CHAPTER THIRTY

Golden light surrounded her, embraced her. She floated in a pool with no water, held aloft by the gentle radiance. Her chest ached and she knew something was broken inside, but she felt only peace. The light was keeping the worst of her pain away, though tears leaked down her cheeks.

“Shade…”

She lifted a head as heavy as a stone and blinked to clear the moisture from her eyes. Why were her eyes watering so badly? Was it the light? Slowly, she wiped the tears away and lowered a hand covered in blood. Not tears, then. It should have shocked her, but it didn’t. There was always a price to pay for bending the world to suit you.

“You’re terribly hurt.”

She recognized the voice speaking from the radiance. At last she felt something – rage.

“Korin… Illario…”

She said his name slowly, the rage building. It jolted through her like a knife hitting bone. Pain rose with the anger, and her awareness expanded. Yes, she was floating in a pool of brilliance – the qaraz – but she wasn’t alone. Nearby, Matteo floated beside her, his eyes closed and his face peaceful. Her heart lurched. No, not the peace of death. His eyelids fluttered open as she watched. His brow wrinkled in concern when he spotted her. Her pain and rage retreated momentarily as he reached out and took her hand, their eyes meeting. “You’re hurt!” he cried. “What’s happened?”

“Ask him,” she said, her voice rough. She lifted her chin toward the other man floating with them, unable to make a more aggressive motion. Faces, she was hurt.

“I took you both into the qaraz,” Korin said. He stood facing them. Not floating but standing. He had control here, she realized. Of course, he was a Sicani, and she was a broken wreck. She wasn’t even sure if her blades were at her waist – it seemed too great an effort to check. All she had was Matteo’s hand in hers. She squeezed slightly, hoping he would take it as a warning and not some loving gesture.

“Why?”

Korin’s gaze – as golden as the light around them – met hers. “Because you would have died in moments if I hadn’t. Here, with all the pure magic left in this land to hold you, there is time to heal you. And the magic is pure again. You cleansed the qaraz, my child. Now, it is your turn to be saved.” He stepped closer, his hands raised.

Shade jerked and cried out as pain burst through her. “Don’t touch me!”

“Shade, stop, don’t move,” Matteo said, moving closer to her and trying to hold her in place. “You’re bleeding. You’re in pain. Let him help!”

“No! Don’t trust him. He wanted me to die.” Her breath wheezed in and out of clenched teeth, her words harsh grunts. It was taking everything she had left to keep away from him. She leaned into Matteo, her strength draining from her. “He sent me here to die.”

“He wouldn’t do that, he’s Lord Safire’s most trusted friend. Let him heal you!”

“It is alright, Matteo,” Korin said. He hadn’t come any closer, but he hadn’t lowered his hands either. “She speaks the truth. As she knows it, anyway.”

“I know the truth,” Shade said hoarsely. “I know you and the Coterie wanted me to destroy everything, including myself.” She panted heavily once she’d gotten the words out. She’d never felt so weak…

“We were wrong,” he said simply. “I was wrong. All this time, I thought there was only one way to fight the Unseen. I wanted to force my people from hiding, make them finish the war those demons started. You were a useful tool. Or so I believed.”

She couldn’t do anything but grunt in disgust. Matteo’s arms tightened around her, but her body had gone numb.

Korin’s face looked suddenly haggard in the soft light. He tapped a finger against his chest. “I was wrong,” he repeated, and tears silvered his eyes. “You are not a tool to be used, you are something I never thought to see again. The power in you, the light. It’s this!” He waved at the radiance. “Already I can feel your power streaking through the qaraz – it has reached every Veil in the land and strengthened them. Don’t you understand what that means? What we thought lost, or at the very least, corrupted beyond saving, still exists. In you! Somehow…”

“I don’t… I don’t know what in the hells you’re talking about…”

He was trying to confuse her. Faces, she felt so cold. A shiver racked her, but it didn’t bring the pain she expected. She felt nothing… not even Matteo’s arms around her. And she was tired. Terribly tired. Her eyes closed and she hadn’t the strength to open them.

