Page 28

CHAPTER 28

ZAIDE

F lames filled my gaze, yet my heart froze in my chest as Charlie charged over the fence with raw panic in his eyes. I knew then. Clawdia is facing Fafnir alone. We left her, and he attacked.

I couldn’t reach her through our bond, meaning, as her first vision had predicted, he’d prevented her from using her powers.

“I saw the blue,” he said in a rushed explanation. His usually messy brown hair was wild, as though he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly. His eyes were wide with panic that made my stomach clench. “I can’t get in. The fire-retardant potion didn’t work on me.” He showed us his hand, which was red and blistered. “But he’s in there, and something just happened to our bond. I can’t feel her. We need to get in there now, or we’re all dead.”

“Explain,” Baelen commanded.

Charlie clutched at his chest, fingers digging into his shirt as though he could physically grasp the severed connection. “It just … snapped. Something is still there, but something else snapped.” His voice cracked. “I’m still alive, so I’m taking it as a win, but I’m not sure for how much longer.”

My own panic rising, I took a deep breath and healed his hand. He didn’t notice. His eyes stared frantically at the fire, searching for a way through the wall.

“You’re a dragon, Charlie. Your scales will protect you,” Baelen urged. “Change.”

“It’s not a normal fire,” he replied.

“We can heal you,” I promised.

He nodded; then his fragile human body changed into a golden beast that rivaled the size of the house. He roared, and I held my breath as he walked through the flames … just as they flickered out.

Luck? Or something worse?

We didn’t hesitate. Baelen and I raced toward the house as Charlie changed back to human and followed us.

Through the window into the kitchen, we could see a battlefield. Furniture was overturned. Walls were spotted with blood.

We charged through the back door, immediately freezing at the sight in front of us. Clawdia was crouched in her human form, naked, her golden hair streaked with blood, and in her hand was a gleaming silver dagger that seemed to absorb the firelight rather than reflect it.

Fafnir lay crumbled in front of her. She looked … proud? Smug? I’d never seen her with such an expression, but despite her injury and the terrible sheen to her skin, it was clear she believed she’d won.

My heart lightened as she lunged forward, the dagger aimed at his heart. Fafnir twisted at the last second but not quickly enough to avoid the blade entirely. It sank into his shoulder, and he let out a roar.

I stood transfixed. Her eyes burned with a fierce, determined violet light as she thrust the blade forward again and again, forcing Fafnir to retreat, dragging his body to the back of the kitchen.

She landed another blow, this time to the chest, and his hands scrambled at the blade, clawing at the skin of her arms and wrists. She let go of the blade as he collapsed to the floor.

She did it? She’s killed him?

There was nothing but the sound of our heavy, rapid breathing as we waited. It felt too good to be true.

She turned around to face us, a tired smile pulling her lips up as her eyes fluttered with weakness. We took a step forward, and I reached for her threads to heal her, only to find that my power had not returned with the death of Fafnir.

My gaze flicked to the puddle of blood and flesh on the floor behind her and gasped when I saw his hand move to the dagger’s hilt. His fingers wrapped around it with deliberate slowness. Blood bubbled from the corner of his mouth, running down his chin in a thin crimson line. His smile was terrible to behold—the smile of a being who had lived for centuries and had no intention of facing death alone.

With a sudden movement that belied his wounded state, he yanked the dagger from his chest. A fresh gout of blood followed it, spattering across the checkered floor.

“Clawdia!” I shouted in warning.

Time seemed to slow and stretch. I saw every horrible detail with preternatural clarity. Fafnir’s bloody fingers tightened around the dagger’s hilt. His position shifted as he gathered what remained of his strength.

Clawdia’s eyes widened as she turned and realized her mistake.

I tried to move, but my limbs felt leaden, my movements sluggish as though I were wading through deep water. Baelen lunged forward, but even his supernatural speed seemed insufficient against the inexorable flow of these terrible seconds.

“If I am to die,” he snarled, “then you will all accompany me.”

He lunged toward Clawdia, the dagger aimed at her heart.

Just when I thought my heart would stop from pure panic, Daithi arrived, his angular features set in an expression of fierce determination. His eyes burned with urgent purpose as he pushed Clawdia out of the way, into Charlie’s arms, and raised his own weapon in defense.

A book?

The blow meant for Clawdia plunged through the pages of a thick book, only grazing Daithi’s chest before Fafnir roared, his breathing ragged and wet as he tugged the blade out.

Savida charged into the kitchen, his demonic wings partially unfurled ready for flight, but his entry caused Daithi to make the same mistake Clawdia made.

Daithi looked at him and mouthed something, just as Fafnir’s dying body, animated by pure evil, lurched forward and drove the enchanted blade into his heart.

