17: THE ARROGANCE OF HEROES

Kihrin’s story Inside Vol Karoth’s prison

Oh, it hurt to see Janel and Teraeth. It had hurt even more to find myself screaming at them while they couldn’t hear me, couldn’t see me, while that bastard Vol Karoth told them lies in the most hurtful possible way.

It almost, almost overcame the fierce bloom of pride I’d felt when Teraeth spotted Vol Karoth’s deception and called him on it.

If seeing them hurt, having them here with me also made me ridiculously, unreasonably happy. It felt like breathing clean air after a thousand years of acid bile clouds in the Blight. But I didn’t want to lose them, and dear gods, Vol Karoth had ended up being so much stronger than I could have ever dreamed possible. I was barely surviving, and I’d seen just how much damage Vol Karoth had been able to do in seconds …

That first vision, whatever had caused it, had bought me the time I needed. I couldn’t even find it in myself to be mad at Qown, except in the most general sort of sense that if he managed to hurt Galen, I would make it a point to find a way to kill him. Admittedly, a ludicrous notion when the easy metal was still on me killing everyone.

We reappeared on a street on the far side of the city, next to a tall building that might have been anything in better times.

“Come on,” I told them. “Let’s get you both out of sight. It always slows him down a little.”

I sat Teraeth down as soon as we were inside an inner room. There wasn’t any furniture. There was never any furniture in any room. No decorations, no functional décor, nothing with purpose or grace or need. Just vast buildings full of empty rooms, silence, and dust.

Teraeth was the worse off of the two, at least in the short term. He was still bleeding, and his dark face was gray from pain. Vol Karoth hadn’t been trying to kill Teraeth; he’d been trying to make it hurt. He’d very much succeeded.

“Janel—” I looked over at her. “Are you—”

She waved me away as if it were perfectly normal to have an arm dissolved. “I’ll be fine. Take care of him first.”

“Right. Let me help,” I said as I knelt next to Teraeth. But even as I did, I couldn’t stop myself from grimacing. This was all my fault, after all. All. My. Fault. “Damn. You shouldn’t have come.”

“Idiot,” Teraeth growled, although it looked like it cost him. “I wasn’t given a choice.”

I closed my eyes, tried to blink away the sting of tears. “I know. He used how upset you were—”

That was when the next vision hit.

“Fuck!” I muttered. I blinked away the images.

“So I guess that means at least one of your sisters is also a massive asshole,” Teraeth said.

“She’s a D’Mon. The odds were always in favor of that.” I placed my hand against his stomach wound, let the tenyé slip through my fingers toward him. The energy curled around the edges of his injury, binding, closing, healing. When we parted, he grabbed my other wrist, and we just stared at each other. His eyes were shining, ebullient—which was ridiculous because our situation was so dire it made me shudder to think of it. He still looked at me like I was every sunrise the world had ever seen. Then his emerald gaze focused, sharpened, and he looked past me, to Janel.

When I turned back to her, she’d either ripped off most of her armor or had dismissed it and was concentrating on the horrifying stump of her arm. As we watched, the flesh of her shoulder stretched out, warped, began to take on the cast and scale of a normal limb.

I straightened. I hadn’t known someone could do that. Or rather, I hadn’t known a human could do that.

And then remembered that humans couldn’t.

“Damn,” Teraeth murmured, expression unreadable. “When … Janel.” He sat up. “When did you finish becoming a demon?”

I sat down on my knees and scrubbed my fingers against my legs. I suppose she hadn’t had a chance yet to tell Teraeth what had happened. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to put off that particular conversation for as long as possible. Some might have considered it cowardly, but it was a cowardice I could hardly rebuke. You know, considering my own.

“Since Suless,” Janel said softly. “I had to. It was the only way to escape her after she’d taken possession of my body and tsali’d me. Unfortunately, Suless learned the trick of it herself. A problem for another time, I’m afraid.”

Teraeth shut his eyes and sighed. “That’s why you told Xivan that Suless was beyond her reach.”

The shape of her mouth could only laughably be compared to a smile. “It’s worse than you know. I’ll tell you later.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before—?” Teraeth bit off his words and inhaled deeply. “Right. Sorry. I was about to ask you an unhelpful question. See? I can be taught.”

Janel smiled at him fondly.

“Um.” I raised a hand and waved fingers at them. “Much as I hate to … Look, Vol Karoth said some horrible, hateful, untrue things back there, but he was right that you both need to leave. Please. It’s not that I’m unhappy you’re here—because I’m so happy—but I can’t stop him from killing you. He’s just so strong.” I shuddered and ran a hand over my face. I really had no idea what I was going to do. I just knew who I couldn’t bear to lose while doing it.