“Shade! Shade!”

She wanted to tell Matteo to be quiet, but his shouting started to fade, and she felt a heaviness grip her. It would be so easy to sink into it…

“Korin! She’s fading – she’s dying!”

Poor Matteo. He sounded so desperate, so sad.

“Please, help her!”

It didn’t matter. She was beyond help, and she didn’t even care. No wonder Raiden always faced death so calmly. It wasn’t so bad…

“You are the most stubborn girl I have ever met. You’d rather die than listen to a word I say.” There was no terror or desperation in Korin’s voice, only annoyance. Shade wanted to smirk, but she couldn’t feel her lips. Why would it bother him if she died? It’s what he’d wanted.

“I already admitted I was wrong, my child. Now, this will hurt…”

Suddenly, she could feel her lips again. She could feel everything. A scream ripped from her throat as her entire body was dropped into molten fire. Her back arched and her limbs stiffened. The violence of her reaction knocked Matteo aside, but someone still held her. Someone cruel and vindictive. Wherever his hands touched, agony followed. She could do nothing but scream. Scream until her throat burned as badly as the rest of her.

And then there was solid earth beneath her. It embraced her as the light had moments before. The pain vanished, leaving her gasping. She stared at a hazy sky – not colorless with heat, but a soft magenta. A Veil sky. Her Veil. No longer racked with pain, she could think. It was her Veil; she felt it in her soul. Joy welled up in her chest – a chest free of aches in a body whole and strong.

Faces blocked the marvelous view and she frowned in disappointment until she realized she knew them. Her friends. Yes, they were all here. They had come to fight for her… before she had bent the world with the Wild Power.

“Cyril?” she said, and her voice was no longer ragged and hoarse. “Are you crying, old man?”

“Yes, little swallow.” Cyril knelt at her head, leaning over her. His roughened hand stroked her hair back from her face, and he was grinning even as tears leaked into his grizzled mustache. “What of it?”

She stared up at her friend in consternation. Had she ever seen him cry before? By the Faces, they were all crying. Even Manoli, though he was laughing at the same time and pounding his cousin on the back who wept unabashedly at her side. Ever the healer, though, Petra was feeling her limbs and probing at her midsection.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, but he held her wrist, his fingers against her pulse point. She doubted he heard her, though, he was crying so hard.

“We thought we’d lost you.”

Shade turned her head and found Dante Safire. Tears streaked the dust on his cheeks, but his eyes were clear as he looked at her.

“You shaved,” she said.

He rubbed his stubbly chin, flashing a smile. “It’ll grow back.”

Her belly did a strange flip. She remembered him standing in front of her like a living shield and felt her heart swell with gratitude. “I like it,” she said. “You look like a scoundrel.”

“Can you stand up?” he asked, and she nodded. Suddenly, several pairs of hands were helping her rise.

When she reached her feet, the first thing she saw was Matteo standing over Raiden Mad. Raiden was on his knees, his head bent, but he was lifting his sword toward a confused Matteo. Offering it to him with both hands.

“What is this?” Shade demanded. She took a step and nearly fell. Hells, her knees were weak. But Cyril and Dante were there to aid her, and her next step was stronger, surer. “What in the hells are you doing, Raiden?”

He wrenched his head toward her. His eyes were red-rimmed and wild. “I owe him a blood debt. My life is his to take if he wants it.”

“You don’t owe me anything!” Matteo blurted, waving his hands in refusal. “I’m not going to lop your head off, captain!”

Shade wanted to scoff at Raiden’s offer, she wanted to kick that sword out of his hands and shake some sense into him. But she did none of those things. Instead, she went to him and laid a hand on his bent head. At her touch, he began to sob. She took his sword and handed it to Matteo, giving him a look. He didn’t need any other explanation from her. He nodded and stepped away, holding the sword like it was a sleeping snake.

