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Torn between surrendering and letting the spark burn me up, I heaved my heavy limbs forward. The spark, I had to follow the hopeful spark as all around the masses toppled like dominoes.
Lark, hold on, I’m coming for you…
Then Lark tore his hand from his brother’s shoulder and kicked Razak in the back.
Razak pitched forward. The pulsing, lashing power cut off. He let out a cry and tumbled down the steps, sprawling into the motionless half-numbed crowd.
Lark buckled, clutched his head, bent double, and staggered backward. “Someday… we’ll be together… I’ll wait for that tomorrow… Someday… be together… wait… tomorrow… Someday… together, tomorrow.”
Heat began to thaw out my limbs as Razak’s vampiric pull retreated. “Lark?” I touched his shoulder.
“Get away!” He tried to run and fell. “Stay back. I can’t…” His chest heaved. He thrust out a hand, holding me off. “I can’t control it. Arin—” He gasped, then clutched his head again. “I’ll wait for that tomorrow—Arin, kill me, kill me now… Please. I can’t—it’s too bright, too much, gods, help me.”
My thoughts moved through molasses, slow to catch up. He’d taken Razak’s power. A power he’d never wanted, but desired. It would tear him apart, and he’d let it. Because in his mind, he deserved to die so that others lived.
I pulled him into my arms. He fought, thumped at my chest, my face, tried to writhe free, lashed and bucked. My crown toppled off. But I had him—I had him.
“No, Arin, hurt you, stop, let go… I can’t… Tomorrow… together… some daytomorrowtogethersomeday.”
I grasped his face in my hands. He’d squeezed his eyes closed. His lips moved, as though in prayer, repeating the same song words over and over. My Lark, my Prince of Storms. He clung to those words, clinging to the pieces of himself as he broke apart in my arms.
“Lark, listen, I’m here, hold on, hold on to me.”
“It’s terrible and brilliant and I want it… I’ll hurt you, everyone… I’m worse than him. I like it, I want it—”
I pulled his head against my shoulder. “I’ve got you. You’re nothing like him. You’re stronger than he is. He made it terrible, but you can make it right. I love you, Lark. You’re not alone. I have you.” I had to help him, to stop his agony. Somehow.
Draven knelt. “What can I do?”
I didn’t know. I didn’t know how to help him. “Draven, Razak… Get Razak…” I searched the bottom of the steps, but Razak's body was gone. It didn’t matter. Only Lark mattered. “Help me, Draven. Help me save him.”
“How?”
There was a way. There was always a way.
“It’s madness,” Lark hissed. “It desires…”
My gaze snagged on my crown nearby, sparkling in sunlight.
Sunlight.
The clouds that always smothered Pain’s city had broken open, letting in a waterfall of sunlight. The rain had stopped. Light warmed the steps and bathed Pain’s citizens in its warm glow, stirred them from Razak’s onslaught.
There was hope, there wasalwayshope.
“You saved them, Lark. You saved them. You are the best of us. You have to believe me.” I cupped his distraught, pale face in my hands. “You can do this. Hold on, please hold on…” I silently pleaded with Draven. We’d struggled and fought, the three of us, but we were here, together. That had to mean something. War, Love, Pain.
Draven glanced at my glittering crown. “Shatter them,” he said. “All of them.”
Yes, with the crowns gone, Razak had said the power would unravel.
Shatterlands.
Shatter the crowns.
But we needed all four courts. We needed Justice.
“Find Noemi, Draven, go—find her. We need her now.”
