Page 15 of The Enduring Universe (The Rages Trilogy #3)

IRAVAN

He searched for her.

He had come to himself still hovering in the air above Irshar, but Iravan did not return to the Garden to check the damage there like he should have. Gathering the everpower to him like a cloak, he forced his battered body to fly back over the jungle, his heart racing with a deep, slow terror that built within him like a choked scream.

Where are you? he thought frantically. Where are you?

He tried to infiltrate her Etherium. If he could only sense her—if he only knew that she was alive—that she had been unhurt—

His attempt was futile. He’d never had any control in the third vision.

A sob built in his chest, hurtling out of him in turbulent breaths. His trembling hand grasped the blade of pure possibility hanging around his neck. He could not accept it. He would not believe it.

Had the destruction of the jungle hurt her somehow, when the Virohi had escaped Irshar—when he’d failed in his attempt to kill them? She had forced the situation in attempting to pull the cosmic creatures into Irshar again. He was certain the Virohi would not have bounded back into the Moment with such force, precipitating its destruction, if she had not fought him. But he did not care about any of it. All he knew was that she needed to be alive. That if this had killed her, he would go mad.

The stone blade felt sharp against his fingers. He could use it now to bring her back to him. Surely possibility could be used in such a way? He had been saving this last bit of everdust for a last secret mission—secret, even from himself, for he could not afford to acknowledge what it meant. But if Ahilya was dead, the reason to save this last everdust became moot.

Below him, the jungle was a ruined mess. Tree trunks lay haphazardly, smashed into chunks. Dust and earth ballooned everywhere, and rivers of mud cascaded like avalanches. Hills and valleys formed unnaturally, and wet earth snaked up Iravan’s nose even through his air shield. At one point, he saw a whole section of the jungle cut off, leading into a massive yawning crevasse so black that he could not fathom how deep it went. It appeared as though a gigantic creature had taken a bite out of the jungle, and Iravan shivered, his eyes scanning for movement and light within the torn landscape.

Despair curdled within him. The everpower burned his skin. He saw his failure in the utter stillness of this terrible jungle where life had been erased. His power scored his own body, the shards of his air shield inflicting pain, and he felt the planet shudder as if it could feel his intention. He would bury himself, and everything else in his rage and grief. It would not be a conscious decision. It would simply… be.

Light flickered in the depths of the dark green.

Iravan blinked.

He saw them. Archeologists of Irshar, looking miniscule from up where he was, but alive, walking one behind the other in single file. Amidst them he found the shape he had been looking for. He would recognize her anywhere, the bent of her body, the soft trudge that had memory of a lilting walk. His vision sharpened and he saw her face. Ahilya—in shock, and barely conscious, but unhurt. Alive.

Iravan made to fly down, to rescue her and the rest of them, and bring them back to Irshar with the everpower if he needed to. But his vision trembled, and within his constantly cycling Etherium, another voice spoke, Agni, then Bhaskar, then Mohini, his past lives overlaying one other in an awful echo.

She is corrupted, they said, their eyes glinting silver. She is sympathetic to the Virohi.

Iravan struggled against the voices, but it was as if his limbs were locked. He was imprisoned within his body, staring down at the line of archeologists, his wife at the front. The group had to traverse a dangerous jungle—it could take them days to return, and they could injure themselves. They could sicken of thirst and hunger, perhaps become lost. He spun the everpower, forcing it to respond to him, but his mind blazed with pain and Iravan retched.

And he knew.

He could not save her. He could not interfere. Not when doing so was against his capital desire. His past lives were right. She had supported the Virohi. If not for her, the cosmic creatures would be destroyed. In going to her now, he would be betraying all of his lives, his very consciousness.

A howl of anger and grief escaped him—but there was no one there to hear.

Return, Nidhirv/Jeevan/Bhaskar/Mohini/Askavetra and a dozen others commanded him, their bodies blazing in silver light, their eyes glinting.

Iravan diminished against their combined strength.

And obeyed.