I shook my head. “It knew exactly where to strike. Knew my fears better than I did. What kind of creature can do that?”
“Nothing that our world has experienced before,” Bastien said.
“You said that you were able to learn about it. Is there a weakness we can exploit?”
Bastien’s expression stiffened. “I don’t know if I’d call it that.”
I wanted to ask more, but Cirian suddenly detached himself from the group. “Walk and talk, gentlemen. We need to get back to the sanctuary before the bastard tries for a reprise. Even though I’m feeling awfully left out, being the only mind here it hasn’t suckled from, I’m not desperate enough to offer myself up on a silver platter.”
I pulled away from Bastien, but his hand lingered on my shoulder, waiting till I gave him a nod before he relinquished his grip on me. Cirian took the lead as we started down the labyrinthine tunnels, retracing our steps back to Sancha’s sanctuary.
My muscles ached, and I wanted nothing more than to curl up in the nearest corner and sleep. To keep myself from nodding off mid-stride, I turned to Bastien. “Tell us what else you’ve learned about it.”
Bastien didn’t seem thrilled to be discussing the topic of the entity that inhabited his mind, but after a moment, he began.
“I hypothesize that it’s able to infiltrate our minds without the touch of magic. No amount of mental defenses seems strong enough to keep it out. Once it’s made the connection, then it singles in on what it needs to break—your will. The host has to willingly give over control before the Umbral is able to inhabit them fully.”
“It made me see things that weren’t there,” I confessed. “Made me relive moments of my life that I never wanted to remember.”
“It was the same for me,” Bastien commiserated. “Visceral memories. Those that shaped who we are. It doesn’t pull punches. It longs to carve to the center of you as quickly as it can. It makes breaking you all the easier.”
“How?” Cirian questioned, glancing over his shoulder. “I don’t understand how your own memories would cause you to want to give up control.”
Bastien frowned, his brow drawing down over his golden eyes. “It taps into your greatest fears. It parades them in front of you, all the while whispering sweet promises into your ear. Promises that things could be better. That all of your anxieties can be dissolved with the snap of their fingers. At least, that’s what it was like for me.”
“It was the same,” I agreed. “Though it wore Tobias’s face.”
Bastien’s expression darkened, and Cirian clicked his tongue, the set of his jaw squaring. The sentiment was shared between the three of us—how dare this monster wear the face of the man we loved.
“What was it you feared, Azrael?” Cirian asked after a moment, then immediately shook his head, adding, “You don’t have to give an answer. Apologies, I just assumed that someone as battle-hardened as you would have conquered their fears long ago.”
“It’s alright,” I conceded. “It’s not pain or bloodshed that I fear. It’s something far less tangible, and far more melancholy.”
“You don’t have to confide in us,” Bastien chimed in. “There are some things that are meant to be kept close.”
And keep it close, I had. I’d never shared my fears with anyone before, not even Kaine, who was as close to kin as anyone I had left in this world. After I became Rudderkin, I grew evenmore aware of the need to project strength. Rebellion leaders didn’t have fears.
“You’re right, Cirian. I’ve overcome a host of fears in my lifetime. Death lost its influence over me long ago. Pain was an acquaintance I greeted daily. All others seemed irrational. But the Umbral had no trouble digging into my past and unearthing the germinated seed of my despair.
“It showed it to me, flaunted the root of my insecurity before it went for the kill. I was prepared for anything, except for the truths that it confronted me with. An efficient demise as I’d ever seen. In all honesty, I was moments away from giving in to it. To give it whatever it wanted to never feel that way again.”
Cirian slowed, turning to face me as he did.
“Source, save us. You’re the strongest amongst us, and even you couldn’t stand against it.”
“It wasn’t the Source that saved me,” I argued. “It was the two of you. The connection that we share. And the reminder that came along with it.”
“Which was?” Bastien inquired.
I reached for my chest, feeling the thin tether pull before it shimmered to life, latching itself onto the others.
“That I’m not alone.”
They reached for me, both in their own way—Bastien resting a hand on my shoulder, while Cirian hooked his elbow around my own. The tether’s aura surged, illuminating the tunnel with its violet light.
Cirian looked up with a smile. “Don’t you forget it, mate.”
“Together is how we’ll get through this,” Bastien added.
