The Undercity. She went to the Undercity.
The realization crushes my windpipe. Makes my hands shake—though I try to still them. Try to force myself to remain calm and composed.
For her.
I’m not going to lie here and chastise her for something I specifically asked her not to do—knowing how dangerous it is down there. I’m not going to break her down further when she’s already falling apart.
I’m going to hug her.
Love her.
Avenge her.
“He was h-hooded.”
“Okay,” I whisper, brushing her hair back off her face. “That helps, Essi. Did you see the color of his hood? Was it red?”
“N-no.”
Probably not from here.
“What did he smell like?”
“Leather,” she rasps. “S-smoke sticks. When he walked away, his b-boots made clattering sounds.”
Clattering sou—
“Tell me s-something that’ll make me f-feel warm, Raeve. P-please.”
“I love you.” The admission spills without pause. A heavy truth tilled from the raw, exposed ache in my chest. I realize the words were there all this time, tucked beneath my calloused bits, hiding in a place I thought they were safe.
Nothing’s ever safe.
“Why didn’t you go to a Fleshthread, Essi? Why didn’t you—”
“Because I knew you’d always w-wonder if I didn’t make it out. That you’d think I left you, like they left me.”
They …
Her family.
My heart rips straight down the middle.
“You’re here,” I whisper against her ear. “I’ve got you. We’ve got each other.”
I bind her deeper into my embrace, holding her tight while she drains away. Blood leaches across the seater beneath us, a wetness I can’t escape seeping through my clothing, sticking to my skin.
A wetness that should be pumping through her veins, fueling her life. But it’s not.
It’s not.
I nuzzle her hair, filling my lungs with her warm scent, past and present melding together as I recall another embrace. Another love.
Another loss.
I hum my calming song while she trembles against me, her heart pumping beneath my hand, each beat slower than the last.
Quieter.
Weaker.
“You’re the family I never had,” I whisper, and her lungs empty with a shuddered exhale …
She doesn’t fill them again.
I’m not sure how long I hold her, bound around her body that’s no longer moving.
No longer warm.
Long enough that a parchment lark flutters into the room, then bumps against the sill, over and over. Perhaps Sereme’s—informing me that last slumber’s mission is complete, the children free of the city.
Long enough that I discern the hard segments of my heart aren’t going to shift back together and protect the soft core that feels too much. That I’ll have to nurse the hurt until it’s calloused over, a realization that makes me not want to rise again.
Long enough that I take my time inspecting each moment since I woke, stripping the emotion back like shelling nuts, leaving the smooth pit inside—safe to handle. I bundle all the clutter into piles on the shore of my immense frozen lake that’s more silent than it’s ever been, then ferry them across the surface.
Silver light spears up from beneath while I carve an icy grave to drop the parcels down. A curious luminosity that hunts every step, chasing me back and forth between the shore and the hole—something that would usually frighten me. But I’m numb.
Hollow.
I’ve lost Essi, and I’ve lost the will to care about anything but the thing that keeps me upright. Keeps me moving forward.
Vengeance.
Dropping the final package beneath the frosty expanse, I rise back into myself, raising my hand to brush Essi’s hair back from her too-pale face. “You sleep.” Eyes squeezed shut, I kiss her temple, letting the moment linger. “I’m going to find whoever did this to you,” I pledge against her cold skin. “I’m going to find them, Essi.”
And I’m going to make them hurt.
I tug my arm from beneath her stiff body, my bottom lip trembling as I untangle our legs and step off the seater. I swathe the blanket around her shoulders to keep her nice and warm, then make for the stairs on unsteady legs, bracing myself against the wall so I can heft the trapdoor up.
Nee swarms free in a wobbly waggle, bumping against my cheek, neck, and chest while I go about the motions of moving down the stairs, eyes cast blankly ahead. Not bothering to remove my bloodstained skinsuit, I strap a sheath to my other thigh, tucking the many pockets full of small dragonscale daggers while Nee continues to bump against me in a frenzied flutter. She nosedives toward the ground, but I pinch her from the air, gently setting her on a shelf.