Page 207 of Vasmora

“Dear gods,” Rykaia said. “I kissed those lips once.” Hand covering her mouth, she shook her head. “I’ll never look at them the same after this.”

Chest rising and falling, Kazhimyr opened his eyes, coughing as he looked around. “What happened?” he rasped.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed blade, Zevander’s voice remained guarded.

“I remember telling you about The Rotting Tree. You stepped inside the circle of flames and … I woke up.” Wincing, Kazhimyr sat up and clutched the top of his head.

Zevander waved his hand, and the flames died out around us. “After that, you attempted to impale me with an ice spear, lyse my cells, and turn Maevyth into an ice sculpture.”

Kazhimyr frowned. “And I’m still alive?”

“Only by the grace of the gods.” Zevander jerked his head my way. “And Maevyth. She cured you of the infection.”

“I don’t hear the ringing anymore. Or the noise.” Kazhimyr lifted the leg of his trousers, where faint black veins remained across a patch at his calf, and traced his finger over there. “The lump is gone. That horrible feeling of something beneath my skin.”

Dolion hobbled closer. “Tell me about the noise.”

Gesturing toward his ear, Kazhimyr shook his head. “It’s like walking into a ballroom with hundreds of conversations humming. A constant humming. But there was always one single voice that stood out from all the others.”

“Pestilios, I presume.”

“It commanded me.” Kazhimyr stared at the ground before him, a concentrated expression crinkling his brow. “And when it spoke, that’s when I would lose track of time.”

Clutching his chin, Dolion seemed thoughtful. “A collective mind.”

“What?”

“Your thoughts were connected to every other infected individual.” Dolion waved his hand. “The hum of conversation was the collection of infected.”

Kazhimyr frowned. “How is that possible?”

“The infection, though I don’t entirely know how.”

Zevander reached out a hand to Kazhimyr and pulled him to his feet. “You should probably eat something.”

The other Letalisz lowered his gaze. “You should’ve killed me.” His lips formed a hard line. “I did this. I brought destruction to this world.”

Zevander gripped Kazhimyr’s shoulder. “And now you’ll help us destroy Cadavros.”

Kazhimyr nodded, that troubled look on his face never fading. “Is there a way? If there is, I’ll do it myself.”

“You can’t do it yourself. It requires a blood sacrifice.”

“But perhaps you can offer some insights that might give us an advantage,” Dolion added.

“Of course. Whatever I can do. I won’t let you down this time.”

Huffing, Zevander crossed his arms, sending me a quick glance. “I can’t fault you when your mind was not your own. Regardless, I can’t trust you roaming around Eidolon unguarded. You’ll have someone watching you at all times.”

Again, Kazhimyr lowered his head and nodded. “I understand. In lucid moments, I did try to protect her. I wanted to protect her,” he said, eyes cast away from mine. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“You’re welcome.” I stepped toward him but hesitated. Something compelled me to wrap my arms around him. Perhaps just a sense of closure to the nightmare of General Loyce. I lunged forward on impulse, enveloping him in my arms, knowing damned well Zevander was watching his every move. “Thank you for being a familiar voice in the dark.” At first, he tensed, but then I felt him wrap his arms around me in return.

“You guys make me want to cry.” Rykaia engulfed both of us in an embrace. “Keep your lips shut, Kaz, my face is far too close to your mouth.”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

DOLION