Rone’s mouth was dry, and it wasn’t from the heat spilling off the horse demon. He tried to speak, but words, voice, even thought failed him.
Human?
I did not remember for a long time, Ireth said, his hooves tapping faintly on the crystalline ground beneath them as he walked toward the muted light that danced through the glassy plane, a strange imitation of the sun. I lost myself, as the others have. But I stayed near. I watched your ancestors. I learned their tongue and their ways, and I slowly came back to myself. I remembered.
Rone accumulated enough saliva in his mouth to swallow. “Wh-Who are you?”
The horse lifted his head, black eyes shimmering. I am Ireth. I am a captain and defender to my chief. My time was over long before yours began, Rone Comf.
Rone’s knees buckled, and his backside collided hard with the ground beneath him. “You’re Noscon, aren’t you?”
Ireth gave a subtle nod. We all were. Until Kaj.
Rone shook his head, his heart thudding. “Kaj?”
Yes. Ireth studied the stars beneath him. He is the one you call Kolosos.
“No,” Triumvir Peterus said, looking up from the meat-heavy meal before him. He, Jachim, and a handful of soldiers ate at Triumvir Var’s table. Where Triumvir Var and Oz had gone, Sandis wasn’t sure. The Celesian leaders had been back and forth among local churches, trying to calm the faithful. “I have only received the one message I gave you earlier. They’ve found nothing in the northlands but the end of Kolosos’s tracks.”
Pressing her lips together until they hurt, Sandis nodded and retreated back up the stairs to her room. She hadn’t told anyone other than Rist and Bastien that Anon was her brother, but she had insinuated earlier that, as a vessel, she might be of use in finding Kolosos’s host. It wasn’t entirely a lie—vessels could sense active numina, though it was an unnecessary ability when their quarry loomed as large as a tower. No one had disputed her, thankfully. She couldn’t stand the idea of information regarding Anon being kept from her.
It was dusk, and Chief Esgar’s team had been searching all day. They had followed a charred trail some ways outside the wall, but it had dwindled into nothing. No Anon, and no amarinth. Which meant Kolosos hadn’t simply petered out.
Anon, where are you? She paused outside her room and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, focusing on the ache of the pressure instead of the heat that threatened tears.
This house brimmed with people, yet Sandis felt achingly alone.
She’d had Rone for so short a time. His absence shouldn’t hurt this much.
Why did the world take away everything she loved?
Rone is strong, she reminded herself for what had to be the hundredth time. Rone can take care of himself. Ireth is with him. You can’t give up yet. It’s not over.
Spots appeared in her vision, but she didn’t remove her hands. She couldn’t, not until she got a hold of herself. Not until she could look Bastien and Rist in the eyes and tell them, truthfully, that she believed they’d get out of this alive.
If she could look Bastien in the eyes at all.
Taking a deep breath, then another, Sandis pulled her hands from her face and blinked until her sight cleared. Then she opened the door.
Bastien sat up in bed, picking at a plate of food on his lap. From this angle, he looked perfectly normal, but the moment Sandis walked around the bed, she’d see the bandages and the angry red skin poking up from them. There was no sign of Rist.
She swallowed hard.
Bastien glanced over and offered a weak smile. His hair was unbound and flowed freely over his shoulders; he’d only lost the bit above his left ear in the blast.
Clearing her throat, Sandis approached. “How are you feeling?”
“Same as the last time you asked me.” He shrugged, then winced.
She knelt on the floor and rested her elbows on the mattress. “I’m so sorry, Bastien—”
“Sandis, stop apologizing.”
“But if it weren’t for—”
“Sandis.” He put his unscathed hand on her arm. “Every t-time you apologize, I have to repeat myself. ‘It’s not your fault. I knew what could happen.’ And I’m getting really tired of repeating myself.”
Sandis tried to mimic his weak smile, but struggled to.
“Triumvir Var has a lot of fancy medicine. It honestly doesn’t hurt that m-much.” He speared a carrot on his plate. “If nothing else, it makes me more char-ming.”
Sandis gaped at him. He raised an eyebrow.
She let out a long, choked breath that was almost a laugh. “How long did it take you to think of that one?”
“I’ve got a few saved up. But don’t tell anyone—I want to use that one again.”
Pushing herself upright, Sandis glanced around the room. “Where’s Rist?” Fear spiked the question. Had he run off a second time?
“In the kitchen, I think.” Bastien shoved the carrot into his mouth. He pushed it against his cheek and added, “I hope he doesn’t burn anything.”
Sandis’s breath caught, and her throat grew tight. “I-I didn’t mean to—”
“Sandis, no.” Bastien set the plate aside and sat up straighter, wincing once more. “Just a joke.”
When she felt steady, she crossed the room and kissed Bastien on the top of his head. “You’re a good friend, Bastien.” She stepped back and rubbed the discomfort building in her stomach, the guilt that had settled there like bad meat. “Do . . . you want me to braid your hair?”
He straightened. “Do you know how? It . . . hurts to do it myself.” He tipped his head toward his bandaged arm.
