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Tyreste pulled her closer. His breath, hot and urgent, warmed her cheek. “If your ancestors had seen the future waiting for you, they would have done it all differently. Imryll and Zofia would have laid the wardhere, as you’re going to, so none of their descendants would ever be put in the position you were. So no one, Wynter or otherwise, could return with the intention of doing harm. They would haveknownthat there are some fates worse than death.”
Ana nuzzled her face against his chest, one last bid for comfort and safety. Even breathing was a conscious act, her own body requiring specific commands simply to exist. And all the while, the sorcerer beat, beat upon her mind, demanding entry. Her defenses would soon crumble to make room for a level of focus that made holding an illusion feel like a child’s game. Mortain would fight with everything he had to keep her from finishing.
She retreated and brushed away her remaining tears. “It feels like I’m going to war, but everything is so... quiet.” She whipped her head around at the empty courtyard. Elyria had slipped away at some point, and there was no one but Ana, Tyreste, and the silvery, magical goats.
“Where do you want me?” Tyreste crossed his hands over his heart.
“I don’t... I don’t know. I have no idea.” Ana sighed. “Ah, just not near the edge of the platform.”
Tyreste gave her a quizzical look.
“It’s a long way down if things go poorly.”
“Right.” He tightened his mouth. “I’m staying close to you, until you tell me otherwise.”
Ana chewed the inside of her mouth. She could talk to him all night, discuss what would happen, what might go wrong, and what to expect. But all it would do was prolong what shemustdo. Ten years she’d been preparing forthismoment. A Meduwyn had started this war, and only a Meduwyn could end it, and if she could not find it within her to see it done, she’d be sentencing her children to the same terrible fate.
Tyreste was right. Thereweresome fates worse than death.
Ana closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift. She saw the frozen trees and strange goats disappear and the icy shelf fall away—all of it, everything, even her love—until she was alone in the void.
Drawing one final breath for strength, she released the bars of the cage suppressing Mortain.
You devious girl! Using my own power against me after the gift I’ve given you? The joy I returned to your cold, miserable life? What do you imagine will happen, going against me? What could you possibly be thinking right now that you would stand againstme?
Ana held her place in the darkness, where fear couldn’t breathe.
You think I cannot see what you are? What you aim to do?
I hope you can. Because it isyourmagic I’m using to keep you from ever harming a Ravenwood ever again. Your daughter’s wards persisted through death, and so will mine.
You merely encourage more creative ways of achieving the same end!
No. For even if you sire more and more of your ilk, they will never reach these spires again. No Meduwyn will ever be allowed to fly these skies. No creature bearing ill intent, regardless of bloodline, will ever fly these skies. And good luck to you luring a Ravenwood south of Witchwood Cross, now that they know the depths of your resourcefulness.
A peal of thunder tore through the sky, rattling the courtyard. Ana staggered sideways, her arms out for balance. Tyreste yelped.
My resourcefulness is why you are even there, girl. I have waited thousands of years, and I can wait thousands more. You can outsmart me, but you’ll never outlast me.
The ice cracked under her feet, splitting. With her eyes still squeezed shut, she used her senses to dance out of the danger, trusting Tyreste could handle himself. Elsewhere in the castle, she heard shouting.
You are done plaguing the Ravenwoods. And you are done plaguing the Wynters. My children will not even know yourname,sorcerer. We will strike you from—
A boom split the sky above. Instinct alone pushed Ana from harm’s way as she dodged the catastrophic thud that shattered part of the platform. Screams tore out, followed by more crashes, stone erupting and colliding with stone.
The castle was tearing itself apart.
“Ana! You’re too close to the edge!” Tyreste cried. She sensed the panicked hesitation in his voice and silently begged him not to approach, to stay out of her reach, which was as treacherous as Mortain’s.
Do you see now? It isn’t me tearing their world down around them. It’s you! How many more will you kill to save them?
You have no power over me. You never did.
You haven’t thought this through at all, have you? Once you banish our blood from these walls, what will become of the phoenix and the little bird inside her?
Ana reached through the darkness for something to steady her, but she was alone. She’dchosenthis, and there was nothing and no one but herself to call for aid.
Stupid girl. Foolish girl. What you’re attempting to do will kill youandyour child.
