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What does she want with my husband?

The question will plague me.

All thoughts of her motives vanish the moment I step into the burial chamber. And there’s no mistaking that’s what this is. In the center of the torchlit space lies a white marble sarcophagus, the lid removed. From here, I can only make out a glimpse of scale armor, but I know—it’s Memnon. Even if the bond wasn’t indicating it, the slope of that chest and the sheen of that bronze armor would.

A ragged sob rips from my throat. I didn’t believe he was asleep, not truly, not until now.

I drag myself to the stone coffin, the blistering pain of my wounds dulled by the deeper ache in my heart. My gaze barely touches on Memnon’s arresting, sleep-softened features before my legs give out. I’m awash in pain—pain so dark and bleak, I don’t know how I’ll surface from it.

He’s already out of my reach.Enchanted to a hundred years of sleep. If it were mortal magic, maybe I could break the spell, but Eislyn is a fairy, and their magic is different,incompatible.

Even if the spell could be broken, I’m dying. Beyond that, Memnon’s empire is now overrun by battle-ready Romans, his traitorous warriors, and a scheming fairy.

We have too many enemies and not enough time. A tear slips out.

I place a hand lightly on the ruined flesh of my abdomen. I want retribution, but more than anything, I want peace. For me, for my soul mate. A single lifetime where we can love each other without the fear of our enemies killing us.

I struggle to pull myself up, gnashing my teeth together against the pain. Darkness pulls at my vision, and at this point, my magic is likely the only thing keeping it at bay, but I manage to get my legs locked under me. I’ve got life left in me yet.

I glance once more into the coffin where Memnon rests, still as death. Not even his chest moves with his breathing. I can tell through our bond that he still clings to life, but he gives few signs of it.

I stroke his hair back, drops of my blood and tears hitting his armor.

“This is not how we end,” I whisper. “We are eternal.”

Something dark and resolute moves through me.

We are eternal.

If we cannot have this life, then we shall have another.

Eislyn isn’t the only one capable of using extraordinary measures.

I am as well.

And whatever spell she’s placed on Memnon, I can make one stronger. It might not break the enchantment he’s under, but it can usurp it.

Some final fire stirs in me, rousing me.

I can do this, for him, for us.

Imust.

I just need a little help.

My grip on the sarcophagus tightens as I draw my magic together. There’s precious little power left in me, and nothing my body wants to give up. But there are other sources of magic—in the air and, more notably, in the ground. The earth is already feasting on the trail of blood I’ve left. I can sense the magic beneath me clamoring for it.Hungry.

There are things that rule that magic, things that have whispered to me every so often. They might be willing to help me cast a spell of the magnitude I need…but they will exact a price.

I bow my head over the sarcophagus and draw the words out. “I call on any god who will answer: Memnon the Indomitable shall sleep the sleep of immortals. And he shall awakenonlyby my hand. I bind my soul to this vow. Even in death, I shall be beholden to it. Take what you must to make it so.”

For several moments, all I hear are the soft, reverent hisses of the torches. Just when I’m nearly sure the spell didn’t work, a low moan starts up in the distance, rattling the torches in their sconces. It builds into a howling wind that tears through the room, blowing my hair back. As it moves through me, I feel it pull away bits of my essence. The blood on my skin vanishes, as do the fresh tears on my cheeks. Something dark and hungry slipsinsideme through my wounds, and I gasp at the insidious intrusion.

Once this essence is within me, it begins to spread. I choke on my own breath, my hand going to my abdomen. Whatever god answered my plea, it’s named its price. I can feel it feasting on what’s left of my life.

The unearthly wind circles the room several times, then sweeps out, gone just as quickly as it came. The pain eating me from the inside out, however, is still there.

I stagger, struggling to catch my breath. I lean against the sarcophagus, my eyes drawn back to Memnon.