The old anger flared. “Why did you not come to Tuer? Break him free of his chains? Heal the world and stop all of this from happening?”
“I did come to Tuer, many times. He would not hear me. He would not accept my forgiveness. He wanted to suffer, and so he did, making his own plan of escape only when he saw he was poisoning the world.”
“Me. I was his plan of escape.”
“Yes.”
“But now I am dead and there is no one to free him.” She looked up into her companion’s face, tracing the lines of his scars with her eyes, seeing the depth of his wisdom and his age and his power.
“You do not have to worry about Tuer and his Shadow and their schemes any longer. Come with me, little Empress. Be at peace.”
“What will happen to the world if I come with you? What will happen to the dead and the living? To Morin and Tainir? To Enduena?”
There was an immeasurable grief in his eyes, the weight of it dragging on him. “The world will end, dear one. Endahr will be no more, and time itself will be unwritten.”
“And you think I am selfish enough to trade my own comfort for the end of the world?” she demanded.
He smiled. “Are you?”
“I murdered the man I always hoped might be my father just so I could take his Empire. I destroyed the rightful Empress’s life because I hated her. And I bargained Niren away when I was still achild.Of course I’m selfish enough.”
“Are you?” he repeated.
The ship was beginning to waver around her, the pull of death very strong. “What will happen if I do not go with you?” she whispered.
“Then I will send you back to the mountain. Back to Tuer, and another impossible choice. It may be that you can free him, and heal the breach between the Circles, saving the dead and the living, too. And it may be that you cannot, and Endahr will come to ruin anyway.”
“And even if I do all that, it will still mean—”
“It will still mean that you will be bound in Tuer’s place, bound to all the world’s sorrows.”
“Forever.”
“That is your choice, little one. What will you choose?”
She looked at his book, which lay shut on the table. “What have you written for me?”
“Would it alter your choice, if you knew what it would be?”
Outside the ship the world seemed to shake. Stars fell from the sky and into the sea.
“Send me back,” said Eda, tremulous, small. She bowed her head. “Send me back.”
He brushed one finger across her brow, and the Starlight inside her pulsed warm at his touch. “Do not fear the sorrow, little Empress. It may yet save you. Farewell, until we meet again. Farewell.”
Darkness closed round her, and something was ripped red-hot from her chest. She screamed in agony.
But then metal clattered noisily on stone, and the pain was suddenly gone.
She opened her eyes to see Tuer staring down at her, the godkiller lying on the ground between them, its blade rent in two.
Chapter Forty-Three
BUT THEY WERE NOT ALONE.
A silent figure paced toward them from the outskirts of the hall. It was Raiva, her gown dirty and torn, her face streaked with tears. Eda wondered how long she had been watching them.
“It should not fall to a mortal to mend a god’s mistakes,” said the goddess, and Eda recognized something inside of Raiva she hadn’t seen before—anger.