“Raiden,” she said, and she went to one knee beside him. Her hand tightened in his hair and she forced him to look at her. “It was not your fault. Do you hear me? And I fixed it. Matteo is alive. I’m alive. So, you can keep your head, understand?”

He began to tremble, his face crumbling. Beneath her hand, he nodded, and she let go of him. “Shade,” he said, and his voice trembled as badly as the rest of him. She gathered him to her, holding his shaking body tightly.

For a long time, his wretched sobs were the only sounds beneath the newly raised Veil.

By the next morning, a collection of colorfully painted carts had gathered at the base of the broken hill where Shade had placed her Quattro Canto. The newly raised Veil had grown in the night, expanding over the land like a rain cloud and the carts resided within its shelter. Golondrina moved among them, laughing and calling and singing to one another as they set up their low-slung tents. The multi-colored felt and canvas structures looked like a scattering of blossoms across the greening grass. With the rising sun, more carts snaked into what had once been the Nexus, each Golondrina band following one of the several qaraz crisscrossing this powerful place.

Made more powerful by the Veil above it.

My Veil…

Shade stood watch from the top of the cliff she and Matteo had climbed just a few short centuries ago, observing the arrival of her clan and others, Jolynn’s among them. She’d have to greet the matriarch at some point, but not now. There would be pleasantries and discussions, celebrating and planning, greetings… and farewells. Right now, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. She wanted a moment to savor her triumph.

The awareness of her Veil rested at the back of her mind, curled there like a sleeping cat. A sleeping, purring cat. It was strange. Even after interacting with that harmless creature at Satine’s cottage, she still hated and feared the beasts. But it was exactly what her Veil felt like – a cat. She touched her bare midriff, feeling a faint tracery of scars across her tattoos. Even sleeping cats had claws.

Even stranger was the fact she was still standing. Standing strong. And whole. She’d paid the price for her Veil, nearly the ultimate price, but she’d been given a reprieve. All the Faces and the Hidden had spared her.

No, the Faces of God didn’t save me. Korin did…

In the aftermath of her return from the qaraz, once Raiden had pulled himself together, they’d started to relate their adventures to one another when Dante had realized one of them was still missing. In their joy and excitement at reuniting, none of them had noticed Korin Illario had not returned from the qaraz. Immediately, Cyril had fallen into a trance to try to locate him while the rest of them waited pensively.

“He healed me,” Shade had said, taking Dante by the hand. “Maybe he just needs a moment more in the qaraz to recover.”

White-faced, Dante shook his head, his hand squeezing hers. Tears silvered his lower lids. “There is only so much strength in him, even if he is Sicani. We had days of hard travel, and it cost him. He made it possible for me to travel the qaraz, too. I fear–”

His words ended sharply, and she released his hand to slip her arm around his waist. A tremor shook him as he leaned against her. “He is a Sicani,” she whispered. “None of us can possibly understand his power. He’ll be alright.”

Shade looked up, feeling eyes upon her. Standing with Manoli and Petra, Matteo was watching her and Dante. His gaze was shadowed, but he flashed his usual smile when he caught her look.

“Did you see what happened?” Shade asked him, feeling an unexpected distance open between them. They had been through so much together, but everything seemed different.

His brow furrowed and his eyes grew dark. “I saw him lay his hands on you, then you screamed.” He shuddered, blinking at the memory. “There was so much light. It was too bright to see anything. Like… like being dropped into the sun. Korin… I couldn’t see anything but you, Shade.”

Their eyes met again, and this time Shade held his gaze until he gave her a crooked smile. She smiled back and felt the camaraderie they’d shared return. No matter what happened between them from this point forward, Matteo would always be her friend and protector. He’d sworn his life to her. And paid it… once. She vowed he would never pay such a price again.

Finally, after an hour had passed, Cyril emerged from his trance. He turned stricken eyes to Dante and said what they’d all dreaded, “I cannot find him. Korin Illario is gone…”

Dante’s agonized shout had rung across the plateau, and once again Shade found herself embracing a weeping man. The others had stood watching helplessly, until Cyril ordered them to set up a campsite as evening fell.

