I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what to say. “Goodbye” didn’t seem adequate.
What did someone say when they knew it was the last time? I bet some people had speeches planned or eloquent words to be remembered by that would simply come to them, but I wondered how many could actually deliver those speeches or parting words when the time came. Because there were no words.
If Ector were here, he’d likely say something ridiculous. He’d make us all either laugh or curse.
I hoped he was at peace and happy.
I hoped I saw him again.
That fucking knot traveled to the top of my throat, causing my eyes to burn. I pressed my lips together.
Saion lifted his chin, a wan smile on his handsome face. “Safe travels.”
I nodded. It was all I could manage. I didn’t want their last memory of me to be one where I was a sobbing mess.
Rhain stepped forward, walking between the cousins. Brown eyes alight with eather locked on mine. Then, withdrawing a shadowstone sword, he crossed it over his chest and lowered to one knee, bowing his head.
I inhaled sharply.
Bele followed suit, sword in hand as she knelt. Then Lailah. What were they doing? Saion and Rhahar did the same, and I felt Ash’s fingers thread through mine. Behind them, Nektas lowered his horned head to the stone and patchy grass of the cliff. Ehthawn did the same, puffing out a smoky breath.
In unison, the gods held their swords level with their chests, their other hands folding tightly over the edges of the blades. Blood dripped in front of them, splashing off the rocky soil. Then it struck me, weakening my legs. My lips parted.
They were paying me honor and respect—the same I’d seen given to knights in Lasania upon their passing.
“With my sword and my life,” Rhain spoke, lifting his head. The others echoed his words. “I shall honor you.” Silvery, crackling eather erupted from his fingers, spreading across the sword. The blade collapsed first, and then the hilt turned to ash. “In blood and in ash, forevermore.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
A surprisingly cool mist dampened the air as we stood beneath a canopy of heavy branches.
The Dark Elms had quieted upon our arrival, the wildlife reacting to the presence of a Primal of Death and fleeing the woods. A few birds remained hidden in the tallest branches near my lake, calling softly to one another in the darkness.
Only fractures of moonlight penetrated the thick shadows of night. The dense thicket of elms obscured what lay beyond, but I knew I could easily find my way through the maze to Wayfair Castle. I was so close to Ezra.
To my mother.
I wanted to see my stepsister. Maybe even my mother. But what would I say to them? Even if I didn’t share my true reasons for visiting, Ezra would know that something was up. She was clever, and I didn’t want her last memories of me to be steeped in sorrow.
And my mother?
Any conversation with her likely wouldn’t go well. It would surely end in one of us saying something terrible, which meant that Ash would probably make good on his threat to send her to the Abyss before my life even came to its end.
But I didn’t have unlimited time. The last thing I wanted was to spend it upsetting Ezra or arguing with my mother.
I wanted to be with my husband.
A shaky breath left me as I lifted my gaze to him. Ash stood with his back to me, the line of his spine rigid as he stared at the still midnight waters.
He hadn’t wanted to come here, but he’d promised me. And he wouldn’t break that oath.
He’d been quiet since we left the Bonelands, shadowstepping us into the middle of the Dark Elms. He hadn’t said a word to the others when we left. My eyes stung with the tears I held back—that I’d been holding back.
In blood and in ash…
In life and death, forevermore.
What Rhain and the others had given me was beautiful. Powerful. It was better than recognition. It was an acknowledgment of who I was.
A warrior.
One worthy of respect and honor.
Gods, I couldn’t start crying now.
Quickly, I reached up and hastily wiped under my eyes. My fingers were only tinted red, so hopefully my face wasn’t smeared with blood tears.
Clearing my throat, I stepped toward the Primal. “Ash?”
There was a long moment of silence, and then he flatly stated, “Sera?”
His tone pulled at my heart. “I know we don’t have much time.”
“We have all the time.”
But we didn’t. He knew that. If someone hadn’t discovered Kolis yet, they would soon. And besides that? I was out of time.
“There’s something I want to talk about,” I said.
His head tilted back. “I’m listening.”
Knowing this was hard for him, I succeeded in tamping down my quick temper. “Really?” I bit out. Okay. I mostly kept my temper in check. “You’re listening, even though you won’t look at me?”
Ash turned so quickly that he was a blur. “Even if I’m not looking at you, you are still all I see,” he said, his features encased in harsh ice. “I see you, Sera. I always have.”
Love for him surged in my chest, causing my vision to blur. “Don’t do that.”
His head cocked. “Do what?”
“Say things like that—nice things. Sweet words,” I told him. “It’ll make me cry, and I don’t want to.”
Some of the coldness left his face. “I don’t want you to cry either.”
“Then don’t be nice.”
His brows lifted. “Should I turn around and give you my back again?”
“No!” I exclaimed. “I’ll get angry then, and I don’t want to do that either.”
He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as if holding back a smile. “Then what would you like me to do, liessa?”
Gods.
Every time he called me that, I melted. It still melted me, but it also made me want to cry. Briefly closing my eyes, I ordered myself to pull it together. “I know you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad.”
My lips pursed. “You’re not?”
“I’m…” Ash shook his head. “Okay. I’m mad. But not at you.”
“I know you’re not mad at me,” I said. “And I know you don’t want to be here. You don’t want to do what you have to do.”
His nostrils flared.
“But I also know that you understand it has to be done. If there’s any hope of stopping Kolis and saving the realms, stopping the Rot. This is it. And I don’t want to waste what time we have left arguing over what we already know,” I told him. “I want you to listen to what I must tell you.”
Ash twisted his neck to the side, then gave me a curt nod.
All right, that wasn’t a vocalization, but it was better than nothing.
“I want you to know I love you,” I started. His eyes slammed shut, and my hands began trembling. “And I will not stop loving you. I wish I’d told you more than I have—gods, I wish I’d recognized what I felt long before I did.”
“I know,” he said, the two words sounding as if torn from the depths of his soul.
I stepped forward. “And I want you to know that none of this is your fault.”
Ash’s chest rose with a deep inhale.