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Lily swallowed hard, wondering how carefully to tread her words with him. “I don’t know what happened. All I know is, I don’t want to kill you, Luka. Or your mother, or anyone. I just want to… be.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m scared. I’m afraid of what the Wraith can do.” What it has done. “I want to live without using it.”
“But you have it. Why would you have it if it’s so scary?”
“Just because some of the Flares exist, doesn’t mean they should.”
Luka sat up. “Without the Flares, no one would be alive.”
“Without your Flare, no one would be.”
His temper started to stray away from him again by the contorted look on his face. “I want to see what happens when you kill that flower.”
He had something he was trying to explain, just not the knowledge or vocabulary to express it. Lily remembered her resolve, lifting the flower by the stem.
Luka perked up, flickering eager glances between her and the flower. “I see its glow, and it’s tired.”
Tired? What did he mean by tired? Maybe because it had been plucked?
She took a breath. It’s only a flower. Her heart picked up pace when she reached inside, calling to the Wraith, wanting, for the first time to grace her with its venomous touch. Her fingers grew hot and numb, and the flower dried from the stem up, the bud shriveling immediately as if exposed to an overnight freeze. The trace of Lily’s influence wafted out of the blossom with transparency and control.
“There!” Luka exclaimed. He reached for something Lily could only imagine. “It’s warm.”
“You’re right.” Unlike the one on the fish that was wild, dark, and cold, this trace was slow, light. Warm like the fern in the woods. Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the aura curling around her hand until it constricted her fingers like a small python.
She slowly waved her hand, examining every waft of the mist, every tiny feeling. When she set the flower to the ground, the trace left her hand to mourn its companion in life.
“I don’t see the light anymore.” Luka leaned against the tree, receding back into himself.
Lily’s heart dropped. “I’m sorry…”
“It’s okay. Her soul was clear, and she was quiet,” Luka said, no longer talking about the flower.
Lily couldn’t remember anything about the Stalker’s aura or her state at death. All Lily could see was her fighting for her life and the marks her hands left on her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have killed her.”
“I know, but… she was tired.”
There’s that word again. “What do you mean by tired?”
“Everything here is so bright. Everything at home is tired.”
She paused. “Why did you leave, Luka?”
“The emperor is with Erebria. Mama wanted me gone after that.”
Lily snuffed out her gasp. Valen Hazevale—The Eternal Sovereign. Dead? Was that even possible? After almost four hundred years, he just died? He should be the last person to surrender to an influence his empire did everything in its power to eradicate.
Not only that, but Brialis smuggled Luka out of Failen. Why? If she didn’t want him there, couldn’t she just say so? If Valen was dead, that meant she was empress now and was bestowed with all of the power the title came with. If she sent him away, who was looking to bring him back?
“Did you go home?” Luka asked.
Lily wavered at his question, but eventually, she nodded. “I did.”
“Was your mama mad?”
“No. She wasn’t.”