With the Veil above them, they hadn’t needed to draw circles against the coming night, but no one had slept easily after darkness fell. The following morning, Shade hadn’t been the only one to watch the sun lift above the horizon.

With the sun, the Golondrina began to arrive, drawn by the surging in the qaraz. Tied to those magical pathways, they’d been called to her Veil. Manoli and Petra had gone down the cliff to greet them, eager to see their people again. When Shade told Cyril he could go, too, if he wanted to, he’d gruffly told her to kiss her own behind if she didn’t stop pestering him, and he set about making breakfast. He and Matteo had fallen into an easy rhythm preparing the camp for the day, and Shade was reminded of how Matteo had worked so effortlessly with his brother. It had been good to see, but it made her wonder if he would leave with Dante or stay with her. And how would Dante react if Matteo asked to stay?

“Shade.”

Shade stepped back from the cliff’s edge and turned to face Dante Safire, her heart racing. Unexpectedly. Would he always make her heart pound? But so much had happened since she’d seen him last. So much had changed. While she wasn’t in love with Matteo, their relationship was becoming something else. Something beyond lovers. Dante, on the other hand…

“Dante,” she said, feeling suddenly awkward. Which wasn’t entirely new around him. “How are you?”

He grimaced and rubbed his chin. His beard was still mostly stubble. She wanted to run her hand over it and see how it felt. But she kept her hands at her sides.

“I have received what I wanted after all this time,” he said. “You delivered the impossible, and though I never doubted you, it’s still a shock. It’s also only the beginning. There’s so much work to be done here, but…”

Now it was his turn to look awkward. And somewhat ashamed. Shade knew what he was going to say, so she said it for him. “But you need to return to Sicaria.”

“I’m afraid so. Bishop Arturious is trying to start a war. I must gather the allies I have left, those on the city council, and put a stop to it before the whole city is awash in blood. With Raiden’s help, we can convince everyone there is no Veil to fight over. And once word of your Veil spreads, we can build a coalition to break the Brotherhood’s hold on our land, to end the Capo’s corruption, to–”

“Our Veil,” Shade interrupted him. “It’s our Veil, Dante. Well, technically, I believe it’s yours. You hold the charter.”

A rueful smile crossed his lips. “We both know the charter is merely a legal document granting me rights to the land.” He lifted a hand, gesturing. “This Veil belongs to you, to you and your people.”

She lifted a brow. “But you’ll happily collect the tax revenue from it, and any gems we might mine, won’t you, my prince?”

Her tone was light, and he chuckled, giving her a small shrug. “I have to make a living. And since you won’t be paying tithes to the Brotherhood, or tribute to the Capos, you’ll be making quite a decent living yourself.”

Shade kicked at the sandy ground beneath her feet, seeing in her mind her true goal: bloodwizards, Golondrina bloodwizards, bearing the blades she would create for them. “Eventually,” she said, keeping her thoughts to herself. “In the meantime, we’ll need your help.”

“And you’ll have it.”

“All the way from Sicaria?”

Dante sighed, and he looked out over the cliff. The breeze ruffled his dark hair. He’d grown rather scruffy since the last time she’d seen him. Life on the run didn’t suit him. “Do you really think your people would welcome a Malavitan Prince among them? Would I rule them, or would we rule them together?” He faced her again, his blue eyes piercing deep. There was regret in his gaze, and something like… hope. Did he want her to say they could rule together? Shade held her breath, wondering at such a possibility. Briefly. She shook herself from the fantasy.

“No one rules the Golondrina,” she said at last. “Certainly not me, and definitely not you. They live in the Wastes to be free, to be a community not a kingdom. I might have raised this Veil, but it belongs to them.” She smiled at him, and felt tears prick her eyes. “If you stayed, would you have to be a prince?”

