“Who are you?” I mumbled, waiting for an answer. When none came, I asked my question again, louder, even though my voice rasped from disuse. I heard a few indistinct mumblings from the occupants of the sleeping cave I’d thrown myself against, but paid them no mind.
Everyone here was speaking to an unseen voice, whether in their head or out loud.
Apparently, I’m the out-loud type.
The disembodied voice rumbled a laugh, and a pang shot through my body, threatening to break my heart into pieces. The laugh was so familiar, it was as if it were my own.
“Finian?” I whispered, and the feeling that coursed through my soul was pure contentment. Pure love. “You’re . . . here? You can speak to me?”
Finian hummed in thought before his voice echoed around me again. My head swiveled each way, trying to find him. To lay eyes on him. But his body was absent. And it appeared that no one else could hear him.
“I’m in your head, Peytor. Courtesy of Fate,” Finian playfully admonished, and I relaxed, some of the adrenaline leaving my system, which resulted in shaky hands and a cold that crept through my veins.
“So I’m crazy, then,” I mumbled to myself as I gazed at my torn and calloused hands. I knew they were the best-looking part of me, too. I hadn’t seen a mirror since before I was taken from Hestin, but, judging by the bedraggled appearance of the other inmates that were brought in with me at the same time, I could only guess I looked . . . haggard.
Would Finian even recognize me if he saw me today?
“I would recognize you in any form, in any place or time. Because my soul knows yours,” he said, and my eyes filled with tears.
I don’t even know my soul anymore. I clutched at my chest at the admission.
“You have to let your anger go, Peytor. It won’t—can’t—serve you for what comes next.”
I sighed and closed my eyes, reveling in hearing his voice again. I sent a silent prayer to the gods or whoever heard my desperate plea on the ledge.
“Fate is always listening, Peytor. Even if it doesn’t seem that way,” Finian admitted, and I smiled slightly.
Creepy. His responding laugh was a balm to my soul, the only medicine that could fix me.I miss you. So. Much.I really couldn’t even define how much I yearned for him—for his touch, for his mere presence, but I tried to push as much emotion as possible into my thoughts.
“I know. I miss you too.” Finian sounded sad, but resolved. “But there is so much more to live for. I’ll be here. I’malwayshere. But you have a purpose outside of me. You always have.”
There’s no Hestin left to stand against the Warlord. He owns it now, fully, and I’m trapped here. Useless. Dying. I’m little help to anyone.
Finian scoffed at my pitiful thoughts.
“There’s always something that can be done.” Finian’s voice was firm, but his next statement was laced with an urgency. “I don’t have much time left here, Peytor. But you must know that this is not the end for you. You have a purpose. And you need to be ready to fulfill it.”
Don’t leave me. I didn’t want to focus on his other words. What purpose could I possibly have here? I was debating throwing myself over the ledge for gods’ sake. I was lower than low.
“I’m always with you. Always. That’s what happens when you love someone as completely as you loved me. You are mine, and I am yours. And I will happily share you with another, when that time comes.”
This time I laughed out loud, but it wasn’t a happy sound.
I will never love another, Finian. You were, are, my heart. My soul. The reason I breathe. It was you and I, and then you were stolen from me.
“Can something you hold with love in your soul ever truly be stolen from you?” Finian’s voice was fading, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying desperately to hold onto whatever this was. Ineededhim.
Finian. My voice was a cracked and desperate plea, even in my own head.
“My borrowed time is at an end—Fate’s power is no longer infinite. He will send someone for you, but you need to become that man I fell in love with all those years ago. Find a way, Peytor. There isalwaysa way,” Finian urged as his voice lowered to barely a whisper. “I love you. Endlessly.”
Finian?Deafening silence met my plea and I called for him again, this time out loud and with a voice full of pain and desperation. “Finian?”
But he didn’t respond.
My breaths came in pants as my heart rate increased again. I had him and lost him,again. Tears formed in my eyes as they tracked unbidden down my face.
I was broken beyond all repair.
