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The world and everything around me stopped. The shouting, the bodies flying, the hoarse sound of Kalen yelling my name. If I looked up at the sky, I knew I would find the moon and the stars had stopped their endless movement, too. But I didn’t look up,only forward.
I barely felt the impact of Kalen’s arms around me. I barely noticed the world fading around us as we projected from the Well.
I just watched. Watched as another life flowed out into the ether. Then complete darkness, but even in the pit of nothing, two hollowed eyes remained, warning.
Death was not coming for me; it was already here.
THE DARKNESS SHROUDED USin a pool of night as we moved through the Astral Plane across the Continent.
The first time we projected from the Binding to this new world, it felt like dipping my toes into space, finding it freezing, and jumping back out into another spot in the universe. Tonight was different. Everything around me moved at a fractional speed. The sound of nothing winnowed in my ears as I buried my face into Kalen’s chest, holding on as tightly as I could.
I was afraid, not of whatever waited for us on the other end of the world, but of what I thought I may have left behind. A part of me dripping from the blade of a sword, nailing a stranger’s skull against one of the walls in Leoth. Wind whipped at my cheeks as the blackness tunneled us swiftly, though it felt like the other side was intent on resisting.
Kalen and I waded to its end sluggishly.
Eventually, we landed, and much more gracefully than the last time the two of us had traveled together. As soon as my feet were on solid ground, I slumped to my knees feeling ruined. The deeply stained wood floors beneath blurred around my empty hands as I stared at them. I blinked a couple of times trying to clear away the fog that had ensconced me since the battle’s end. It was thick and bleary, tapering as I looked inward. Scrutinizing the faint lines on my palm, I tried to feel anything other than deep, aching pain, but I couldn’t. It was so all-consuming that it ran from my ears to my stomach to the center of my thighs. My entire body tugged toward my center, trying to coil itself tightly around the remainder of my soul and protect it at all costs. Myshoulders shook violently as they strained.
A shadow passed across the paneled floors, and I knew what was coming. Kalen jerked me up by my elbows and pulled me into a tight embrace. His pinched breathing made me think he was trying to put me back together by force. Even I knew his powers would not be enough.
Looking over his shoulders I stared curiously at the tiny beads of water racing down the back of his armor. A few more splattered against the dark fabric of his vest and soaked through. Slowly, I lifted my wobbly fingers to my face and felt the steady stream that rushed against my warm skin. How hadn’t I noticed I was crying? And crying for what? The man that I had killed? Mirona, who appeared to have been happier dead? Or myself and the naive mind that had been imprisoned under the taut muscled reflexes of an immortal murderess?
Was that what I was? A murderess, shoved into the Binding to be reformed, only to return the same as I had always been.
I refused to wipe the tears from my cheeks. I’d let them dry to a thin crust over my skin—as a reminder. For once, I knew something of myself, and I would never forget it again. I wasn’t the girl who picked fruit from high trees or braided moon lilies in her hair under a perfect night sky. I wasn’t the girl who marveled at pretty dresses and sweet cakes in tin trays. Mirrored in the place where memories lie, my truest form stared back at me, disgusted by the weak thing I had become. She wore brown fighting leathers and finally held the heart of a traitor in her hand, still pumping. My heart.
“Are you okay?” Kalen’s voice was hoarse.
I pulled away, not startled but awake. “I’m fine.”
I wasn’t.
“Are you hurt?” Kalen shifted my body from side to side, searching for any more cuts from demon blades. I didn’t know. Was I? Did I care? Kalen checked the wound he had healedearlier, placing the flat side of his hand against it to feel for any warmth of infection. When he was satisfied there was none, he asked one last question, “Gwynore, are you going to be alright?”
Would I ever be?
“Yes,” I lied. Kalen placed his hand against the side of my neck, holding my chin in his fingers. The worry faded on his face, replaced with a curious expression.
“I guess I should be grateful,” he said after minutes of staring blankly at my face. Again, he said, “I am grateful,” and his fingers gave way from my face, “that you are only an idiot and not a wounded idiot.”
The air in the room condensed so dramatically that I almost felt headspun. I looked him up and down, overcoming my temporary shock. “What did you just say to me?”
“I think you heard, Gwyn.” He stomped across the foyer—I took notice that we were in the foyer of a grand house—to lean on a small black console draped in a pale blue chiffon table runner. The light fabric puckered as his trousers pushed against it.
“Do you not understand how grave the consequences...” he began, losing control of his breath. It rattled out of him, something deep inside his chest coming loose. “If I lost you again…” he started, but I wouldn’t let him finish. I wouldn’t let him reprimand me for trying to do something—anything, to save lives. His, mine. A solid hurt formed in the back of my mouth as I thought of Mirona and how she had looked at that sword like a blessing when it ripped her in two.
“Are you seriously trying to scold me for saving your life? Did you not see that mountain of a demon headed straight for you? He practically had your name carved out on his blade.”
“Actually, I did, and I had it handled.”
Oh, this gods-damned bastard!This miserable, rotten bastard!I fought the urge to pull my hair out by its roots. Andthe groan that rolled its way out into the echoing chamber above me? That, I couldn’t fight.
“Grumble about it all you want, Gwyn, but you put yourself at risk tonight.” He folded his bare forearms against one another, looking as righteous as ever, plucking a tattered thread that hung from a tear in the rolled-up sleeve of his doublet.
I scoffed. “Well, you didn’t seem to mind my help!”
He did mind, I knew that, but I was desperate to defend myself.
“You gave me no choice!” Kalen looked at me, dumbfounded.
