They’d come. They’d all come to stand or fall beside us.
And among them, spirits soared. Not just any spirits. Lyria and…Annellius Alabath.
My ancestor, the original Angelcursed who had condemned us to face this battle, came back to help. He flew with his cohorts, dropping to help wrench victims from Thorn’s grasp in a way living warriors couldn’t.
The fact that he hadn’t abandoned us for good stirred emotion in my chest that I didn’t have time to indulge now. Not as I stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the capitol building with the caved-in roof. Fire roared through the broken windows, sparking over the ruined edges of the ceiling and licking up Xenovia’s banners, deep purple velvet falling apart in singed clumps.
And alone, Echnid waited in the center of the steps.
I stuffed down the wrenching gratitude and agony of what I was about to do and turned my back on the battle to challenge the mortal man glaring down at me. If I was meant to die tonight, I would face that death with a fearless smile.
Echnid showed no care for the fire burning in his wake. He wasn’t ready to run, but he appeared ready to talk. With that malicious, manipulative grin on his face, he was still trying to win me to his side.
But I knew…I knew how this had to end.
Finally, thanks to my willingness, I was a step ahead.
Exhausted, heart leaden, and breaths heaving, I pulled the Vincienzo dagger from the sheathe at my thigh, my hand sagging with the monumental weight. Echnid tracked the motion. When his no-longer-milky stare narrowed, all sound around us dulled.
He hadn’t known I had it—he’d thought he destroyed any weapon capable of severing his life when he burned the trove. He hadn’t known any blade on Ambrisk was able to drain his immortal life.
Once again, my opponent had underestimated me.
For a beat, concern flashed across his face. Worry that I had more secrets up my sleeve. That I was willing to give moreto guarantee his downfall. And over the agony, over the tears fighting to break free, I smiled wickedly.
“Ophelia!” Tolek’s voice cut through the night.
Shoving the pain clawing through my chest deep down inside me, I wiped my eyes and turned to face him. He raced up to me, hands cupping my cheeks. Gold was splattered across his skin and leathers.
“Apeagna,” he said with utter relief.
“You’re back.” My voice cracked.
“I wouldn’t leave you,” he said, brushing a thumb across my cheekbone.
But I am.
No. I told the voice in my head to quiet. I was not leaving Tolek by choice. I couldn’t. He was a part of me. Bind or not, he was woven deep within my bones, and even though I had to go now, it would be with his soul wrapped around mine. Our bodies parted, but our beings forever entwined as our spirits traveled across realms.
I would wait for him there. Wherever I went next, I would wait for Tolek to find me.
And those thoughts must have shown on my face because Tolek asked, “What’s wrong?”
I have to leave you.
“I have to end him,” I said through gritted teeth.
He nodded as if he understood, but he didn’t. And I couldn’t explain it if I wanted to hold on to what strength I had left.
“Valyrie told me there’s something you need my help with.” Tol brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, and it was such a tender movement, a touch I ingrained in my memory forever. I could take that with me when I went, at least.
I peered around his shoulder. They were all almost here now. Assembled between the steps I stood on and the battle through the city center.
As Tol’s hands warmed my fear-chilled skin, I thought of the legend of the Firebird and his fox that Esmond had told me earlier tonight. Was it truly such delusion to hope that with love in our hearts, we could outrun the flames of any fire?
Tol and I had been born of loss and hardship. We’d fought to get to this very battlefield, fought for each other and beside each other. He’d held my broken shards in the palm of his hand through so many trials, had pieced them back together so I could forge myself into the weapon that stood before him today.
Through all of that—after all that strife and in the face of a brighter tomorrow—were we meant to burn to nothing more than ash?
