Maeve knew the corridor in Vaukore well, where Nevian pressed Judyth against the wall, his fingers trailing through her white hair as he looked down at her in worship.
“There’s many of him,” said Maeve, switching to something even more intimate between Shadow and Nevian.
Shadow’s eyes remained glued on her past self, and the lover she was denied a life with. As Maeve flipped through the back corners of Shadow’s mind like a picture book, they watched every tender memory, and then every tenacious one.
Right up until the moment she watched him bleed out.
And Maeve ensured Shadow felt it all.
She took her time. After all, this was merely a distraction while Abraxas, Eryx, Antony, and the rest evacuated the Dread Lands and Castle Morana without Shadow’s intervention.
“I have more though,” said Maeve, keeping her hold on Shadow’s mind, “because he was the first love you lost, but he wasn’t the last one.”
As their view shifted from Vaukore to Castle Morana, Judyth aged by only a few years, and she glowed with Dread Magic that didn’t belong to her. As she sat to the right of the Dread King, his face blurred since he wasn’t the focus of her thoughts then, her pale eyes were on his middle son.
Prince Darius, who looked strikingly like Mal, stared back at her in silence, but their gaze was loud. Their memories were even louder.
“I spent a lot of time looking at these,” said Maeve. “I think you loved him even more than you did Nevian.”
Shadow watched, her face still struck with horror as Maeve reminded her of her time with a former Prince of the Dread Lands. Of just how wonderful he made her believe she was. Of how badly she wanted to be his.
But she was not his.
She belonged to his father in every meaning of the word.
Stolen glances and moments of weakness were all they shared. Conversations in the library, or quick moments at dinner before the Dread King arrived.
They watched as Prince Darius wed another. They watched as he gave her children. And they watched as Shadow slaughtered them, taking all their Dread Magic for herself.
Time dragged on as Shadow unfolded new memories, ones that had long been locked away, and the two Witches watched even more than Maeve was anticipating.
“In the end,” said Maeve as they viewed her descent into darkness, “you remembered the vow you’d made when they took Nevian from you. You remembered that you’d promised yourself you’d take all the Dread Magic for yourself.”
“Is that pity in your voice?” asked Shadow, her tone low.
“No,” answered Maeve. “I haven’t got any of that for you. I do not feel sorry for those who inflict their sufferings on others, just as the world has not felt sorry for me in my transgressions. But there is a difference between us,Judyth,” she said, her voice dropping and Shadow tensing at the use of her given name. “You were all alone. I was not. The presence of those I care for gave me perspective, a chance to see my mistakes.”
“Is that your way of telling me you intend to be merciful and let me live?”
“I’m not your executioner,” said Maeve as the memories around them faded until they stood in a void.
“You think I can’t feel what’s happening?” asked Shadow. “I can feel the Dread Magic depleting from these lands as all your new allies usher everyone to safety.”
“I’m sure you can,” replied Maeve.
“You’re nearly there,” said Shadow, her voice shifting into something almost excited. “Thank you.”
“What?” snapped Maeve.
“This is the war I always dreamed of.” Her blue eyes landed back on Maeve. She smiled. “We both know those little prophecies are never coming true now. It’ll be you and me. . .two Shadows. After all, no one rewrites reality quite like our blood can.”
“My blood,” argued Maeve. “You’ve never done it like I have. In one person at a time, sure, you’ve altered minds. But never like me. I’d wondered why you wanted my spell so badly. But I understand now that despite the abilities granted to you as a Shadow Magical, you lack the nerve required to pull off a mind wipe.”
Shadow’s smile fell.
“I hardly blame you, knowing now that the first time I did it, if Reeve hadn’t given me life, I would have died. I still feel the damage I’ve done to my mind, to my Magic, from the countless times I’ve been forced to run from you.”
“And now you face your reaper with a soldier’s determination. Can’t you see how beautiful our battle is?
