Page 118 of Heart of the Desert

“The bond you were gifted as the two halves of my Heart—a bond gifted to a set of lovers in every generation as my chosen Champions—it is not so weak as to be severed by death. My older sister is not so strong as to be able to unmake my creations. Erix loves you, even now.”

I swallowed thickly. Turning my attention inward, I found that indeed she was right. In the space where my stomach was, deep at the base of my spine, still lived a flow of magic. I could not trace it all the way back to its origin, as it stretched an impossibly long distance, but it was unmistakable.

As I dipped my fingers into the delicate stream of power, the desert cocked her head as if listening. “In fact, you might see him again sooner than you think.”

My eyes widened. Surely Erix did not mean to join me in death. I had told him to live on, But I didn’t have time to ask, for the desert leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“Rest now, my daughter. You have earned it.”

I could not disobey her command, and my eyes slipped closed.

Chapter forty-three

Erix

Iwanted to scream, but no noise would come out. My lungs could not draw in enough air—it had all been sucked out of the room when Keera’s soul left her body. Instead, I gasped out silent, shuddering sobs.

It would have been easier to curse and rage. I wished for the clean heat of anger, the injustice, that this had been the price, after I had already steeled myself to pay with my own life. But I couldn’t force myself to turn and shout at Kelvar, who had stood silently behind me during the whole exchange. In fact, I couldn’t move at all from my position holding Keera’s limp form to my chest.

If I laid her down, it would be admitting she was gone. If I held on to her, though, burying her face in my neck and my nose in her hair, I wouldn’t have to see her golden eyes turned a dull yellow without the spark of her life to fill them. I wouldn’t have to look at the hole in her chest that I had put there, piercing her heart.

A heart for a Heart.

In contrast to the tumult inside me, the world beyond had calmed. The red hue of the sun had faded to a gentle gold that drifted in through the window in beams, revealing motes and eddies of dust. The rumbling and screams had quieted, and the world was still, as if the moment was suspended endlessly in time.

I had no wish to change it. I would sit there until my body gave out if it meant never letting go of Keera.

There was nothing left in the world but me and Keera’s lifeless form—until a hand landed on my shoulder.

My head snapped up, tears in my eyes as I finally summoned enough breath to tell Kelvar to leave me alone. I did not care that he was already dead, I would find a way to kill him nonetheless, for he had cost me this. He had guessed the price I would have to pay and refused to tell me.

Instead, I looked up into a pale face with kind eyes rimmed by silvery white lashes. I blinked and looked back and forth between the woman and the bed, which now lay empty—except for the gemstone that lay on the pillow where her head had been, still in two pieces.

“Alyx,” I gasped out, my voice just a broken rasp from the force of my grief. Still, my bewilderedness seeped into my tone.

“Let me see,” Alyx said, her voice light and melodic as she nodded at Keera in my arms.

I clutched her tighter, not ready to let anybody take her from me.

“It’s okay. You can hold on to me instead.” Alyx smiled sadly, reaching out her hand to me. Warmth seemed to radiate off her, and she waited patiently.

Slowly, I peeled one of my hands from where it was tangled in Keera’s hair and grasped her fingers. They were so delicate, they must have creaked with how hard I gripped them, but she didn’t complain. Instead, she just waited patiently as I managed to loosen the vice grip of my other arm, letting Keera lay in my lap.

I would not have been able to manage it without the reassurance of her touch. Alyx kneeled before me, and her silver hair fell forward like a waterfall as she looked down. She looked so delicate and gentle that I expected her to flinch at the sight of Keera’s wound—a deep chasm beneath her ribs, still bleeding and gaping. It made me want to retch, but Alyx didn’t flinch, just reaching out and laying a hand on it.

“I can help,” she declared. “But you will need to heal her.”

I shook my head, refusing to grab on to the thread of hope her words tried to imbue me with. I could not stand it being stolen from me again.

“She’s gone,” I insisted, even though the words felt like driving the sword into my own heart this time.

It was Alyx’s turn to shake her head. “I spent decades stranded between life and death—living in the space where Keera is now. I would reckon I know it better than most.” Her smile was wry. “Her destiny is not yet decided. You can heal her.”

“I can’t heal anything.” My voice broke on the admission. I realized now the true horror of my curse—bred to hurt and never to heal.

“Of course, you can. You are my descendant as much as Kelvar’s. The power lies within you too.” Alyx released my grip and laid the hand that wasn’t on Keera’s chest on my head. Her touch was warm and sure—a bulwark against the tide of grief in my chest. And then, I felt the touch of her magic. It was a blooming, golden plant, running gentle tendrils over mine, diving through layers of storms and anger without fear.

“Only a touch of my power seems to have returned with me after so long in the in between, but it is enough to direct yours,” she admitted as vines and leaves unfurled, reaching toward a dark, quiet part of my soul.