by Rye Brewer
“What are you doing here?” Stark asked.
The long, green cape she wore swept along the stone floor as she came our way. “I came as soon as I heard Elazar was free. I see I heard correctly. Congratulations.”
Oh, when she spoke, when her face moved, and her eyes lit up, she reminded me so much of Philippa. I could see that same recognition in Fane, too. What would it be like to have every memory come flooding in all at once?
Elazar raised an eyebrow. “Nivia. What warrants a visit? You must’ve come a long way.”
“Terribly long,” she agreed. “But I give you enough credit to know why I’m here without needing my explanation. Unless the passage of time has dulled your faculties.”
“You want me to place you back in your own body.”
“Ahh.” She smiled. “I knew you could put it together.”
He made a big show of cringing, though I knew he didn’t mean it.
I was fairly sure he’d never experienced a genuine emotion in his life.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of tragic news, but Samara is no longer with us.”
“What?” she hissed.
I exchanged a worried look with Sara. Something told me we needed to get away from here, and fast. There was no telling how bad things could get.
“I lost her this very evening, right before being freed.” His face showed nothing of the storm of grief he’d suffered when he’d found her, and I amended my assessment. He could experience deep, genuine emotion. I had witnessed it. No matter how cavalier he pretended to be, he had loved her.
Rather than offering condolences, Nivia was incensed. “What do you mean, you lost her this evening? She’s dead? You couldn’t have saved her?”
“She was gone when I reached her—and you should know very well that once a person is dead, there’s no bringing them back unless the one doing it is willing to accept the difference in them. I… I wouldn’t do that to her. No matter how much I wished to keep her with me. She wouldn’t want to continue living that way, either.”
Nivia waved her hands. “I don’t care about your personal reasons, Elazar. I didn’t ask about your feelings or your sense of right and wrong. I asked why you didn’t save her when you knew I would need her.”
“You needed her? What do I care about what you need? I’m searching my memory for one more single occurrence of you visiting me here at the prison, and I can’t think of one.”
“You know very well I was unable to go anywhere. I was trapped.”
“I don’t care about your personal reasons,” he sneered, and the way he turned her words around on her made her cheeks burn deep red.
“We’ll find another caster then,” she decided. “Samara was talented, but she wasn’t the only caster in existence. We’ll find someone else.”
“We?” He pointed to himself. “You mean you and I?”
“Who else would I mean?”
“I don’t recall ever offering my assistance,” he explained. “And I never will. I have no intention of offering aid to anyone, ever again. I’m finished with that sort of thing. I would like to live what’s left of my life without the pressure of performing like some trained animal.”
“You can’t be serious!” she shrieked.
I took a step toward the doors, then another, pulling Sara with me. We had waited around long enough. Perhaps too long.
“I am,” Elazar affirmed. “You’ll have to find someone else.”
Her chest puffed out. Her nostrils flared. Her face went as red as her hair right before she flew at him, claws out and fangs gleaming.
Sara screamed, and Stark threw himself in front of the both of us a moment before Nivia and Elazar clashed.
“I’ll kill you!” she shrieked, her voice doubling and tripling as it echoed off the walls and floor until there was nothing in the world but the sound of it.
I cringed, hands over my ears.
But Elazar didn’t flinch. In fact, he was smiling.
He smiled straight up until the moment when he took Nivia’s head in his hands and twisted it, sharp and fast. The sound of her neck snapping took my breath away. Quick as that, in the blink of an eye, she stopped moving. She stopped everything.
When he let go, she dropped to the floor and never moved again.
31
Anissa
“No!” Fane’s tortured scream was nearly enough to tear my heart from my chest.
He threw himself over her as Elazar had done with Samara, then picked her up as the warlock had lifted his own mate in his arms. “No, no, Elena! No!”
Scott reeled, his face as white as a sheet, shaking his head over and over as though that would change anything. Much as a little boy who refused to believe what was happening in front of him. He’d already lost his mother once. He’d watched her die again. Even if it wasn’t her inside that body, the eyes and the heart didn’t care about things like that.
“I don’t believe this,” Sara whispered, turning her face away and pressing it against Stark’s shoulder.
He appeared shaken, and I had the feeling it took quite a lot to bring him to that point.
“Why?” Fane bellowed, glaring up at Elazar with Elena’s body in his arms.
She was Elena again, her beautiful face peaceful and serene, and reminding me of how humans described their angels. Soft, wavy red hair framed her peaches-and-cream complexion.
“Why what?” Elazar was hardly breathing heavy, but then, why would he? It hadn’t taken more than a quick twist to silence his foe.
“Why did you have to do that?” Fane cried out, crushing Elena to his chest. I felt guilty for watching him. It was too intimate a moment.
Scott sank to the floor, utterly defeated.
“Because she was trying to kill me—did you not see that?”
“But you killed her! You can’t bring Elena back if you killed Nivia! She was in there, and now she’s gone, too!” His tears soaked into the green hood still fastened at Elena’s throat. He peered down at her and stroked her face, her hair.
