound by blood, yet split by fate…”

I pause, tears welling in my eyes as my panic starts to overwhelm me when he goes frighteningly still.

“Together they shall mend the Veil,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Or sundering, end all that awaits.”

He takes in a long shuddering breath, and my pulse quickens.

“The end of Velmora shall begin with her breath, and by her hand shall dawn decide–”

The colour starts to return to his lips as he sucks in another breath. I think it’s working. I hurriedly recite the rest of the prophecy.

“–to bind the heavens whole again, or cast them, fractured, open wide.”

On the last line he lurches forward onto his knees, coughing violently as he gulps down more lungfuls of air.

“Brilliant…fucking...woman.”

I breathe heavily, slumping with relief. “Now we’re even.”

“What?” He pants, lifting his head slightly to look at me.

“You saved my life, now I’ve saved yours. Even.”

He chokes out a laugh, but quickly descends into a coughing fit. I slap his back, trying to hold back a chuckle of my own, but he turns to look at me again and we both collapse into laughter. It’s the first real glimpse I think I’ve had of him, the true man behind the mask he forever faces the world with, and my stomach drops. I tear my gaze away from him, trying to quell this uninvited feeling starting to burrow its way inside me every time we lock eyes.

“So you knew all this time about the prophecy? The deaths? You were interfering?” I ask eventually, his breathing now back to normal.

“Yes.” He moves so he’s sitting next to me, resting his head back against the wall, his smile fading.

“I mean, you could’ve…you know…figured out a way to tell me somehow?”

“It was the most indirect way I could think of,” he says with a shrug.

Is he being serious right now?

“Okay, I see what Xavier means. You literally are insane.”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t had fun–”

“People have died, Riven!”

“Sacrifice the few to save the many, is that not the saying?”

I huff in frustration. “Good intentions don’t elevate you above the law. Why not strive to save everyone without bloodshed?”

“Because we don’t live in a fairytale, Octavia. You can’t save everyone.” Pain flashes in his eyes as the words leave his lips, and I see him then. All of him. The man who tried and failed to help, to fulfil his destiny through constant barriers. The man who’s lost everything and everyone, cursed to a life of misery, devoid of love.

I nod in acknowledgement of his words unspoken. “Did they deserve to die though, Riven? Those seers?”

“Most likely.”

I roll my eyes, gritting my teeth in frustration. If he doesn’t start talking, I’m done. “I’m deciding to trust you—you can thank the damn prophecy for that. But in order to earn that trust, you will tell me everything. Now, is there anything holding you back, anything else physically stopping you from telling me the truth?”

He shakes his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “No.”