“No,” I said finally.
The serpent hissed, triumphant. “Becausssse the amulet wassss not the ssssource.”
“I didn’t know that then.”
“Then why keep it sssseparated?” it asked, wrapping its body tighter, rising as though it were ready to strike. “What have you protected, Vareck, king of winter and death?Nothingchanged. The cursssse sssstill sssstrangles the land. Fatessss are losssst. Your mate”—its voice curled into something cruel and sweet—“issss sssstill gone.”
My shoulders sagged under the weight of it. I shut my eyes.
And for a moment, I let myselfwant.
Want her back. Want the ache to end. Want to undo the one mistake I couldn’t fix with blade or magic or will.
Even if it came with a price I shouldn’t pay.
“Resssstore it,” it said. “And perhapssss the old wayssss will return. Perhapssssshereturnssss. Whole. Yourssss. Again.”
A dangerous hope cracked open in my chest, and I hated how good it felt.
“She would be mine again?” I asked, my voice a whisper. “If I restored the necklace?”
“Wouldn’t it be worth the rissssk?” A fire flashed through the serpent’s eyes, hues of orange and reds dancing in the black depths.
A tremor ran down my spine. The amulet had been more than symbolic. It was pure power given form. An artifact forged by the threads of life and fate. That was why my father had usedit. It’s what made its mass destruction possible. Kaia, Drayden, and I were all there that day. Forever bonded by our grief, we used the amulet and tried to right the wrongs. When I failed, we glamoured the severed pieces, then scattered them; hid them across the realms, all to prevent people from finding it and attempting to use it again one day.
My mistake had cost everyone.
My fear of the amulet itself led to its dismantling. I could reverse it all.
If the amulet was also the key to restoring the bonds ... if I could feelheragain ...
I didn’t notice Sadie moving until I heard the scrape of steel. Her hands were free. She had broken the gag. One of her twin axes was already in her palm.
“Vareck, step back!” she shouted.
“No!” I snapped. “Wait?—”
She lunged forward in a fluid blur, axe raised high. The serpent didn’t move, and Sadie didn’t swing. She froze, and then her eyes went wide. Her mouth fell open, as if stuck in silent horror.
“I can’t see,” she whispered. Her weapon clattered to the ground, and she touched her face, searching for an obstruction that wasn’t there. “I can’t see!”
She stumbled back, hands outstretched, blinking furiously at a world she could no longer sense.
“What did you do?” I roared at the snake.
It slowly turned toward her, unconcerned. “Nothing. Twassss the ley linessss.”
I darted toward Sadie, catching her as she swayed.
“Shh,” I murmured, pressing a hand to her cheek. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“I’m blind, Vareck,” she whispered harshly, breath shallow. “I can’t seeshit.”
Several moments passed where Sadie hyperventilated. Then her eyelashes fluttered. She blinked rapidly. “I can see again.”
“What was that?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she breathed, then narrowed her brown eyes on the serpent. “But you know, don’t you?”
