And even as he prayed that it would be the last time, he was certain it would not.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Ilain was entirely numb.
She’d spent all her emotion in the Keep and its antechamber. Now, she had nothing left. Even the tears had been drained from her broken heart.
Throughout the night, she sat up, staring at the wall. Ethenn offered comfort. She’d rejected it. How could she rest in his arms while Auden was...?
Ilain’s eyes were perpetually hazy from her grief. Yet, she couldn’t cry. She sat on the wooden floor in her chemise, too brokenhearted to do more than peel the dirty dress from her sweat-caked skin. Next to her, Ethenn sat silently, with enough distance between them not to touch. He seemed to understand her need for independent mourning. However, he didn’t abandon her for the bed or leave her in isolation. Somehow, he knew exactly what she needed. Which almost made the pain worse.
Her body felt hollow, worn down from misery and overuse. Her magic had frayed, the Fire within burning dimmer than ever before. It would return, she knew, but in the meantime, the emptiness left her frame lifeless and limp.
During their perilous battle in the Space Keep, Ilain had used up every ounce of power she possessed. She’d already beenweary, feeling herself weaken in the Keep, yet she knew she still harbored enough energy to save them. She knew that. She’d known it the whole time. From the moment Deckard lost himself to Space, she began to conserve her strength, knowing they’d have to rely on her to get them out.
Hours later, in the darkness of the room, Ilain stared at the four rings on her fingers: ruby for Fire, sapphire for Water, diamond for Wind, and emerald for Terrae. They’d always twinkled with an inner light, a barely perceptible reflection of the magic within. For thirty years, she’d slowly siphoned reserves of her power into those gemstones. Each day, she’d granted them a little more.
Today, they’d gone dull, their power fully expended.
Borrowed energy. That’s what her rings were. Free magic, available to be used in the darkest hour, when all hope seemed lost. And they were the only reason their troop was alive, the only reason she’d remained conscious and able to heal Thom’s mortal wounds.
For years, Ilain had been saving the magic, preparing to use it when, eventually, they entered the final battle with Blount. It was meant for the Alliance’s success. That’s the only reason she’d waited so long to use it. She didn’t view it as her magic anymore; it belonged to the Alliance—hersacrifice for the country’s rise to power.
A fresh tear escaped and slipped down Ilain’s cheek. She didn’t bother brushing it away, letting it burn across her skin.
It had been Auden’s forty-fifth birthday. And she’d let him die.
The moment he’d fallen into that black hole, Ilain felt it in her heart. Her brother was gone. All because she hadn’t acted sooner. She’d hesitated to use the power in her rings, believing they were strong enough to get through the Keep alive. Sheneedn’t consume even an ounce of their energy stores; they could all make it free.
She’d been wrong.
Tearing the Space and Wind Relics from Ethenn and Evylin had been an impulse—an internal fury driving her to do what she should have done long before. In the final moments of battle, she’d summoned all the power of the Relics and all the borrowed energy of her rings, expending them in one profound strike.
Thirty years of power. Gone.
And she still lost Auden.
When the morning came, a soft knock accompanied it.
Ethenn had fallen asleep sitting up, his head lolling toward the side of the bed. Not once had Ilain closed her eyes.
At the knock, Ethenn startled awake. He rose quickly, his steps unsteady. Evylin was on the other side. She brought the news that they were preparing to leave, her voice gentle.
Ilain stood, speaking before Ethenn could. “We’ll be ready shortly,” she told Evylin, her voice tight and scratchy.
Evylin dipped her chin, gaze wary. “If you need longer—”
“I don’t,” Ilain said firmly. She forced a smile across her face, knowing it was terse rather than friendly. “We’ll be down shortly.”
After Evylin departed and Ethenn shut the door, he turned to her, uncertainty written across his features.
“I’m not going to crumble into ash,” she said with a lightness she didn’t feel. “You can stop treating me like it.”
Ethenn studied her for a moment longer. “When you need something from me,” he began, “tell me. Otherwise, I’m going to leave you alone.”
“That’s not very chivalrous of you,” she remarked snidely.
“You’re strong, Ilain,” he said, steady assurance punctuating each word. “You don’t need chivalry. You need support. Now, doyou need anything in this moment, or shall I leave you to get ready yourself?”
