106. THE HEALING OF THE WOUND

Janel’s story

The ritual cave under Raenora Valley

After Relos Var slew Vol Karoth

Janel knew Xivan had placed her name on the angel rosters in the Afterlife, but Janel hadn’t been certain it would work. It wouldn’t have changed anything if she’d known it wouldn’t Return her. What had to happen had to happen.

Doc had been prepared to take this to the final stages by himself. It turned out to be unnecessary; Janel had one advantage compared to so many others (save perhaps Teraeth and the few other members of the Black Brotherhood with similar training).1

She was an expert at coming back from the dead.

Janel rolled to her feet even as Urthaenriel fell from Relos Var’s fingers, a split second after the Stone of Shackles dropped from Vol Karoth’s. Relos Var’s expression was one of horror.

Across from him, Vol Karoth was dying.

“Do it now,” Doc yelled. The man turned visible. He stood next to the last ritual array, the portal designed to send anything inside its circumference to the other side of the Nythrawl Wound.

There to explode and heal the Wound forever.

Or if she wasn’t fast enough, to explode first.

Janel picked up Urthaenriel and threw it at Vol Karoth like a spear. Janel had no illusions that it would cause any permanent injury. Or even temporary injury. But she threw the sword with all her strength, and even without magic, Janel’s strength was no small thing. Vol Karoth hadn’t even started falling to the ground when the force of her throw sent both his body and the sword flying backward.

Relos Var, now in Vol Karoth’s body, crossed the threshold of the portal array.

Doc connected the last two points. The circle activated.

Vol Karoth—Vol Karoth’s body, anyway—vanished.

Urthaenriel vanished too. It seemed fitting that they’d go together.

A quiet beat of eternity filled the cave. Janel stood there, breathing. Doc kneeled next to the circle, looking like he wasn’t entirely certain what would happen next, if anything.

Across the room, Valathea inhaled, then started to cough. Doc was by her side in an instant, helping her up, pulling her to him. Janel couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t an easy thing to watch someone you love leap into harm’s way. Knowing that you could not, should not, stop it.

They’d all known that Relos Var would kill Valathea if given the chance.²

Then the man still on the floor—the man who looked like Relos Var but absolutely was not Relos Var—began to moan.

Janel ran to him.