Home > Books > Lakesedge (World at the Lake's Edge #1)(86)

Lakesedge (World at the Lake's Edge #1)(86)

Author:Lyndall Clipstone

And now, I’ll let them go.

“My memories of my family. I’ll give them to you for the power to save Rowan now, and to mend the Corruption at the next ritual.”

It has to be this. The Corruption began when Rowan lost his family. His family, my family, my power.

It has to be this. It could only ever be this.

The Lord Under lowers himself down, until he kneels before me. “This was more than we agreed upon. I offered my help—and your power—for the next ritual only.”

“Rowan is going to hurt us, all of us.” I pause, forcing myself not to beg, to plead. “It can’t wait until the full moon.”

“Then you’ll need to give me something more.”

My mind races as I stare up at him. What do I have that is more than the memories of my family that I’ve treasured all this time? I think of my parents, burned and gone—but not lost. The mourning litany speaks of how families will be reunited after death, and that’s what I’ve always believed.

“What happens after death?” I ask the Lord Under. “My family—when I die, will I remember them and be with them in the world Below?”

His mouth curves into the barest hint of a smile. “You will.”

“Then take that, too.” I try to hold back my tears, but they spill free. “I’ll give up my family to you forever. I’ll forget them in my world and in yours. Even when I die, I won’t remember them.”

The Lord Under draws in a deep, slow breath as he considers my offer. He watches me with a gaze that is vast and endless and entirely inhuman. Did I expect him to look softer? To be sorry? There is none of that. Only a deep, endless hunger.

Finally, he nods. “I will give you a spell to cast on Rowan that will work only once. Your full power will come on the next moon, and it will last until sunrise touches the shore on the following day. In exchange, you’ll forget your father and your mother. You’ll be without them, always. Alone even in death.”

“Yes. That’s my trade.”

He lifts a hand. “This will hurt. In more ways than one.”

Each piece of me cries out to undo this, to run, but there is nowhere for me to go. I am right where I need to be.

His claws scrape through the air above my face. My eyes are still open, but everything turns dark. Water rushes down the walls, and the room fills with mud, with black water, with shadows that I feel, sharp, inside my lungs. His darkness tastes the same as Arien’s magic. Salt and ash and smoke. It hurts.

As the Lord Under’s shadows tear through me, he starts to whisper. “They will be gone, forever. And when the time comes, and Arien dies, he’ll be lost to you, too. Your soul will sleep alone in the world Below.”

A sob comes out of my mouth at his words, but I bite down on the sound, hold it back. I have to do this. I choose to do this.

His magic is cold, a steel-sharp swath that scrapes through my body. My heart. My bones. The inside of my skull. A swift, clean slice that severs everything. Alone forever, even in death. I see a single, final image: my father, the way he smiled as his magic filled the earth in our garden.

Then it’s gone.

It’s all gone.

Tears stain the corners of my eyes when I blink them open. In place of my memories there is only a blank space, a strange, hollow feeling. Like my hands were closed tenderly around some precious thing, and now I’ve found them empty. When I try to remember my family—the shape of their faces, their names—there’s an absence, and it aches.

My heart is pounding, and my breath comes in short, sharp gasps. “It still hurts. I’ve forgotten them. Why does it still hurt?”

The Lord Under touches his claws to his mouth. Swallows down my pain and my fear and my memories the way he once ate fruit and blood. “You’ve forgotten them, but the hurt won’t go—it won’t heal over.”

Another tremor shakes the room, and I go tense and still, straining to hear the sounds outside.

I need to go back, but first I need to be sure of my power. “We have our trade. Say it.”

“We have our trade. Hold out your hand.”

I quickly reach my hand toward him. He leans forward, until there’s almost no distance between us. The cold of his breath burns across my cheeks.

He traces his claws over my heartline.

Though I can’t feel his touch, the power hits me all at once. Sudden and all encompassing, like a wave that’s washed over me. It’s cold. It’s hot. My skin burns and turns to ice. The world evaporates into a heady rush of light and heat. I am magic. I am power. It’s all I tasted before in those fleeting glimpses.

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