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She met his eyes briefly, lips pursed tight. While her form appeared as solid as it had inside the crystal, the edges rippled like smoke. She collected the pieces of light in her palms, as gingerly as one would handle their most fragile treasure. “I must act quickly,” she said, voice as hollow as his. “We don’t know what he’ll become without his heart.”
A bolt of alarm shot through him. “Whatwhowill become?”
It was fruitless to ask; he already knew the answer. A dark shadow drew his gaze to the center of the meadow. It towered twice his height, a shapeless mass of writhing tendrils that lapped out in every direction, fluttering at a violent pace as if on an invisible storm wind.
Emylia strode straight for the shadow, her moves not restricted by the sluggish momentum that had fallen over the plane of the living. Belatedly, Teryn followed her, felt the buzzing pressure between his feet and the earth beneath them. “What are you doing?”
“An ethera without a heart-center becomes a wraith,” she said, “but Morkai…he could become something worse. I have to save him.”
Teryn hadn’t a clue how Emylia planned to save the sorcerer, nor did he think Morkai should be saved at all.
He could become something worse.
Teryn didn’t like the sound of that.
His ethera constricted with fear as they approached. The shadow that was Morkai’s ethera gave no reaction. It had no face. No eyes. Nothing to suggest it was sentient at all.
Emylia stepped far closer to it than Teryn dared, the two orbs of light cradled in her palms. She stared up at the shadow. A desperate emotion twisted her features, tugged the edges of her lips, turned her eyes down at the corners. Whether it was hope or terror, Teryn knew not.
“You sacrificed the first half of your heart-center to save my soul,” she whispered, voice trembling.
The shadow shifted, drawing closer to her as if to hear her better. The undulating tendrils began to contract, shrinking more and more until the shadow was only as tall as Teryn. Little by little, the edges of the shadow became smooth, taking on the semblance of hands, legs, a torso. It resembled a wraith now, its body colorless and semi-transparent. Only its face remained hidden behind the rippling tendrils.
Emylia spoke again. “You sacrificed the second half of your heart-center when you tethered your soul to the crystal. In return, you became heartless.”
The wraith lifted a hand and brushed it over his shadowed head. His fingers smoothed the undulating tendrils, leaving gray flesh behind to form Morkai’s face. Teryn tensed, eager to evade Morkai’s gaze, but the sorcerer only had eyes for Emylia. Morkai stared down at the seer, expression cold. “Don’t you dare condemn me, Emylia. Everything I’ve done has been for you.”
Her brows lowered into a glare. “You didn’t do this for me. I never wanted you to do the things you’ve done. I never wanted you to become Morkaius.”
“You were the one who helped me learn how to become Morkaius. You gave me the knowledge I sought. How could I not use it to bring you back?”
“I regret what I channeled for you. I regret it with all my heart.”
He bared his teeth. “You told me you loved me. That you’d do anything for me.”
“You used me. Manipulated me.” Her chest heaved, shoulders tense.
Morkai’s throat bobbed. “Is that really how you feel?”
She nodded.
Rage flashed over his face, but it didn’t linger. His jaw shifted side to side. When he spoke, his voice quavered with emotion. “I can’t apologize. I did what I thought was right. Nothing you say will change that. Hate me now if you must. I will continue to love you as I always have, and I will cling to the love you gave me when you meant it.”
Her chin wobbled. Tears glazed her eyes. “I don’t hate you, Morkai. I could never hate you. Long ago, you were the man I loved.” She stepped closer. Morkai flinched, his ethera going rigid. He recoiled as she lifted a hand but froze as she brought it to his cheek. Shadows rippled beneath her touch. Her lips curled into a sad smile, her eyes mournful. “I loved Desmond and always will.”
Morkai’s expression softened with a startling tenderness. “Emylia—”
“But you’re not him.”
With the hand that still cradled the light, she thrust her fist into Morkai’s chest. He cried out, stumbling back. Emylia retreated as well, hand now empty.
The points of light glowed from within Morkai’s chest, burning brighter and brighter until they merged as one. The light coursed through him, from his chest to his hands, feet, and head. Color spilled over his gray flesh, painting his pale eyes, his dark hair, a simple shirt, and a pair of trousers. Years filled out his cheeks somewhat, until he appeared a slightly younger version of himself. Teryn recognized this manifestation from Emylia’s memories—it was Desmond. Though the edges of his form weren’t fully solid, he was no longer transparent like a wraith.
He fell to his knees, hand clutched over the center of his torso. “Emylia.”
She ran to him, framed his shoulders with her hands. “Des!”
He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. Elation filled his gaze, tugged his lips into a smile. He trailed his fingertips over the curve of her cheek, her neck—