[I’m afraid Teraeth can’t leave, Kihrin, at least not on his own,] Thurvishar’s voice said in my mind.

Janel raised her head. “Thurvishar. What are you doing here? You said you couldn’t follow me.”

I blinked. “Wait. What? Where are you?” I turned in a circle around the room, but if he was standing there, he’d learned a better invisibility spell than I’d ever known.

[That’s not an easy question to answer. It might be most accurate to say I have traded a physical manifestation for cognitive clarity.]

“Most accurate, huh?” I made a moue. “What if you were trying for less accurate but more in a language we understand…?”

A few seconds punctuated the silence. Then: [The more I can see, the less I can do. And I’m trying to see a great deal in order to help you.]

“Can you return?” Janel was talking to the ceiling, which verged on comedic considering that it wasn’t obvious where Thurvishar’s voice was coming from.

[I believe so. I’m attempting to keep a strong link to my physical body—the other reason you can’t see me.]

“Right. Fair enough.” I rubbed my eyes and thought about next steps. Not … being caught … something … something. I still had no idea. “Keep a watch out for my shadow, would you? It would be nice to have a head start on running for our lives this time.”

Janel squinted at me. “I take it fighting him hasn’t been going so well.”

“I … may have underestimated the situation,” I admitted.

Teraeth rubbed a thumb into his temple. “Oh, I should kick your ass. You may have ‘underestimated the situation.’” His laughter was dark and thick and mocking. Not so long ago, I think I might have lost my temper about it or at least would have been embarrassed. Those days were gone.

I didn’t answer. What was there to say? I sat down next to him and put my head on his shoulder. He wore the same green silk with gold seashell that I first remembered from Ynisthana, and I wondered if he even realized. I wouldn’t have thought that outfit would be associated with pleasant memories, inasmuch as I would very much associate it with the Black Brotherhood and his mother. I was struck again by how real this all felt. His skin, the scent of him, the flat planes of his chest, which that damn shirt had always shown far too much of. I mourned for the totally inappropriate circumstances, because this was hardly the time or place to do any of the things I had wanted to do about that.

Janel slid between our legs, sitting on her knees, just the tiniest sliver of her thighs brushing against mine. She wore an outfit I’d only ever heard about: her family heirloom, the shanathá mail she’d inherited from her adoptive grandfather. So a gown of midnight blue links that shone with an iridescent luster, ending just above long, tight riding boots of soft leather. And since none of this was real, she’d just skipped the details that might otherwise have been necessary and practical—the arming jacket, the bodice.¹ Honestly, even if I logically knew the shanathá armor was very practical and sturdy, it still seemed like she was wearing jewelry more than armor. I kept seeing flashes of …

I was distracted, is what I’m saying.

I squinted and studied a wall. Some sort of brickwork?

“Since we’re here, we might as well help,” Janel said.

“I don’t see how you can,” I said.

“There has to be something. We just need to figure out our enemy’s weaknesses, study his patterns,” Janel said. I didn’t think she was nearly as confident as she sounded, but damned if she wasn’t going to keep a positive attitude about the whole thing.

“Why me?” Teraeth asked softly. “If he can grab souls from the Lighthouse, why hasn’t he taken everyone?”

At least I knew the answer to that. “He said…” I exhaled. “He said when people give up, that’s when they’re his.”

Janel and I both looked at Teraeth.

“It was just after we’d learned Talon had killed you,” Teraeth said. His whole body was tense with remembered pain.

“Excuse me,” said Janel, “but I believe the correct term is committed suicide by mimic.”

Teraeth scoffed and gave her a black smile.

Janel leaned forward and gave Teraeth a gentle kiss. Then she slapped the top of my head.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Suicide by mimic,” Janel repeated.

I laughed, although it was not at all funny. For the record, I thought it was funny. “You should still stay away from me. He’ll target me. If you avoid me, then at least there’s a chance—”

Teraeth growled. “Don’t you fucking dare suggest he’ll leave us alone.” I felt his arm tighten around my waist. He was literally not letting me go.

Janel sighed. “I’ll repeat what Thurvishar just said: Teraeth can’t leave. I’m reasonably certain I can, but Teraeth is trapped here in this hellscape with you. Don’t you think that if Thurvishar could just yank Teraeth back to his physical body, he’d have done it by now?”

I inhaled sharply. “But if we can’t get Teraeth back into his body…”

“I die,” Teraeth said. “Believe me, I’m aware of how this works.”

I felt a wave of regret wash over me, and I turned my face away. Right up until Teraeth pinched me. “Hey!”

