I laugh, even though it’s agony. “I choose death.”
Threydan stares me down, as though waiting for me to finish the joke. It takes him far too long to realize I’m serious.
“You’d rather die than be with me,” he deadpans. “Even though I can offer you power and forever?”
“I don’t want any of it. Not power. Not forever. And especially not you.”
We’re back to speaking in Islander now, and I don’t care who can hear. What’s he going to do? Kill me? I’m already dying.
And he thinks I’d damn myself for eternity to save myself.
Fool.
Threydan’s gaze lowers to my rapier. He strides forward to protests from my crew and unsheathes the weapon. Alosa’s gift sparkles in the sunlight, and Threydan admires the sword for a few seconds. What’s he going to do now? Speed up my end?
My heart rate picks up, because I have a feeling that’s not what he’s about to do at all.
He turns away from me, strides off in Kearan’s direction with the sword extended.
“Wait,” I say, my voice growing weak. “Stop.” I try to stand, but all I manage to do is topple fully onto the deck. As a sharp pain lances through me, I manage to raise my head just in time to meet Kearan’s eyes. They are unafraid, and he doesn’t take them off me.
I scramble to rise, to stand, to do anything except watch what is about to happen.
The King of the Undersea stabs him through the gut. In and out so quickly I can barely follow the motion. It is only the hordes of undead that keep Kearan standing.
“No!”
It hurts so bad, but I scoot along the deck, trying to get as close to Kearan as possible. He has a wound that matches mine, though his isn’t stanched. He’ll bleed out much quicker than I am.
“Now you have a choice to make, Sorinda,” Threydan says. “You can watch him die and know that I will have his body join my ranks of undead forever. Or you can accept my offer, gain the power of the panaceum, and heal him with it.”
The breath stutters out of me as two horrible choices are laid before me. I want neither; neither can happen. Why can’t I just die so the choice is made for me?
I cease my struggling and fall still.
Death for me will not stop whatever happens here. Am I foolish enough to think Threydan will cease terrorizing my crew once I’m gone? No, he’ll likely slaughter everyone I ever knew for what I took from him.
He says, “Make the choice now, Sorinda, or I will speed this along. Where is the little pirate? She’s who I’ll maim for you next.”
Roslyn.
“All right,” I croak. “I’ll do it.”
“No!” comes too many shouts for me to count. One from a wounded Kearan, one from little Roslyn up top. One from Dimella and countless others. They are a good crew.
If I’m to remain a good captain, I need to do this one last thing for them. Then this nightmare of a journey will finally be over for them. I’ll worry about my forever after that.
“Good girl,” Threydan says demeaningly. He returns to me, scoops me up in his arms—and I close my eyes, pretending it’s only Kearan holding me again.
Threydan turns his back to the majority of the crew, as though to give us a semblance of privacy. Then, without hesitation, he lowers his lips to mine again.
I can’t pretend it’s Kearan any longer. Not now that I know how his lips feel and taste. But Threydan doesn’t seem to mind that I’m not reciprocating the kiss. This is a ritual. I’d imagine this is the only way he can share eternity with me now that the panaceum is a part of him.
What is a kiss but a meeting of two souls?
That place inside me where all my heat is contained around my heart—it throbs, swirling like an angry mass within me. I feel a tug, something trying to coax it upward.
And I resist. Violently. Because that is my essence. My mortality. That is me all condensed into one place. I grab ahold of my heart with clawed fingertips, keeping it right where it is.
Threydan says against my lips, “Give in to me, Sorinda. He doesn’t have long. You must give it to me now.”
One by one, I loose those fingers. I force myself to hold absolutely still. Do nothing as my mortality is pulled from my chest. Up higher and higher. Until it reaches Threydan.
Or perhaps it is the other way around. Perhaps immortality is invading me, snuffing out my light. Building me anew.
It takes but a moment, and then—
Everything changes.
Chapter 24
EVERYTHING FEELS DIFFERENT.
If I thought I was empty before, when it was only temperature I could no longer feel, it is nothing compared to what I am now.
A husk.
No pain.
But also no spark of life.
There is a breeze on my face, but I feel removed from it somehow, as though it hardly registers to me. I cannot smell the briny water of the sea or feel the tight braids in my hair. Though I can see the bodies around me, I feel no particular connection to them. I know that I care for them. But the actual sensation within my heart? It’s missing.
I’m missing.
I’m a mind full of thoughts but no feelings.
Once mortality is ripped from a soul, what meaning does anything have? One cannot enjoy happiness if there is no sorrow. There is no joy without pain. No love without hate. No feeling of being rested when one cannot feel restless. How can the days matter when they are innumerable? How can one enjoy life when it is endless?
This is what Threydan gave up everything for? A half-life?
For power.
And yes, I can certainly feel that. I have a connection to all the undead surrounding me. All I need to do is think a phrase, and they will carry it out. I can see through their eyes if I concentrate. It is an instinct as familiar to me as breathing once was.
I look down, note that my chest no longer rises and falls. It doesn’t need to. Breath no longer sustains me. The panaceum is what gives me life now. I can sense it from Threydan’s chest—
I couldn’t risk them taking it. Not when I was so close to saving Kayra.
If I hid it, then I wouldn’t be able to use its power and survive off this island. Perhaps I should swallow it? Or would my body only work it through my system given time?
I was running out of time and ideas.
And then a new thought struck me. Something that would hide the panaceum from the world and make it accessible only to me.
I sharpened the knife for hours, then spent another mustering up the courage. When I finally put the blade to my chest, I screamed and screamed as I cut into my own flesh, reached inside, and removed my heart.
With the panaceum firmly grasped in my other hand, I couldn’t die, but I could still feel the pain. Every second of it. I sliced into my heart, thrust the artifact within, then placed my heart back into my chest.
The moment my hands let go, something remarkable happened.
The pain vanished. The power overwhelmed. The possibilities were endless.
Let them come for me now.
With steady fingers, I remove the belt around my waist. I don’t need it any longer. My skin has knit itself back together, but I barely have a thought to spare for my own well-being, for there is a sense of urgency within my mind. One I cannot feel throughout my limbs, but I still heed it. I walk with purpose toward the dying man on the ship. The one who was hurt because of me. The undead move away from his side at my silent order. Kearan slumps to the ground, and I don’t have the strength to catch him. But I join him on the floor.