“Wait.” Elazar’s head tipped to the side, and his eyes narrowed. “You believe Elena was still present in that body? Is that what you were working toward—freeing her, somehow?”
When Fane didn’t reply—which was all the reply necessary—the necromancer laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a good laugh. Thank you.” He didn’t appear happy when he sneered down at Fane, however. “Elena was no longer present in that body, you fool. Do you know nothing about such matters?”
“She… She wasn’t…?”
“She wasn’t,” Elazar repeated. “Yes, it’s possible for two souls to inhabit the same body. But only when the first soul was fully alive when the second entered.”
“Elena was already dead, then.” Fane gazed down at his wife.
“No. Actually, she was dying. But when Nivia entered, the strain finally finished her off.”
I covered my mouth with my hand.
Sara pressed herself closer to Stark, whose arms closed tight around her.
I didn’t know about either of them, but I’d never heard such cold cruelty. Not even from Marcus. He’d never lorded the death of a loved one over someone’s head—at least, not in my presence.
Fane shook, but not with grief.
I felt the rage boiling up in him, threatening to spill over.
Elazar merely let out another half-hearted laugh.
I wanted to kill him for it. For all of it. His trickery and evil. He deserved it. It seemed unfair that he had escaped his full sentence.
“Elazar!”
We all turned as one at the sound of Elewyn’s voice. She stood at the top of the stairs, surveying the scene with a deep frown. “What’s happened here?”
“Nivia,” he said.
She sighed.
I was ready for her to flay him alive, to cut him down with a handful of choice words. She seemed the sort of witch who could do that. I’d
enjoy watching.
“Why did you have to do it in here?” she asked.
I should’ve known better.
She instructed one of the guards to take the body away, as he had with the others.
“No,” Fane said, standing. “She was my wife. The mother of my children. I wish to place her body in a crypt reserved for my family.”
“Good enough. I truly don’t care one way or another.” She shot Elazar a sharp look. “I would like to see you, brother. In my chambers.”
She had made herself at home right away, hadn’t she?
I moved aside to give him ample room to pass through without accidentally coming into contact with him. I didn’t want to so much as brush against him in passing.
Where were we supposed to go from here? Scott and Fane wore almost identical expressions of grief, yet they didn’t try to comfort each other. It pained me to see it. They were so far apart, I had to wonder if anything could ever bring them back together.
“I feel like we shouldn’t be here right now,” Sara whispered.
“I know,” I replied with a shrug. “But somebody needs to say something.” I went to Fane, who was on his knees by Elena’s body.
Part of me was glad for her, as twisted as the sentiment seemed from a distance. Her body was no longer being used by an evil force. She could rest in peace. It had taken long enough, after all.
I crouched by him. “I’m so sorry for all of this.” It was pathetic, and I knew it, but what did a person say in a situation such as this? I had no experience with it.
“As am I,” he murmured. At least his voice was the same, even if his face wasn’t entirely. What did Elazar have to do with it, exactly, to change him this way? And what did it have to do with bringing him back from the brink of death? I had no understanding of things like that and was glad I didn’t, considering the sort of people Elewyn and Elazar were. I’d rather know Jonah and Felicity, Sirene, and Allonic.
“I feel as though I have something to do with all of this,” I admitted. “If I hadn’t insisted on coming along with you, we wouldn’t have ended up here. There would never have been a battle.”
“There would have been a battle at some point, even if it hadn’t happened today. Opportunists such as Elewyn will always find a reason to battle.”
I couldn’t argue that but couldn’t help thinking it would’ve been better for somebody else to be involved in her battle. Anybody outside the circle of people I cared about.
He rocked back on his heels with a defeated sigh. “You know, for the first time in as long as I can remember, there’s no mission. There’s nothing for me to focus my energy on. The worst part is, it was all for nothing. Elena was never there. I’m the one who put us all through this, and for what? And now, what is there to continue for?”
“I can think of at least two things,” I reminded him as gently as I could. “Sirene and the baby.”
Instead of remembering them and admitting I was right, he scoffed. “Yes, Sirene. Who may very well die as a result of giving birth to my child. I’m no use to anyone now. Though, if it brings you any comfort, I’m sure Jonah is taking care of her, as I asked him to. The last thing I could do for her.”
I gaped at him, wordless. There was no getting through to someone despairing this deeply. I could only rest my hand on his shoulder and offer him whatever solidarity I could while he stared at his dead wife.
Then, he raised his head. “There’s one more thing I can do. I had forgotten.”
“What?” I stood when he did.
There was a feverish glow in his eyes that I wasn’t sure I cared for. He had already been through so much. Did he have a breaking point? Had he reached it?
“Philippa.” He gazed down at me. “I can help Philippa.”
“How?” Talk about a lifelong mission. There was no helping her, as far as I was concerned.
“I can return Vance to her,” he said, sounding more like the Fane I knew. “She loves him, and knowing Valerius is in possession of his body must be terrible for her. I know that feeling.”
