Shifting in his embrace, I faced him more fully and placed my hands on his chest. “Just listen. Death felt used by Rebellyn. She only wanted his power for her own gain. Orin did the same to me. Let’s just... pretend that’s our circumstance in front of Death. Let me act. Let me convince him that you’re a horrid Ever only after me for my magic.”
Rorik’s lips peeled back in a grimace. “And then what?”
“While I’m cowering behind him, begging for some way out of this predicament with you, I’ll stab him in the back.” I trailed my knuckles along Rorik’s jaw, and he leaned into the touch. “You’re just a distraction, my love.”
“I’d argue that you’ve been a distraction since the day I met you, but...” He turned his head and placed a kiss against my hand. “It might work. Death is known for hating my kind. If we craft a story that mirrors his own, he’ll likely be infuriated beyond measure.”
I nodded my agreement and settled back into his embrace. He wasn’t Orin—far from it. I poured every ounce of love I had for Rorik right down our bond, and he did the same. We relished those feelings. The ebb and flow of the ocean waves that matched the rise and fall of our chests. We had a plan. We had each other. We would survive.
We could’ve stayed like that for hours, but I wrapped his hand in mine and tugged us forward. I had to believe that we’d have more moments like that in our future. That we weren’t actually walking toward our deaths but just the entity himself. Yet there was a familiar, aching cold that settled deep into my bones the farther we walked. Exhaustion tugged at my limbs with a renewed sense of force, and the headache that I’d managed to banish before our night together was back with a vengeance. There was an uneven hitch to my breath, just the slightest of catches, that I hadn’t noticed before. I chalked it up to the endless trudging, but I feared it was something far worse.
By early afternoon, we finally found what we were looking for. I nearly missed it at first. The stream was nothing more than a thin vein weaving between misshapen rocks, but the farther inland it crawled the wider it got.
“There,” I murmured with a nod. “Look at the current.”
It defied the very tilt of the earth. Babbling water churned with determined force against grains of sand, curving toward the sheer cliffs we’d been walking parallel to all this time. The stream widened to the size of a table runner before slipping beneath a slab of rock and disappearing entirely.
Rorik placed his hand against the smooth stone. “The cavern must be here.” Magic flared beneath his fingers, and the stone fractured. Another pulse of magic rushed from him, and a second earsplitting crack followed the first. The two jagged lines formed a tall triangle within the stone, and Rorik slammed his fist into the center of it. Tiny fissures exploded outward from the impact. And then the slab crumbled into a pile of rubble at his feet. A whoosh of air rushed from the bowels of the earth to cover us in the dank scent of minerals. There was nothing but pure, endless darkness waiting in the void of the cavern, but I could hear the trickling creek echoing off the walls.
My breathing turned shallow at the sight. “I knew it’d be underground, I just...” I stared at the yawning maw while fighting back the nausea churning in my gut.
Rorik’s hand found mine instantly. “I’m here. One step at a time.”
All I could do was nod and squeeze his fingers tight.
With ease, he stepped over the pile of debris and helped me do the same. Our feet met smooth river stone that was slick with moisture, and my free hand immediately went to the wall. Biting cold. Smooth as glass. A chill skittered down my spine. This was it.
“Glow for me, Edira,” Rorik whispered lovingly.
At first, I didn’t understand. I blinked at him, still trying to wrestle the rising panic in my chest, and then it hit me. He meant my power.
Warmth flooded my chest. Because he knew damn well that he could glow, too. But instead, he gave me purpose. Control.
I uncorked the dam holding back my magic and let it flow through my limbs, coating my hands in an ivory light. It reflected off the walls and blanketed the space in an ethereal glow that made it easier to see, easier to breathe. I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t descending into the Starglens’ tomb. I was holding Rorik’s hand. I had my power, and my magic gave me strength.
Looking up at him, I allowed the smallest smile. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He kissed the crown of my head. “Let’s get this over with.”
Together, we walked into a corridor of darkness. Together, we went to meet Death. Together, we sealed our fates for eternity.
Thirty
We followed the river for what felt like hours. Time was funny in this space. All we had to mark its passage was the sound of the water, which flowed ceaselessly forward. There was nothing else save for our breaths and the faint glow of my magic. The air was moist, the ground slippery. With my power activated, I was acutely aware of the total lack of life around us. There wasn’t a single thread begging for recognition. Nothing and no one lived here.
A mist had risen from somewhere within the cavern. It settled over us, around us, with an oppressive, suffocating weight. It was a hot, rancid exhale that soured my tongue, and my magic sharpened in response. It flared outward like a star, ricocheting against the reflective walls as it tried in vain to pinpoint the source of death but found nothing. Rorik’s grip on my hand tightened.
“Are you okay?” He tilted his head to get a better look at my face.
“All things considered, yes,” I said softly. My headache splintered down the base of my neck. But I couldn’t stop. Not when we were so close to putting an end to it all.
“You really think he’ll just be waiting for us at the end of this tunnel?” Rorik asked, trying to infuse his words with a bit of sarcasm, likely for my benefit.
I grimaced. “I doubt it. I imagine I have to be in the space first. I don’t sense him yet.”
A sliver of Ossanna’s tale rose to the forefront of my mind.Here, Death will appear if properly summoned.
No, I didn’t think we’d have a problem meeting Death at all. Even with perfecting our magics, there was no reclaiming what had already been lost. I would always be on the precipice like this.
