Page 325 of The Edge of Darkness

I began shaking.

No . . . I was being shaken. By Maeson.

“Aremis? Aremis?!” she repeated my name, trying to bring me out of the Aether’s grasp.

I found my way back to reality, past the rush of my power, but I didn’t want to look at her. If I did, I would just be hurting myself even more because I would see the very thing that I could not bear to lose.

All of a sudden, I felt numb to the world, as if I’d fallen into a trance, and I was just another body amidst a sea of death and destruction. A spectator, or rather, a specter, watching as the world I no longer felt a part of fell to ruin around me.

The fighting seemed to have spread to the west, leaving us standing in a small clearing, bereft of immediate threats—aside from stray arrows. If it weren’t for the mutilated bodies that blanketed the earth, I would have been a little more at ease.

As I dragged my eyes over the scene, two familiar faces broke through the wall of warriors that were still engaging in the fight.

“I’ve been looking all over for you two!” Roirdan yelled. Nivelle was at his side, rubbing the palms of her hands as if she’d just put them under significant strain by emulating someone’s power. They closed the distance between us in a hurry. “You have to unleash the Aether now!”

“I know,” I said, still partially desensitized to the words I was speaking.

Maeson reached for Nivelle, pulling her into an embrace and checking to see if she was injured. Nivelle did the same, scanning over both of us.

“Are you ready?” the witch asked Maeson and me.

Maeson nodded, but I didn’t respond. I was ready, but at the same time, I wasn’t. My head wasn’t quite right.

Roirdan’s jaw tightened. “What’s wrong?”

Grimly, I inclined my head to where the High Lord and Lady of Drastia lay.

This was the first time I had ever seen Roirdan at a loss for words. He stared, and stared some more, and I wondered if he was thinking the same thoughts that had gone through my mind, about the possibility of losing the female that he cared for, and just how devastating it would be.

He worked his jaw, remaining silent, which gave me all the confirmation I needed.

“How much power do you have left, Roir?” I asked, stepping up to his side, my voice raspy.

It took him a moment to gather a response. “Enough. What do you need me to do?”

“The creatures are going to be on us within seconds once Nivelle begins the spell. They’re drawn to power. We could use your sword and your protection.”

“I’ll hold them off,” he said. “Just do it as quickly as possible, all right? Auren and Niall are with Lyceius as we speak.”

That statement put everything into perspective and snapped me into focus.

“When it’s done,” I said, low enough for only him to hear, “get them out of here.”

He turned, his brows drawing together, searching my eyes for the meaning of my words. The moment he realized I was talking about Maeson and Nivelle, and had not included myself in that statement, his expression shifted to panic. “What about you?”

I had no reply for that.

He shook his head. “Aremis, you can’t⁠—”

“Promise me that you will protect them. Promise me that you will make sure Maeson makes it out of here.”

He shook his head. “I won’t lose another brother today. I won’t, Aremis!”

“Roirdan, please⁠—”

He grabbed the leather strap across my chest and yanked. “You will put up a fight and win, or gods be damned, I will find that Aether myself and rip it from existence!”

I clutched onto his shoulder. “You would descend into chaos for me?”