“What would you do?” Especially with Samara dead, I wanted to add, but I held my tongue. It would be tantamount to rubbing salt in his wounds.
Besides, he knew Samara was dead. He needed no reminding.
“I’m not sure. I only know it would make her happy, and I would do anything to ensure my children’s happiness.” A soft smile touched the corners of his mouth. “I know Jonah is already taken care of.”
As nice as it was to hear that, it didn’t ease my concerns over his idea. Hadn’t he had enough of battling these beings? I could almost look back at the times when I thought Marcus was the vilest creature in the world with fondness. I was so naïve then. Sometimes ignorance truly was bliss.
“Elazar already said he was out of the business,” I reminded him, hoping he would change his mind.
I wasn’t overly-fond of the idea of meeting another necromancer. One was enough.
“I’m sure he could be persuaded.” Fane was halfway up the stairs to the second level before I registered what he was going to do.
I followed him at a run, determined to keep whatever damage he was about to cause to a minimum.
“Elazar!” he called out as he hurried down the hall, his voice carrying and echoing.
It would’ve been pointless to ask him to stop, so I didn’t bother wasting my breath. I only followed and hoped he wouldn’t get himself any further into Elazar’s debt.
We found him with his sister in a cavernous room, the ceiling twice as high as the one in the corridor. The walls along three sides had been carved into shelves centuries earlier and had since been crammed full of books. I couldn’t begin to count them all.
The tables and desks were covered with more books, plus scrolls and folios. Some of them appeared ready to disintegrate. Candles sat here and there, ancient wax dripping down table legs and onto the floor. Clearly, none of the Senate had ever heard of fire safety. The entire room would go up in the blink of an eye.
Elewyn stood by the window while Elazar sat with his feet up on a long, overburdened desk. The two of them had made themselves quite at home.
I noticed Elewyn had changed the weather on the island, too. One good thing to come of her reign so far.
“What is it?” the necromancer asked in a lazy voice, like we had woken him from a nap.
“I need your help,” Fane announced, standing across from him on the other side of the desk.
A mountain of paper stood between them.
“I’ve already told you, I have no intention—”
Fane cut him off. “Yes, I know. You’re not going to offer your services to anyone, ever again. Yet, I wanted to present you with this request.”
“If you’re so determined to waste your time.” He waved a hand. “Get on with it.”
“Valerius currently inhabits the body of Vance, who was Lucian’s son. I wish to free Vance by getting Valerius out of his body.”
Elazar and Elewyn exchanged a glance at the mention of Valerius but said nothing to each other. I didn’t like that look. They already had ulterior motives. I wanted more than anything to take Fane by the arm and lead him out of the room. He was in deep enough as it was.
“And why would you want to do this?” Elewyn asked. I caught the note of intrigue in her silky voice.
“Because Vance means a lot to my daughter, and I know it would make her happy.”
The witch stopped short of rolling her eyes. Was she that cold and unfeeling that she couldn’t understand the importance of love? And yet, she had gone to great lengths to free her brother—but that had benefitted her, too, I reminded myself.
Elazar removed his feet from the desk and replaced them with his folded hands. “Why would I do this for you?”
“I would owe you for it.”
“You already owe me.”
“I know it,” Fane growled, “but I would accept greater debt if it meant my daughter’s happiness.”
I glared at him. Was he insane? Had he lost his mind along with his vampirism? Personal feelings for Philippa aside, he was going too far.
“You realize we would need a caster to replace Samara,” Elazar murmured.
“I’m sure we could find one in Duskwood—and it would behoove you to hide there for a while, at any rate. You may believe you’re safe here, but when the rest of the witch world finds out you were released before your sentence passed…”
“I would like to see them make an attempt to attack the island,” Elewyn declared with a toss of her hair.
She had a great deal of pride in her abilities, didn’t she? I remembered studying literature in my other life, my “normal” life, and reading about characters with fatal flaws. Hers would be pride, most definitely. I wondered if it would mean the end of her one day and thought that day couldn’t come soon enough for my taste. Whether or not Stark wanted her to train Sara, I didn’t trust her.
Elazar shook his head. “I wouldn’t put you to such trouble, sister. Perhaps Fane is correct, and it would be best for me to leave the island for a short while. Anyway, I would only distract you from the work you have to do. I cannot have you worrying about my protection along with everything else.”
He stared at her, and she at him, and again they exchanged a look I didn’t like.
An understanding passed between them, and she nodded.
He smiled nastily at Fane. “When shall we leave?”
32
Gage
If there was one good thing about our having a fight, it was how much more attentive and sweet Cari was in the days after. Not that I didn’t make as much of an effort to smooth things over, but it seemed as though she was trying twice as hard.
I couldn’t help but wonder what happened between her leaving with Micah and when she’d found me in our room later that night. She’d thrown herself into my arms and offered tearful apologies, begging me to forgive her when there was nothing to forgive.
We were on our way to the catacombs from the Louvre, walking hand in hand.