“If I’m not allowed to wallow in guilt, neither are you.” Teraeth shifted so I had to put my arm around him to keep my position. The net result of it was that we were basically in each other’s arms with Janel placing a hand on each of our legs for balance. The fact that we were sitting on the ground in a room with no furniture, with a mad god looking to kill us …

I inhaled and attempted to concentrate, although these two weren’t making it easy.

“All right,” I said. “Teraeth can’t leave. And neither can I. But—Janel—you can. And you should. And then we’ll work on getting Teraeth out of here, and then—”

Janel was not impressed with my logic. She stared flatly at me. “You hypocrite.”

I flushed. “I’m not claiming—”

Janel wasn’t done talking, though. “Are you listening to yourself? Did you stop for even five seconds while you were planning all this to consider that we’re not eager to see the man we love die right in front of us either? Did you think of our feelings at all?”

I seemed to have had something caught in my throat. “I’m not saying—wait. Love? We love?”

Hey, the last I’d checked, Janel hadn’t been willing to admit to “love.” We hadn’t known each other for long enough, she’d said, as if we hadn’t known each other across lifetimes and millennia.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Teraeth muttered.

Janel flushed. “Yes, we. Because certainly I throw myself into the minds of dark gods of annihilation for just anyone, all the time.” Her eyes narrowed with frustration and annoyance. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Oh, but could we, anyway? Because I’m perfectly aware of just how badly I’ve fucked this up.”

“You were playing hero,” Teraeth growled. “Sacrificing yourself for the cause. It’s the one thing you and Relos Var have never disagreed on.”

I winced. “Oh, when you play dirty, you don’t mess around, do you?”

“You,” Teraeth said carefully, “started it.”

I exhaled.

Janel wasn’t finished, though. “I’m glad you’re aware that you’ve made mistakes, but I’m not sure you realize why. You probably think it’s because you underestimated Vol Karoth, but that’s not the issue for Teraeth and me. Your miscalculation with us was the same one Relos Var loves so much: arrogance.”

I blinked. A feeling of surprise and anger bubbled up inside me. “I’m sorry? Arrogance? You know, I think I take exception to that. Quite a lot of exception.” Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling quite so in the mood to cuddle.

“Go right ahead.” Janel crossed her arms over her chest and straightened. Given that Teraeth and I were all but lying down, it made her for once seem taller. “Let’s put aside for the moment how arrogant it is to think that the fate of the whole world must rest on your shoulders alone. Let’s instead talk about the arrogance of assuming that Teraeth and I wouldn’t understand.”

That trapped the air inside my lungs. Fuck.

“You just assumed that you had the right to make decisions about our happiness for us without consultation. And don’t bother denying that’s what you did, because one of the conditions of our happiness is you.”

“I was trying to protect you!”

“Oh yes, because clearly that worked out so well.” She waved fingers at me, and it took me a second to realize that was the arm Vol Karoth had disintegrated. “You weren’t protecting us, Monkey.² You were hiding.”

I shuddered. Oh, she was angry. I guessed they both were. I wasn’t in a good position to see Teraeth’s face, and I didn’t even want to try for fear of what I’d see in his eyes, but …

I’d assumed I’d either have solved the issue by the time I met up with them (and thus it wouldn’t be a problem) or I would be dead and it … wouldn’t be a problem. It hadn’t occurred to me that I might end up in a between state where I was dead but also available to be yelled at.

Fuck. Thurvishar had been right. I should have told them. And yes, maybe they’d have talked me out of it, but …

But they’d have been right to.

I pondered if Teraeth would let me hide my face in his shirt and never make eye contact with anyone ever again. I already knew the answer was no. I could feel how tense he was. He was letting Janel do the yelling, but he didn’t disagree with a thing she was saying. So I untangled myself to sit up, turned to face both of them, and picked up Teraeth’s and Janel’s hands.

“I understand why you’re both upset,” I said, “but this really seemed like it would work, and I … okay. Yes. You’re right. I knew you wouldn’t agree and that you’d try to stop me.”

“Really. You knew that.” Teraeth used his voice like a razor. “Without asking us, without giving us any chance to hear your reasons or make a case for any other approach. You knew we’d never tolerate the idea of you sacrificing yourself for the greater good. Even if it was the right thing to do. Even though both of us have done the same thing in past lives. Even though we would have made the exact same sacrifice in a heartbeat. You really thought we were that selfish?”

“I wouldn’t call it selfish after everything you’ve already lost,” I told him. “Haven’t you sacrificed enough? What kind of person would I be if I asked you to give this up too? Why the hell would I expect you to just calmly be okay with this?”