Sandis nodded and scooted behind him, gathering the long locks in her hands. “My hair was long, before Kazen. I always wore it braided or pinned up, so it wouldn’t get caught in any of the equipment.”
“At the gun factory, right?”
“Mm.” After helping him turn toward the window, she split his hair into two sections and began taking pieces from each and crossing them over, making the fish-bone braid she had favored when she was younger. She’d gotten a few inches plaited before Bastien spoke again.
“I-I’m sorry, Sandis.”
Her hands stilled. “What for?”
“For Rone. If I hadn’t woken him, he’d still be here.”
Sandis shook her head, resuming her work. “And I wouldn’t be.” She plaited another inch before adding, “I don’t know if the amarinth would have solved anything or not. I don’t know what will happen tonight. But we can’t move forward if we’re tied down by regret.”
Bastien turned just enough to see her. “You should take your own advice.”
He picked at his meal as Sandis continued to braid. She had almost reached the end of his hair when Rist opened the door. He looked around, his forehead tight, before kicking the door shut and sitting on the floor in front of it.
“What’s wrong?” Bastien asked, handing Sandis a tie for his hair.
“What’s wrong?” Rist scowled. “Your rescue maneuver was less than subtle. Everyone knows I’m a vessel, and I’ve been threatened with Gerech if I try to harm my brand. I’m a slave again, just to different people.”
Sandis was slow tying off Bastien’s braid. “I’m sorry, Rist. Maybe it really is over, and—”
“I don’t want to hear more of your nonsense, Sandis.”
“Hey,” Bastien snapped.
Rist smacked his head against the door. “If you’d left me alone, I would have run rampant and tired out, then woken a free man.”
His words cut deep. Sandis’s throat constricted. “You would have hurt people. You might have been shot,” she managed.
“Maybe that would have been better.”
“Shut up.”
Sandis started at the hardness is Bastien’s voice.
Rist’s expression darkened.
“Just shut up, Rist. We risked our lives for you.” He pushed his plate aside, gripped the edge of the bed, and tried to stand.
“Bastien, no.” Sandis moved to grab his shoulders, then saw the bandages on his left side and reconsidered.
“We didn’t choose any of this.” Bastien’s breath quickened.
Rist stood and strode to the bed. “And the only reason I’m choosing you is because it’s better than being on the street. The second the food is gone, so am I—”
Bastien leapt and sent his fist into Rist’s jaw.
Rist stumbled back. Bastien cried, “Ow!” and cradled his hand, then hissed as the action pulled on the burns on his arm.
“Bastien!” Sandis cried, easing him back onto the mattress. “You’re going to tear something!” She took his left hand and checked its bandages, waiting for something to ooze through them.
“I-I’m fine.” Bastien winced, opening his right hand and prodding his thumb. “Something p-popped.”
Rist rubbed his jaw. “God, you punch like Kaili.”
The unexpected comment tempered Sandis’s worry. “Kaili hit you?”
Rist dropped his hand. “More than once. Curl your thumb on the outside of your fingers next time, idiot.”
Bastien smirked. “Good thing I didn’t try that this m-morning.”
Confused, Sandis asked, “Why?”
“Because then this would be . . . break-fist.”
Sandis gaped.
Rist groaned.
A laugh so raw it hurt clawed up Sandis’s throat. She gritted her teeth against it, knowing that if she let herself laugh, she’d start bawling and never stop. And so, hand pressed to her stomach, she left to fetch the doctor.
He remembers, too, Ireth said, holding Rone’s gaze. I do not think he ever forgot.
“Kolosos,” Rone said carefully. “Kaj.”
Ireth gave a mew of confirmation. He has waited for someone like Kazen. Just as I have waited for someone like Sandis. Someone who can free us.
“This is it.” Rone shifted onto his knees. “This is what you wanted to tell her. The amarinth. The Noscon records. The dreams. You wanted her to know who you were so she could free you.”
Another nod. I have never been able to communicate with other humans. Not even when they give me their bodies as vessels. Not until her.
Rone considered this a long moment. “Could . . . I tell her? I can go a day without water. If I could reach her, couldn’t I tell her?”
Even if you could use words, as I cannot, it is too late now.
“Why?”
The ground rumbled beneath them.
Because Kolosos has been unleashed, Ireth said matter-of-factly. He will either destroy or be destroyed, and that will end everything. Ireth’s ears flicked as he lifted his head. Even now, he prepares to descend. We should move.
“But Kazen is dead.” Rone found his feet again. “We watched him die.”
Ireth shook his head, sending sparks from his mane into the air. Kaj was a master sorcerer. It was he who made the first amarinth. He who bound us here in his leap for immortality, not realizing it would destroy our bodies and lock us in this eternal prison. Ireth began to walk, and Rone followed him. He has tied himself to the amarinth you once called your own, and the boy who wields it. He will return to the mortal realm and try to take back what he lost.
Shivers coursed down Rone’s arms. “Take back the physical world. Take back his ability to live, as we do.”
Yes, Ireth agreed. And in doing so, he will destroy us all.