“It is...a lot,” Cedric said slowly, exhaling again. “And I may need to revisit several, if not all, of these topics once they have sunk in. But right now, the one that concerns me most is that final one. If the locket is the crown we have been searching for, if that truly is the other piece, then both halves are lost. One to Varyth Malchior?—”
He wasn’t looking at Zephyr. Seemed to be refusing to meet hergaze entirely, in fact. But Elyria didn’t miss the shame-filled dip of the sylvan’s chin, nor the way her eyes fluttered closed as though she were in pain.
Good.
“—and the other to who knows where. My mother’s locket was lost the night she was killed. I don’t know if it burned up in the fire along with her and my father”—he swallowed, nervously twisting his ring—“or if something else happened to it, but either way, I’ve never had it.”
Elyria took a step toward the elder, finally unable to keep her questions at bay. “Could someone else have taken it? Could they have it right now? Is it possible they could’ve unlocked its original form and sold the crown half to Varyth Malchior? Is there a chance he could have already reunited the pieces and?—”
“No. No.” The conviction in the elder’s voice—firm, confident—had Elyria’s rapid heartbeat immediately slowing.
“Well, thank the stars for small miracles,” she breathed, “but how are you so sure?”
“I would know if the transfiguration had been reversed. We would all know. My magic is tied to it.” Once more, Elder Larkess gestured to herself. “Iam tied to it. Only I can break it. Or the spell will only break once I have.”
“Once you have . . . broken?” Cedric asked, his voice low.
Elder Larkess nodded, and there was a sad smile on her face when she said, “Aren’t you glad Ididn’tdie that night?”
“Another reason why it was so important to protect the sanctuary.” Zephyr’s voice was little more than a high-pitched whisper as she came forward. “Varyth Malchior can search forever for the crown. He’ll never find the other half. And even if he did, he’d never be able to unlock its power.”
“This does not absolve you of your crime,” Elyria spat. “Did you even know that the prize at the end of the Crucible was only half the crown when you promised it to him?”
Zephyr straightened her shoulders. “No,” she said. “I only learned of the locket when I returned to Elderglade afterward. When I told the elders of everything that happened in the Sanctum.”
Elyria threw her eyes to the sky with a scoff. “All the shityoudid, you mean.”
“We all made choices in there,” Zephyr said, her voice stronger. “We all did things to protect the people we love.”
Elyria bit her lip. She had done the same, hadn’t she? The image of Evander’s face as he faded from this world—wrenched from life at her own hand—overwhelmed her. Guilt and grief exploded from that rattling box she held in her chest, great enough that Cedric must have felt it, because the next thing she knew, her own name was a whisper in her mind, pulling her back from the edge.
“Elle.That wasn’t your fault. Malchior corrupted him, and you saved us all.”
“She is right though. It was a choice that I made. I saved you,”Elyria said back, her resolve a steel brace against her spine.“And if I had to do it over, I would choose you again.”
Light shimmered down the thread, warmth that seemed to come straight from Cedric’s heart shooting into Elyria’s, blooming bright and beautiful.
“Ev chose to make that deal,”she continued.“He allowed Malchior’s darkness in and let him escape the Sanctum.”
“We all made choices,”Cedric repeated, and Elyria could only nod at the truth in that.
“Um, so sorry to interrupt whatever this is”—Ollie’s voice was like a brick being thrown through glass—“but what in all four hells is happening here?”
Elyria’s brow creased as she looked first at Ollie, who was pointing back at her, then followed the line of his sight. To her own chest, where soft light was emitting from beneath her blouse, seeping out over the edges of her vest.
“What the?—”
“A true soul-bond,” said Elder Larkess. “Incredible.”
Elyria glanced at Cedric, taking in the glow breaking through the cracks in his armor, warm and bright. Something like pride had the back of her throat feeling tight, even as bewilderment still blared in her mind.
“Is this . . . normal?” Elyria asked the elder.
“It is not,” Larkess replied, matter-of-factly.
Well, then.
“I have met only a few soul-bonded pairs inmy very long lifetime,” she continued, looking between Cedric and Elyria analytically, like she was observing some rare new species. “This link between you seems different even from those I have known.”