Teraeth’s scorn was acid. “Refresh my memory: Who exactly helped you blow up an entire fucking volcano again? I’m exactly the brand of idiot who would be okay with this.”

“Also, it would have been his choice,” Janel said quietly. “And it would have been my choice. Whether we agreed or not—at least we would have known.”

“Admit it, Kihrin,” Teraeth said, “you were hoping it would be over one way or the other before we ever found out.”

I exhaled loudly and didn’t answer.

No one said anything for a while. I kept trying to think about next steps, and my mind kept skittering away from anything that resembled a reasonable solution. Mostly because there was no such thing as a reasonable solution. Presumably, Teraeth would only be able to leave once Thurvishar figured out a way to help him escape Vol Karoth’s control or we’d dealt with Vol Karoth himself. And I still had to deal with a nasty, grumpy god of evil who hated the world and most especially me.

“I was so convinced he was a child,” I whispered. “Scared. Alone. Full of misery and pain. That I could help him. Except he doesn’t want my help. He just wants to destroy everything.”

After a moment, Janel said, “Nothing you just stated is necessarily wrong.”

“Clearly, it is; he’s not a child.”

“Of course he isn’t. You’re here.”

I blinked and shifted to look at her. “I’m sorry?”

She gestured around us. “This isn’t Vol Karoth’s prison, Kihrin. This is Vol Karoth’s upper soul. This is his mind. Teraeth and I—we’re here, but we have bodies—”

“But you’re a demon now—”

“Shh. I still have a body. I haven’t given it up yet. But you, Kihrin, are here for good. You’re not linked to a normal body. Your normal body is dead.” Her eyes burned as she said that last part.

“And I am deeply regretting that…”

She continued speaking. “Vol Karoth is probably less childlike than you thought he’d be exactly because the link between you is bolstering his intelligence. To defeat Vol Karoth, you’re going to have defeat—” Janel chewed on the inside of her lip.

“Myself,” I said.

“Yes,” she said. “I suspect so, anyway.”

“Good luck with that,” Teraeth said.

“Asshole, you’re supposed to be supportive.” Ah, how I lamented a lack of anything to throw at him.

He pondered that before shaking his head. “No, you’ll have to find someone else for that. I’m not good at supportive. I’m more of a stabber.”

“Really? I never noticed.”

I stood up to break physical contact with both of them—it was impossibly distracting—and walked over to an interior doorway leading to a courtyard, well away from any windows. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t matter—if Vol Karoth were close enough for a window to make the difference, he’d be close enough to sense me. Still, I just needed to walk, move, do something.

Then I froze as I realized what I was seeing.

“Kihrin?” Janel asked behind me.

“There’s a tree,” I said.

In that narrow square of open land, a spindly, dead tree reached its branches up toward the sky, dug roots into rock-hard, dry ground.

“Is that a problem?” Janel sounded confused.

“I’ve never seen a tree here before,” I explained. “Nothing living, ever. Not a blade of grass or a stalk of weed or patch of mold.”

I had no idea what it meant.

“Are you sure that wasn’t here all along?” Teraeth asked.

I gave him a look.

“Okay, fine. It’s probably new,” Teraeth agreed. “But what does it mean?”

I bit my lip. Still had not a single clue in the universe. It seemed like a good sign, though. A single dead tree is hardly a miracle, but since this was Vol Karoth’s mind, it was a sign that something had changed. The question was: What had caused the change? Was it the arrival of Janel and Teraeth? Something else? That vision of Galen’s? The ones neither Vol Karoth nor I had caused?

“Thurvishar? Are you still here?”

[Yes. Trying very hard not to pay attention, however.] It was his voice, even if we couldn’t see him.

“Why wouldn’t you be trying—” I paused. It occurred to me that he was probably trying to give us at least a modicum of privacy or the illusion thereof. “Never mind. Look, whatever you’re doing back at the Lighthouse, keep doing it, all right? At the very least, it’s distracting him.”

[I’ll let Talon know. Stay out of trouble while I’m gone.]

“You think that’s possible?” Teraeth sounded skeptical, but I wasn’t sure if it was to the idea of distracting Vol Karoth or staying out of trouble.

Probably the latter. He knew me.

“I think we wouldn’t be sitting here if that vision hadn’t happened,” I said. “Might as well see if we can push it further. I just don’t know if it’s really because—” I stopped talking as I felt a chill.

“What is it?” Janel’s voice dropped to a whisper.

It was a bit like being outside when a cloud crossed over the sun. I felt the cold in the air, an invisible breeze ruffling the hairs on my skin. I’d been through it enough to know exactly what it meant, and the dread as much as anything else sent my pulse hammering against my heart.

“He’s found us,” I said.