All I see is Ten, standing in my place, a sword in his hand aimed and thrust into Ascella’s stomach. It’s over in a blink, and time returns to normal.
Ascella falls to the ground and topples to the side.
The sword she was so convinced I’d use to kill her with, protruding horribly from her abdomen.
“Ten?” I question and scramble to my knees. A quick look tells me nobody else is injured, at least not from our side, and the rest of the party retreats.
“Why didn’t you fight her—fight her properly?” Ten barks at me, and I sit back down, shocked at his words. His face shifts in an instant, and he shoves his hands through his hair, as if ready to pull it out.
“I don’t want to be the villain. I don’t want to let that side of me out.”
“Promise me you’ll fight with everything you have. I can’t do this without you, Ever. I thought that was fucking clear.” He pulls me up, ignoring the fizzing of energy as our palms meet. He doesn’t let go and drapes an arm lazily around my shoulder and buries his head in my hair.
“Stop. Don’t.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t face, Ever. There’s not much I won’t do to see you safe. And a little discomfort after the fact is my price.”
“She was your friend.”
“She was a trainee who tried to kill you.”
I take a breath. She really was going to kill me. “Do you know what we did?”
“Yes. And I don’t care. I’d do it again.”
“No. I mean, it’s the first time I’ve seen a vision that hasn’t come true. I mean, there isn’t going to be another fight between Ascella and me. It was a little different, but we both had a blade. Did we change the future?” I pull out of his grasp, a strange hope rising in my chest.
“Possibilities.” Ten smirks. “I’ve always said that. What we see isn’t set. You need to remember that. Remember this.” He grips me so tight.
“Possibilities.”
forty-two
. . .
Ever
“Is everyone okay?” Ten asks, but I already know the answer.
Raiden and Capella are crying and hugging each other closely, a rare sight in Kirrasia. I wish I felt guilt, but I only feel cold. Ascella had every opportunity to walk away, but she didn’t. She said she saw this coming, said I was death, and still didn’t heed her own warnings.
Her friends can mourn her, and I’m sorry they have to, but that’s the extent of my sorrow.
“Little help, here,” Kyra calls as she fusses over Calix.
“What happened?”
“It’s nothing,” he complains, but as Kyra pulls her hand away, there’s an ugly cut across his forearm. Blood stains her hands and smears his clothes. “Got a little close, that’s all.”
“A little close!” Kyra exclaims.
“Here.” Lyle comes over with a strip of cloth.
“Let me.” Capella takes it from her, sniffing and blinking away her tears. Where’s Perrin when you need him?
Capella takes his arm, and in a move similar to what Perrin has done in the past, presses her palm to Calix’s arm.
“You’re a healer?” I ask her.