His expression softened. He lifted a hand to touch her cheek and she stepped into his embrace. They held each other, and Shade felt an overwhelming sadness. They could have been good together, she knew it in her soul. But their worlds would always be separate. Dante’s reply confirmed it. “If you returned to Sicaria with me, would you have to be a bloodwizard?”

Her eyes squeezed shut and she buried her face against his chest. “Dante,” she whispered. “I–”

“I know.”

For a long moment they stood together, the sun warm on their heads. Until finally, Shade released him and stepped back. She didn’t bother to wipe the tears from her cheeks as she stared up at him. “When will you leave?” she asked, glad she could keep her voice steady.

“As soon as my men arrive. I sent a message early this morning, and it will take a few days for them to reach us. Once they’ve gathered, I’ll return to Sicaria.”

Her eyes went to Matteo again. He and Cyril were sitting together beside the fire, Raiden near them seemingly lost in his own misery until Matteo handed him a tin cup of steaming tea. Surprise crossed Raiden’s features, shifting quickly to gratitude. He accepted the tea and Matteo clapped him on the shoulder, flashing a smile Raiden tentatively returned.

Dante had followed her gaze, and sudden understanding relaxed his expression. “I have to take Raiden with me, for now,” he said. “I’ll need him as my liaison with the Empire, but I think he’ll be our liaison, as well. I know he wouldn’t be happy if I kept him in Sicaria all the time. And we both know he can take care of himself. He can address any issues you might have and let me know how you’re managing.” His eyes flicked toward her. “I think it might be a good idea for Matteo to stay here, though. It would be good for me to have a man I trust so near you. To keep you out of trouble.”

His last words drew a laugh from her. “You think one man will be enough to keep me out of trouble?”

He grinned. “No, but it’s worth a try.”

“Are you so sure he’ll want to stay?” she asked, feeling her throat tighten unexpectedly. The sadness returned, along with a chasm of loss opening in her belly.

Dante fixed his blue eyes on her. “I would stay if I were him. I would stay forever. If I were him…”

He reached for her and pulled her into his arms once again. This time, he kissed her. Hard enough to make her toes curl and her stomach burn, but there was a rock in her throat. This wasn’t love, or passion, this was goodbye.

Raiden watched Dante and Shade over the brim of his cup, and nearly choked when they embraced for a passionate kiss. The kiss was brief, but they stood clinging to one another after it ended, and he wondered what had been decided. Dante hadn’t said much since rising that morning, his face haggard with grief over Korin. The Prince had sent a bird made of air and fire to his men waiting in Enrice before he’d sought out Shade. Raiden had assumed to say farewell, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“Parting is painful,” Cyril said gruffly, tossing the last of his tea into the fire.

“That doesn’t look like a parting,” Matteo said. He stirred the fire with a crooked stick, dropping his gaze from the scene. Was he bothered by seeing Shade in another man’s arms? Raiden eyed him, unsure what had gone on between the two of them. Only… she’d risked the whole world to bring him back to life. He had to be important to her. Just… how important?

His attention returned to the couple on the cliff’s edge. They had parted, but still stood close together, their hands joined and their eyes locked. A dull ache rested in Raiden’s chest, but he ignored it. Shade would never be his, and he had to accept it. And he had to be glad she didn’t hate him after all he’d done. He glanced at Matteo. The man’s focus was intent on the fire. A little too intent. He felt a sudden camaraderie with the man he’d killed.

“It is a parting,” Raiden said as much to convince himself as to convince Matteo. “Dante has to return to Sicaria. We all do. The bishop might have started a war with that damnable false charter, and we must put a stop to it. We have to make it clear the Empire stands with Dante Safire. He’ll need good men at his side.”

Matteo shifted, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m not going,” he said. “I… My place is here.” He looked up at Raiden, his features crumpled. “I pledged my life to her. I’m her man, now, not Dante’s. I will guard her to my last breath.”

You already did, Raiden wanted to say, but shame held his tongue. The young man’s earnest gaze was too much, and he looked away. “I understand,” he said softly, his eyes falling on Shade. Light bathed her; she seemed to glow from head to toe and it reminded him of the first time he’d laid eyes on her. He’d thought she was an angel come to earth. Silently, he made the same vow as Matteo: his life was hers. To the last breath.

