“And she…Granmanmi…she…with her talons through her spine, she…”
I struggled to make coherent sentences. To make sense.
Ellabeth covered her mouth, her eyes already prickling with tears. I stared at the floor in a daze.
Quazar’s wings wrapped around me, as he scooted closer, drawing nearer to me on his knees. Gently, with so much care, so much caution, he placed his hands on my shoulders. Let them slide down to my waist. Began pulling me to his chest.
“My Evanae,” I sobbed, tilting my head back and wailing. It wasn’t long before Ellabeth’s tears could also be heard. “Mysweet little sister. My Vava. The joy of our home. The bright light that glued us together. My Evanae. My Evanae.”
My words trailed off into whispers. Then into silence.
Head still hanging back, I lifted my cupped hands to Quazar, prying them open so he could see her spirit beginning to wink out in my hands. Then something in me broke as shadows wrapped around me.
And I wailed.
I didn’t know how long had passed as the sounds of my broken, jagged, screaming filled the halls of the wingtower. Didn’t know how long I sat in the arms of the Fallen Prince as he held me, the only thing steady, the only sure thing in my world. Didn’t know how long it was before I was completely undone. Angelically unmade.
My world shattered as I thought of Evanae’s screams. Saw her blood dripping down her nail-less fingertips. Watched the talon shove into her spine and poke out through her stomach.
This world was supposed to be pure. Hopeful. A stairway to the Infinite. But the truth was the opposite.
This holy temple was a living Hèls.
I regretted the dawn I told Manmi I would Ascend. Regretted every dawn I looked at Granmanmi Asarah with pride. Like she was some hero. I regretted every moment I thought I wanted to be like her.
I brought Evanae’s dying spirit to my chest, feeling the warmth slowly leak out as the spirit started growing cold.
When I finally came to, I found myself sitting in Quazar’s lap. He’d tucked me into his chest and wrapped me completely with his wings. He was sitting on the floor, simply holding me, and gently patting my hair, brushing through the strands with his fingers.
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t rush me. With one hand, he held both my hands that were still cupped around Evanae’sspirit. The other brushed my hair. And he used a wing to rub my back in soothing strides.
When I’d run out of tears to cry and words to say, my body turned limp, leaning against Quazar’s chest. He’d lowered his wings enough for me to look around. All our friends were on the floor, sitting in a half circle, eyes on Quazar and me. Both groups were thrumming with rage. Hungry for blood. Quazar kissed my forehead, still petting my hair.
“What would you like me to do, my Safah?”
I didn’t answer for a long time.
Finally, my head began to clear.
“I need to send her off.” I looked at the distant wall as if I was no longer in my own body. “The ocean was her favorite place. We would swim for hours.”
My throat was raw. It hurt to speak.
“I need to send her home. At least she will be with Manmi.”
“Okay. I will bring you to the Ouanaviel Sea.” He kept petting my hair. “But you still haven’t told me what you wantmeto do.”
For the first time since I’d made it back to the wingtower, I looked up at him. And I meanreallylooked up at him. Quazar’s eyes were no longer my favorite shade of emerald green. The jade encircled by gold was gone. His shadows had consumed him entirely. Quazar’s eyes were raven black.
He was enraged, and ready to start a war.
“After.” I closed my eyes, putting my forehead against his chin. My strength was gone.
“After,” I said again.
Then.
“It was the Zamariens you know.”
