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The Reaper was gone, but Ember wasn’t dead. Tatters of flesh hung from her skull; her eyeless sockets locked on me while I panted in horror. Lyrae tapped the knife against my shoulder.
“Finish her off, princess. It’s cruel to let her suffer so.”
“I can’t.I can’t do it.” This wasn’t fair.This was Ember.
Ember, who I’d loved like a sister my whole life. We’d slept in the same bed since we could walk, told each other every secret, every dream, every wish we’d ever had. She was my only friend, when there had been no one else.
I couldn’t be the one to kill her.I couldn’t.
I heaved up a stream of bile into a greasy puddle.
“You must.” Lyrae pressed the hilt of her knife into my palm, her tone ice-cold. “I won’t clean up your mess. Kill her and be done with it.” I tossed the knife away, my hand shaking.
“No. I won’t.” I tried to crawl away, tried not to look, but the stench of rot permeated everything, and I gagged again, a stream of drool trailing from my mouth, tears blinding me.
Lyrae jerked me cruelly to my feet and wrapped my fingers around the knife. Through my tears, Ember writhed on the ground, her black rotting skin an obscene contrast with the red silky dress, her curly hair falling out in patches.
I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t kill my only friend.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Please don’t make me do this.”
“You caused her agony, princess.” Lyrae’s voice filled with cruel amusement. “It’s only fair you finish her off.”
My body torqued at the ungodly sound that came out of Ember’s mouth, the keening wail of pain. She was suffering. Because of me.This was because of me. I gripped the knife tighter. “Where?”
“The chest. Where her heart used to be.”
I closed my eyes, then stabbed downwards. The point went straight through Ember’s rotting body into the pavement, I rolled away, lying on the filthy stones, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
“Very good, princess.”
“You said I could save her.”
“I said Fae magic could kill the Reaper. As far as the host…well, nothing saves a mortal once a Reaper has devoured its soul. You never asked the price, princess, you only asked if it could be done.” Lyrae stared down at me; her gaze mocking before she squatted down and pulled her knife out of my shaking hand.
“There was something Torin left out of her letter. You can claim the magic for yourself, but the magic will claim you right back. Through blood magic.” At my blank look, she chuckled.
“By killing someone you love.”
“Love and death are opposites. To join them together with blood is the most powerful of magicks. Now the Fae magic will never let you go, nor can it be taken from you. It is done.”
It is done.
As if something final and forever had transpired here, besides losing my only friend forever.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who had a job to do.”
“Is this another of the Oracle’s tests?” I asked carefully. This stunk of her cruelty, her plotting.
Lyrae dipped her head, but not before I glimpsed her half smile. “You can call it that, if you wish.”
“If that message gets through, Torin will die.”
She shrugged. “Not my problem. My only task was ensuring the magic was bound to you eternally. Now that’s done, Torin does not matter.” She spun on her heel and left me alone with the rotting corpse. My only friend, who’d followed me out of love and duty and I’d let her down at every turn.
I didn’t know how long I lay staring at what remained of my friend. I only knew I would never hear her voice again. Never hear her laugh.