A scream lodged in my throat, trapped there by the horror of what I was witnessing. Time seemed to resume its normal pace, rushing forward with cruel momentum.

“Daithi!” Savida cried, his wings spreading wider as he reached out with desperate fingers that would close on empty air as Daithi crumbled to the ground.

Finally breaking free from the momentary paralysis, I lunged forward too, knowing even as I moved, I would be too late.

Savida reached him first, his demonic wings carrying him across the room faster than any of us could move. His face transformed from its usual cheerful expression to one of absolute anguish, the kind of naked emotion that made my chest ache in sympathy.

“Daithi,” he breathed. He looked up at us, desperately. “Heal him. I can’t?—”

“It’s not working,” I gasped. No matter how I looked, the threads weren’t there. I couldn’t help. I couldn’t save them.

“Kill that bastard faster!” Charlie yelled as Clawdia collapsed gasping, a wet, bubbling sound escaping her, sending my pulse racing.

Fafnir had collapsed to his knees, blood pouring from his wound, but his eyes gleamed with savage satisfaction. Even in his final moments, he took pleasure in the pain he had caused.

“Spell … fixed … time.” Fafnir let out a laugh.

We can’t use our power until an allotted time. His death wouldn’t allow us our power so we could heal our dying.

But it would make me feel better.

I gripped his neck and squeezed, crushing it until he died, and tossed his body to the ground and spat on it.

Then I turned to the nightmare unraveling in front of me. My soul pair and my savior, both injured with no way to save them. And if they died, so would we.

“You guys portaled in. Maybe the garden is outside the spell,” Charlie rushed out.

Without any more instruction, Baelen scooped Clawdia up and rushed outside, Charlie following, as I helped Savida pick up Daithi. Blood poured from him like a cataract, lining the ground in red, and he didn’t make a sound as we moved him.

We laid them down together in the grass outside of the burned ring and surrounded them, but still, our powers were gone. We couldn’t even create a portal out of this spell’s grasp.

“You can’t leave me, Clawdicat. You can’t give me everything and then take it away.” Charlie’s voice broke, and a tear tracked down his face as stroked her still arm and face. “It’s not fair.”

His bond snapped—he thinks we will all die but him.

Breathing was difficult as I watched my soul pair die for the second time. Her eyes were clouded, her skin cold, and her breaths so shallow I knew she didn’t have long. We didn’t have long. This time, I didn’t pray to my gods. I only held Baelen’s shaking hand as we waited for a miracle.

“There has to be something we can do. A potion. A spell. An artifact.” Baelen quivered. “It can’t end like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Daithi whispered, his voice barely audible. His fingers trembled as they clutched at Savida, and a single tear tracked down Savida’s dark cheek. “We should … have had … more time.”

Savida pleaded, his voice dropping to a desperate whisper, “We have to see the mummies. You promised we’d travel this realm. I’m not ready.”

“In … our next life.”

Savida made a sound of pure anguish, pressing his forehead against Daithi’s. “No,” he pleaded, his wings curling around them both in a protective cocoon.

Daithi’s green eyes locked with mine briefly, and with emotion choking me, tears pouring silently, I took the moment to say, “Thank you. For everything. For rescuing me. For bringing me here to meet them. For attempting to save her life—our lives. I hope we meet again in our next life so I can repay that debt.”

Savida squeezed my hand and sobbed. “You brought us new adventures and life. There is no debt, only love.”

“I hope there’s cheese wherever you’re going, Savida,” Charlie croaked with a trembling smile. “Daithi, you’re a moody bastard, but you changed my life the day you saw me and sent me a scam email. I’m so grateful.”

The night air filled with our grief, a grief so profound it caused the skies to cry and splashed us with its tears.

Savida’s cry shattered whatever stunned silence had fallen over us. It wasn’t a human sound—not even close.

He wrapped his wings tighter around them, as though he could somehow shield Daithi from death itself. Tears fell from his eyes onto Daithi’s face, tracing clean lines through the blood that had splattered there. I touched my faei friend as his chest lifted and rose for the final time, and Savida shuddered as he sobbed over him.

“No,” he keened, rocking Daithi’s body against his chest. “Not like this. Please, not like this.”

Goodbye, my friend. May your spirit find rest before you begin life anew.

In the corner of my clouded eyes, I saw Baelen shake his head, lost for words, his face the picture of devastation as he cupped Clawdia’s jaw and stared, as though trying to absorb her image. She was gasping, a wet and terrifying sound, completely unaware of us in her suffering.

We’d lose her next. We’d join Daithi and Savida in death soon, only we wouldn’t get the privilege of goodbyes.

Then Baelen gasped. “Threads.”

Our power returned.

Within seconds, I funneled power into any threads surrounding me. There was no finesse to my actions, only a flood of desperation to save us all.

Then I blacked out.