“Korin said she was made of light, of magic,” Matteo said in a low, wondering tone. “I don’t know what he meant, but I believe it.”

“Korin said what exactly?” Cyril asked sharply.

“He said Shade was something he’d thought lost. Some ancient magic even older than him, than the Sicani, I guess. Neither one of us understood what he was saying.” Matteo shook his head, stabbing at the fire with his stick. “It had to do with the qaraz.”

Cyril grunted and rubbed his hands on his knees, watching Shade with Dante. “The qaraz are ancient,” he muttered. “As old as the land itself. Sometimes my people will catch glimpses of… things when we travel the qaraz. Shapes made of light, human but not human. Visions of something lost.” He shook himself. “Korin was dying,” he said in his rough voice. “Perhaps he was seeing things.”

“Perhaps,” Raiden said. “But I think Matteo may be right. If there is light left in this world, it’s in her.”

The three of them fell silent as Dante and Shade crossed the plateau to the campsite. Their hands were clasped, but as they neared they broke apart. When they reached the fire, there was a distance between them. A strange relief filled Raiden. It had been a parting. But even as relief filled him, anxiety followed. As an Imperial envoy, his place was with Dante Safire. If Dante was leaving, he would have to go, too.

“We should go down and greet the clans,” Shade said to Cyril, smiling. “You up for the climb, old man, or do you want me to toss you off the cliff?”

“Only if you jump first.” Cyril rose, stroking his long mustaches, but he was grinning. “And it’s about time you decided to go down there. Jolynn will be hopping mad if you put her off any longer.”

She frowned. “I hope Jolynn understands this Veil isn’t going to work like a caravan.”

“And how is it going to work, little swallow?”

Uncertainty clouded her features briefly but vanished in a sudden grin. “I haven’t figured it out yet, but I do know one thing – our days as Waste-walkers are ending.”

Cyril shook his head, still smiling. “I wouldn’t count on that.”

“I never count on anything but my blades and my magic,” she said, but then she gave each of them a look, adding softly, “And my friends.”

Beside her, Dante cleared his throat. “You can always count on us, my lady. Even when we aren’t with you.”

She lowered her head to him, as close to a bow as he’d ever get. “I know, my prince.” Her attention shifted to Raiden. “You’re going to be our liaison, Captain Mad, are you up for the task? It will mean a lot of traveling back and forth between my Veil and Sicaria, but I think you’ll prove to be a capable Waste-walker. Your immunity to our magic will be a definite boon.”

“I… Yes, of course,” Raiden said, a stunned pride filling him. He rose and bowed to her deeply, his hand on his sword hilt. “I offer my services, my lady. Proudly.”

Beside him, Matteo jumped to his feet. “Prince Safire! My lord. I… I have to tell you–”

“Ah, Matteo,” Dante interrupted him as if the younger man hadn’t said anything at all. “I’m afraid you won’t be returning to Sicaria with us. I believe you would serve me best by remaining with Shade and the Golondrina. I need a good man in our new Veil, a loyal man. Shade’s already agreed to let you stay.”

Agape, Matteo blinked rapidly, looking from his prince to Shade. A slow smile crossed his lips and he ducked his head, tugging his broad-brimmed hat low over his eyes. “Of course, my prince. I’m honored to serve the Lady Witch. For you, my lord,” he added hastily.

“We are all honored to serve the Lady Witch,” Dante said, his gaze returning to Shade. He bowed to her as deeply as Raiden had without a hint of mockery. When he straightened, his eyes gleamed. “To the last breath.”

“To the last breath,” Raiden echoed, at almost the same instance Matteo spoke the words.

Shade looked shocked, and Cyril chuckled. “Close your mouth before you swallow a bug,” he said, and she snapped her lips closed, giving him a glare. Still chuckling, he held out a hand for her. “Let’s welcome our people home.”