Page 55 of Queen of Shadows and Ruin (The Nightfire Quartet #4)
FIFTY-FOUR
“Zarya!” Rabin shouted, running towards her and catching her in his arms as she collapsed and her body went limp. The vial tumbled from her hand, rolling along the stones with an ominous clink.
Row snatched it up and sniffed the contents. “Poison,” he said. “She…”
“Killed herself,” Kindle said.
Rabin couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He lay Zarya on the ground, her skin already turning cold. He leaned down to press his ear to her chest. Nothing.
“Zarya!” he roared. “Come back to me!”
“Rabin!” Row said. “You have to save her!”
Rabin nodded. His vision tipped and went blurry. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and it came away wet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried.
He’d never done this before. She’d only been near death when he’d saved her, not actually dead.
But this was the one that counted most.
He reached for her hand when suddenly, she began to glow. Silver starlight burst around her in a flash, curving her body off the earth. They all watched a silver shadow slowly emerge, peeling out of her skin.
Rabin’s chest constricted so tight he thought he might pass out as he watched the silver swirls morph into the shapes of two men.
The Ashvins.
After a stunned moment of disbelief, everyone burst into action.
“Stop them!” Suvanna cried, and together, five Chiranjivi called on their unique powers to surround the Ashvins. Bands of golden and fiery magic, twisting with fluid ribbons of water and air, wrapped around the twins, trapping them where they hovered.
“Zarya,” Rabin said, falling to the ground and stretching over her like he’d done in that swamp in Dharati when he’d saved her from the brink. Like he’d done only days ago when her own father had tried to murder her.
Dimly, he registered the struggle around him, but all he could focus on was Zarya, her ashen cheeks, and cooling skin. He took her hand and wrapped it with his. She felt so small and delicate. He’d have only minutes before he’d also start to drift away.
The Bandhan pulsed at his side like a second heartbeat. It ached, and it burned, searing against his skin. Almost like it felt her death, too. Rabin closed his eyes and entered the mind plane, seeking her out. He had to find her. Not only was everything resting on his shoulders, he had to save her.
He didn’t care about himself. He had never cared about himself, but she needed to live.
“Zarya,” he called, searching through the muddled layers of their connection, seeking out that bright spot that signaled her presence. He filtered out his magic, allowing it to flow through her in glowing threads of copper surrounding them both.
It was borne on instinct. Something deep inside his subconscious called to him, and he sought her out. He wandered through the paths of their connection, turning through dark, shadowed corners and halls as he hunted for the glimmer of her life spark.
In his mind, he saw himself running, tripping over endless corridors and careening around corners only to be met with long stretches of nothing. But he wouldn’t give up. He would fight for her until his very last breath.
He reached blindly into dim shadows pressing against his copper light. The darkness seemed to have no end, and he fell through it like he was sinking to the bottom of the sea.
It didn’t take long before he felt his heart slowing, his pulse turning sluggish. His chest grew tight with gasping breaths as sweat beaded on his forehead. It had been too long. He was dying, too.
“Zarya,” he gasped as he tripped, reaching out to save himself. His hands met with nothing, and he tumbled in an endless black void, end over end, as his head throbbed and his vision spun.
Still, he fought. He kicked, wrestling against an invisible current. He righted himself and landed once again on solid ground with a thump, his knees melting out from under him.
His pace was slowing, and his heart along with it. He collapsed onto all fours and began crawling, dragging himself deeper, seeking out the shimmer of Zarya shining in the dark.
He plodded slowly over cold stone as he felt death closing around him. His ribs tightened, and he choked on his dwindling breaths as his heart skipped several beats.
How much longer could he last?
Finally, the tiniest speck flared in the distance. It felt a million miles away, but he pushed forward. One hand. One knee. Again and again, he fought against the waves of death threatening to take him over.
The spot grew brighter as he gathered the last of his strength, heaving himself closer. Then he saw her. She lay on the ground with her eyes closed and her arms limp at her sides.
She was pure starlight, glowing in silver, the reflection so bright he had to shield his eyes. A wash of nausea crested over him, and he curled inwards as a wave of pain shot through his chest.
He clutched his heart as he dragged himself closer, using his arm to push himself, his feet scrambling against the ground.
He propelled himself forward with a groan born of every ounce of strength he’d cultivated through thousands of hours of training during his life—every battle he’d faced, every war he’d lost, every moment of triumph.
Each of these events had come together to mold him into the man he’d become.
When he’d fought against the kings and queens of Rahajhan, claiming land in the name of his home, when he’d stood up to his father, when Gopal had those words carved into his skin, and when he almost died trying to escape, Rabin had been preparing for this moment.
For her. He hadn’t known it until recently, but everything had been leading him to Zarya and the destiny she had to fulfill. But Rabin had a destiny, too. He’d been chosen as her protector. As the one who would save her at the end.
And fuck, it would be a cold day in hell before he failed at the one and only thing he’d been put on this plane to do.
With a final heave, he swung his arm up, wrapping his hand around her wrist, and then…they both exploded in a burst of silver starlight.