“Who gathers here as bonded brothers?” she whispers.
“You and your bonded brothers will burn.”
“We, the Keepers of the Grave,” she breathes, her face pale.
I shove the Wand harder against her flesh, making it sizzle.
After a deep, painful cough, she sputters, “Who spills his blood as… as a symbol of our commitment to one another… and in the service and protection of the first?”
“No more, witch-girl. You’ve had enough.”
“We, the Keepers of the Grave.” She sucks in another ragged breath, then continues. “Who vows, by his life or his death… by his silence or… or his words… in this and all incarnations henceforth, to… to protect the one true source?”
“Let me guess,” I grumble.
“We, the Keepers of the Grave. We, the Keepers of the Grave. We, the Keepers of the Grave. We, the Keepers of—”
“Enough!” In a fit of rage, I toss the Wand aside and leap, knocking her onto her back and pinning her beneath my body.
She doesn’t struggle.
With tears in her eyes, she whispers it again. Again, and again, andagain, like some desperate mantra. “We, the Keepers of the Grave. We, the Keepers of the Grave. We, the Keepers of the Grave.”
“Fitting, as now I’m sending you to yours.” I wrap my hands around her delicate throat, fury rushing through my veins. “I willbreakyou.”
And this woman—this fragile eggshell of a woman, with blood in her mouth and stars in her eyes—looks upon my rage-twisted face and smiles.
Reaching up to touch my cheek, she whispers one last promise. “Iwillfind you again, my friend. In this life or another.”
And then, with a surge of strength and impeccable aim, she shoves the Sword of Breath and Blade right through my fucking chest.
I gasp. The pain is blinding. It’s fire. It’s ice. It’s a thousand deaths on a thousand brutal battlefields in a thousand terrible lifetimes, all condensed tothismoment. This battle. This death.
Through a mess of tears and grime and blood, she beams up at me at strokes my hair, a light in the brutal darkness. But that smile is not for me. It was never for me.
It was always for him.
Blood pools at the back of my throat. I can’t breathe. My body is on fire.
“You… killed… him?” I sputter, my vision already dimming as I collapse against her chest, driving the blade in deeper.
“No.” Tightening her fingers in my hair—hishair—she whispers the last words I’ll ever hear. “I set him free.”
Twenty-One
ANSEL
By blood of the World, by light of the Star
Let body remember its soul and its heart
All is reborn, but first it must die
In shadow he fell, in light he shall rise
The Star’s gentle chant floats up to through smoke-clotted sky in a sweet melody, wrapping me in warmth. I want so badly to follow the cadence of it, follow it back to her, follow it home…
Goddess, more than anything, I want to go home.
