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“Pulling my mate out cost me part of my soul,” Ridley tells me.
I gasp.
“Heelean’s son, Fearghas, did manage to extract a shifter from the Veil, and it cost him his ability to dematerialize.”
“But he got his mate out?” I ask.
Ridley chuckles. “The shifter was not his mate,” he explains. “To be completely honest, the extraction shouldn’t have succeeded. Whatever the reason it did, though, we cannot count on it happening again.”
“So I could be trapped, then.”
“You have to die to get into the Veil.”
I turn to Sullivan. “Humans very briefly pass through. Most souls don’t even realize they were there at all unless you have someone waiting for you on the other side.”
“Which I cannot do,” Rafferty growls.
Even if he doesn’t want to admit it, even if the truth is too painful to verbally face, he knows they’re right.
We are running out of time. While I’m better here than I was there, every morning I wake I can feel the drain on my energy. I’m tired, all the time, more so even than I was before I ever hopped on that plane to Ireland.
Taranus’s bond is steadily eating away at my soul.
The disease is slowly killing my body.
And as difficult as it is to make the call, this might actually be our only option. “If we go through with this, is there a way to purge the dark magic from Rafferty?”
Ridley’s pointed look at his brother, along with said brother’s glare, gives me the answer.
I pull away and turn toward Rafferty. “There is a way to get rid of the dark magic?”
Rafferty looks from me to Ridley. “Go ahead, brother. Tell her. Explain to Ember how you could get rid of this magic.”
Ridley’s jaw tightens. “There is a way,” he explains. “But in doing so, Rafferty would be stripped of all of his magic—good and bad, light and dark. He would become mortal. Human.”
My mouth falls open, and I turn to Rafferty. “You’ve known that? This whole time.”
“What good would it do?” he asks. “I would be human. Which would mean you and I would be in this exact same position—bonded in a way that is not conducive to survival.”
“You would be mortal.”
“And you would still be dying.”
“But you could survive. Without me. I can die knowing—”
“I cannot suffer your death.” His voice is low, tone dangerous. “I will not suffer your death.”
“Then we go through the bonding and find someone else to pull her out,” Sullivan offers.
“Who?” Rafferty demands. “Ridley has already given up half of his soul. And as badly I want this to work, I will not order another fae to do it. There is no telling what the sacrifice would be.”
“I’ll do it.” We all whirl as Fin steps into the tent. “Eavesdropping,” he says with a smile as the flap closes behind him.
“Fin, you are already dying,” I remind him. “You’ve already lost so much.”
He shrugs. “Then maybe the exchange will claim the rest of my life, and I will be free to join my love. There really is no downside for me.”
“Unless it claims your magic,” Rafferty warns him. “Then you would be human and would not be permitted to remain in the Veil.”
