“Home? But what about this?” I took off the pouch and set it on a nearby end table. “Death isn’t far.”
“That was the planbeforeSeville was taken. Now we’re shorthanded,” he said as he stood. Images of her unconscious body slung over Kara’s shoulder filled my mind. My stomach tightened. I’d shared what I’d seen with Rorik on our journey to the cabin, and he’d only managed a groan in answer.
“So, we go save Seville, then come back for Death.” I parked my hip on the arm of the couch and glowered at Rorik.
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t underestimate Seville. She’d throttle you just for the mere suggestion that she couldn’t take care of herself.”
Temper colored my words. “You’re not the least bit concerned? What if something happened to her?”
“Of course I’m concerned,” he said. “But we can’t go back to Stormsend right now. I’ll get you back to Fernglove, away from this mess, and then I’ll search for her. Seville suffered burns, not a mortal wound. I wouldn’t put it past her to be faking just so she could get the upper hand on Kara.” He stalked toward the kitchen, ignoring my huff, and then sucked on his teeth once before heading for the front door. “Stay here. I’ll be back with food.”
“Wait—” I tried to stand, but he was gone before I could push off the couch. I let out a wordless, stifled shriek of frustration before fully settling onto the cushions. Logs snapped and popped in the fire, and for several moments I did nothing but stew and stare into the snarling flames. As the anger ebbed, I tore off the granny boots I’d been wearing and grimaced. When I’d dressed for breakfast, I’d hardly expected a brawl followed by a cross-country trek. My feet ached from walking in heels for so long, and the embroidery along the leather sides was damaged beyond repair. I’d have to force my weary feet back into them eventually, but for now, my toes could breathe easy.
I reached for the pouch and pulled out the blade. The metal was a void unlike anything I’d ever seen. Even the light from the flames seemed to dim in its presence, and there were no splashes of orange or flickers of yellow in the blade’s reflection. Just absolute nothingness.
Like death.I rotated the hilt once. It was a comfortable weight in my palm, perfectly balanced and warm to the touch. I’d only just started practicing with a knife, but something about it felt strangely right.
I’ll save your kin. I promise.
A chill crept down my spine. The weight of the evervow was etched into my very skin, a cold reminder that I would have to be the one to take down Death. Once we were free of Embergrave lands, I’d shared with Rorik how I’d used earthly magic to get the ancestor tree to reveal the hidden blade, but not that the first Ever herself had managed to place an evervow on me.
The door swung open, and Rorik stormed in, still wearing a scowl but now carrying a makeshift spear with two fish impaled on its pointed end. He closed the door behind him and then walked to the fire. Gently, he propped the spear above the flames so the fish could cook.
Sizzling met my ears as remnants of salt water splashed against the wood. We sat in silence for what felt like ages. I still hadn’t taken the wall down around my end of our heartbond, but I’d removed a few bricks. Peeked to the other side to see if he was listening. I couldn’t tell. The river of emotions flowing between us was unnaturally still. Quiet. I hated it, but I didn’t want to be the one to break first. Not after I’d bared myself to him in more ways than one. Not after he’d turned me away. Again.
At some point, he ventured to the kitchen and secured some mostly clean plates and forks, and then he slid a fish onto each one. Without a single word, he took his seat beside me on the couch. The silence grew heavier as we peeled the skin off our fish. It carried through the first several bites, and my frustration mounted higher with each second that passed.
“I’m not going to bend on this one, Rorik. I have the blade. I’m going to find Death.”
He didn’t look at me. “No.”
I resisted the urge to smack him and instead placed my plate on the coffee table. “That was the plan all along. Why are you fighting this so hard?”
“Because there’s no reason for you to do this. Not anymore.” He maneuvered the tines of his fork around thin, brittle bones, securing a flaky white morsel of meat. “You healed my burns outside without damaging your threads. If you keep practicing, you’ll be able to mend whatever you please.”
“Like blight?” I said, folding my arms across my chest.
“Not blight.” He shook his head. “There’s no point. It will keep coming back.”
“Then I’ll keep healing it.”
Rorik swallowed thickly. “You’d have to try first. And what if it didn’t work? What if it did? Are you just going to siphon life from the world to keep me alive for as long as you please?”
Yes. I would drain the world dry if it meant keeping him safe. But as much as this was about keeping him alive, it was about saving myself, too.
“I want to do this for myself, Rorik. Maybe I don’t want to live by just... siphoning life from something else. What if I want the power to be free of that? To move as I please, to use magic as I please, without the risk of hurting myself? What if I don’t want to leave rot in my wake?”
“It’s better than letting yourself rot in the ground,” he said.
“What would you have me do, then?”
A muscle twitched along his clenched jaw. “Right now, I want you to eat your fish.”
“Fuck the fucking fish, Rorik!” Launching to my feet, I picked up the plate and threw it into the fire. The ceramic shattered against the back stone wall, and what was left of my meal was devoured by the flames. “You are such a colossal pain in my ass. I don’t even know what I’m still doing here.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying this entire time.” He set his plate down—much more gently than I did—and slowly stood. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Anger exploded deep within my core. “All I’ve ever done is try to help you.”
