No matter how badly I want to carve out my own heart to make it right, I don’t see how I can ever fix all the lives I’ve broken.
And if he’s lying, and the witches are as evil as I’ve been taught—if everything I’ve seen so far is a carefully crafted lie to fool me—then I’m still evil, because…
I’m a witch.
My brain lets me think the words without immediately slamming me with pain.
I’m a mistake either way, and I don’t deserve any kindness. My head throbs, and then the pain returns, slowly at first, then building, like the drizzle that presages a storm. If I don’t forget before whatever witchcraft Roiven used fades, I’ll pay for that knowledge in agony.
I crawl into the bed, and I don’t get out for a full day.
26
Dayspass. Nor and Avreen make infrequent appearances. Avreen doesn’t say much, but her anger seems duller, like she’s more wary of me than furious. I catch her watching me a few times, once from the top of the courtyard wall.
Nobody offers to take me back down to the village, and I don’t ask. I have no right to intrude on those people’s lives.
They’re right to view me as a monster. How many deaths are on my hands? Ihaveto find a way to end this war. The Enchanted shouldn’t be dying for this.
Each day I break my morning fast with Roiven, then work on removing his enchantment. Every time I summon the crystal from him it leaves me weak and shaking. Nor quietly asks permission to join and learn. I show them how to do it for Hevrin’s sake, but while Nor can sense the hum of the magic coming off Roiven, they have trouble getting it to listen and the feel of connecting to the power makes them faint cold on the floor, even before they try pulling on it. Roiven insists they stop, but I give them enoughinstructions so they can try again later. When I offer to alternate Hevrin and Roiven, Nor refuses.
“Without him, she won’t be safe. None of us will,” they tell me softly.
Maybe that’s why I no longer want to kill Roiven. Not because I hate him any less, but because I don’t want to watch this village fall to the sword.
I’m glad to take away Roiven’s pain rings, and his eyes look brighter after, his movements more graceful and the corners of his mouth softer. I don’t mind giving back his ability to run from me, either.
Next, though, are the marks that stop him from attacking the Empire. I hesitate, staring at the lines running down his right arm as Roiven sits shirtless on the edge of the bed in the room we’ve taken to using.
“If you got to keep living in your lands, would you negotiate?” I whisper as I run a finger down the lines and circles, intersecting pale, shiny scars where the pain rings used to sit. Roiven’s arm twitches beneath my touch as the magic begins to hum bright blue. His neck is stiff as he stares straight ahead of him.
“What do you offer?”
“Join the Empire. Bow before the God-Emperor in exchange for—”
“Fuck no,” Roiven says. He turns to look at me directly. My finger stops near his shoulder as our eyes meet. “That, I’ll never do.”
“People will die.”
“They’ll die if I surrender, too. Or do you really think your War-Father won’t just move on to the next land to conquer? It’s what that thingis, Cai.”
“You don’t know anything about him.”
Roiven raises his eyebrows.
“I saw it. I met it. When I was captured. I looked into that thing’s eyes and I heard it speak. Whatever’s left in that body…. humans aren’t witches, Cai. They aren’t supposed to live hundreds of years like we will.”
Like we will. Because I’m like him.
“Did you have to bring that up?” I grimace, jaw tight as pain barrels into me. With a sigh, Roiven reaches over and traces his finger across my forehead again. The pain softens, but not before a tear escapes my eye.
My breath hitches as Roiven catches my chin. The Witch King tilts it up, until my eyes meet his.
“I won’t surrender. If you want an end to this, join me. Bond with me andfight.”
Roiven said ifhedied, his dragon would be free to choose somebody else. If I refuse, will he have Sava kill me so the kraken can choose somebody new? A chill runs down my back, but I’ve spent my life fighting at the command of men. I’m choosing my own battles from here on. If I fight, it won’t be because he told me to.
“I can’t do that.”
