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“What did you say?” Ruth asks.
“Who?” Chekiss attempts to hold me up.
“All of them. Dessin, Kane, Greystone, Aquarus, Kalidus, Foxem, Dai, Syfer.” I look at them with wild, unpredictable eyes. “He faked his death.”
Ruth lets out a devastating noise. “Oh, Skylenna.”
“How could someone possibly fake that kind of death?” Niles asks with raised eyebrows.
“Look—it sounds crazy. I know that. But I saw it—We made a plan. He must have done it somehow!”
Chekiss rubs a hand over my back. “Why do you think this?”
“Skylenna—”
“No, listen to me!” I shake myself free of their hands and back away. “We made a plan years ago! He would fake his death so I would become like him. The female subject to this fucking experiment!”
I didn’t notice until now that Warrose has remained quiet. “She’s right.” His voice is barely a whisper, but loud enough that everyone freezes.
My eyes bulge out of my head. Did he know?
“He asked me not to tell you,” Warrose breathes.
“You knew?” I explode. My body, despite the severe exhaustion and aching pains, fires through the air, pummeling him to the ground. “You fucking knew?”
“We didn’t know if it would work! I still don’t know if it did.”
I stop pounding my hands against his chest to listen.
“The day the Naiadales stopped us, remember? They asked to speak to Dessin. They were giving him a rare vial of the old Emerald Lake Spring.” I think back on this. The day we gave ourselves up to Demechnef. “Its legend says it can bring someone back from the dead, regenerate their wounded body.”
“Alegend?” I spit out.
“They said it was a prophecy that his death would turn you into the warrior that will end the war!”
A memory flickers across my thoughts. The day Garanthian gave me the demons’-teeth weapon.You fight yet, Skylenna?He saidyet. It was in his prophecy that I’d become this way.
I shake my head. “But you don’t know if it worked?”
Warrose looks grim. “No. I thought he’d be out by now, come looking for you. DaiSzek stayed at his grave. To dig him out if—when he finally woke up.”
I wilt, still straddling his hips. What if it didn’t work? What if the springs no longer held the elements that could revive someone?
“How long is it supposed to take?”
“Days or weeks. It depends on the gravity of the injury.”
I slide off of him, pressing my hand to my mouth, trying to process the thoughts racing through my mind.He would have come for me by now.
Maybe I should find him.
Where do I start?
“What should we do?” Niles asks, kneeling next to me.
The group is silent. But I’ve made up my mind.
“We have to dig up his grave.”
