MAYBE VINCENTS AND SOTOS WERE ALWAYS MEANT TO BE LIKE this: moving around one another like water, strong where the other was weak, weak where the other was strong. A sword and a shield, trading off roles depending on the nature of the fight. Faron had never fought with Signey Soto before, and yet in this moment it felt as if she had been doing it her whole life. It was easy to put herself in Signey’s shoes—reluctantly fighting the member of her family who she loved the most—and predict when Signey needed her to be aggressive. It was easy to moderate the strength of her magic so that she didn’t burn out quickly, allowing Signey to take the lead. It was easy; so easy, it felt familiar.
Then again, Faron had touched the light of Signey’s soul twice already. Maybe as a result, she knew her in a way no one else could.
Signey wielded the magic of her dragon relic like an extension of herself, no less dangerous for no longer having her dragon. Faron, with the magic of her aunt’s astral at her fingertips, rained down swords of conjured light on Iya. When he retaliated with powerful waves of fire, Signey stepped in front of Faron to conjure a shield. When he cut through the shield with a sudden spike of flame, Faron called up a funnel of water from the river to wash him off his feet.
All the while, Signey spoke to her brother. “Jesper,” she said as she twisted away from an attack, “you can fight him. You’re the strongest person I know. You can help us stop him.”
Iya never reacted with anything but flames and fury, but Faron knew him, too. Even with their bond severed, he had two kinds of magic at his disposal and he was using only one. Maybe Signey was getting through to Jesper.
All they needed was an opening, a long enough pause for Signey to sever Iya’s connection to Lightbringer, and they could take him down. Tie him up until the war was over and they could figure out how to remove him from Jesper’s body.
But Iya fought like an injured animal making a final stand, all ferocity and relentlessness. With the full power of Lightbringer behind him, they would run out of energy before he did.
Faron looked at Signey. Signey looked at Faron.
Faron raised an eyebrow. Signey nodded.
Stepping in front of Faron again, Signey drew upon her largest surge of magic yet, so large that her dragon relic covered her arms with bolts of light. Signey conjured a wall so blinding that Faron had to cover her eyes, and then Signey formed those bolts into massive battle-axes. With a flick of her hand, they began to fall, blade-first, toward Iya.
He jumped out of range, holding up an arm to block both the light and the dirt that flew from beneath the axes’ blades.
So he never saw Faron coming until she tackled him to the ground.
They rolled around, warring for dominance, but she had the element of surprise and the strength of an astral on her side. Iya glared up at her when he landed on his back, his arms trapped beneath her legs. She pressed her thumb against his windpipe in a dark echo of that night in Port Sol, when he’d left fingertip-shaped bruises on her throat. That night, he had leaned close and told her that she was nothing without him. Now she was the one leaning close, her knees digging into his rib cage, and she hissed, “You are nothing without Lightbringer.”
“Don’t hurt him,” Signey screamed from behind her. “He’s still my brother.”
Faron took a deep breath to corral her anger. Her fingers loosened, though she kept her knees pressed against his sides. “Jesper, if you don’t help us, Iya will kill your sister. Gael, if you don’t fight him now, he’ll kill me. Is that what you want? Is that what both of you want?”
Iya writhed beneath her, but Faron fed more magic into her limbs to keep him down.
“Jesper, please.” Signey appeared over her shoulder, blocking the sun. “I know you’re in there. Please tell me you’re still in there.”
The writhing increased, until Faron could feel her strength waning. Signey was still appealing to her brother, telling stories from their childhood in a voice thick with tears, but Iya was minutes, perhaps seconds, away from freeing himself. They had no more time.
“Break the bond!” she shouted. “You have to do it now!”
Signey came up beside her. Her dragon relics were dark, used up. Her face was damp. But her arm was outstretched, and her eyes were closed.
Iya roared.
He bucked off Faron as if she weighed nothing, and she hit the ground elbow-first. Stifling a cry of pain, she scrambled back to her feet. Jesper’s body contorted on the ground. A light carved its way through his skin from feet to head, illuminating his shadowy internal organs, crawling up his throat like a glowing hand, and exploding from his eyes and mouth. His roar dissolved into a scream so pained that Faron’s stomach turned.
And then it was over.
There was a thud before the light disappeared, leaving Iya strewn across the ground like a doll. Signey dropped beside him, rolling him onto his back, saying her brother’s name in a broken voice. Faron inched closer, her magic still at her fingertips, and poked him in the side with the pointed tip of her shoe. He gasped like a drowning man and surged upward, blinking rapidly.
Hazel eyes found hers, wide and terrified. “What just happened?”
“… Gael…?” Faron asked warily. She had retreated to a safe distance away, but it was like looking at a child who had lost their parents in the crowd. Alone in the world for the first time, and feeling all the more vulnerable for it. “Is that you?”
“I can’t…” Gael looked up at the sky. “I can’t hear him. Oh, gods. I can’t hear him. I can’t feel him.”
“Where’s Jesper?” Signey asked faintly. Her face was a pale moon, so colorless that her freckles were stark against her skin. “My brother, is he in there?”
Gael touched his chest. “Yes. He was helping you. We fought together to help you break the bond. Now he’s exhausted, but he’s alive.”
“Oh… Oh, saints…”
“You did it,” Faron said triumphantly, turning to Signey. “You—shit.”
Signey had collapsed in the mud, her limbs arranged haphazardly. Faron scrambled over to her, feeling for a pulse. Signey’s skin was ice cold. Her eyes were open and unseeing.
“No,” she whispered, grabbing Signey’s wrist to check again. “No, no, no, no.”
There was a hollow silence in Faron’s head, a dangerous numbness spreading throughout her body. She checked the side of Signey’s neck, and then she checked Signey’s wrist, again and again, as if a pulse would magically appear where none had been. Signey Soto, who had made her sister so happy even in the midst of an attack on their island. Signey Soto, who had rescued her from her prison despite Faron’s attempt to command her soul. Signey Soto, who Faron was only just getting to know but cared enough about to mourn anyway.
Signey had warned her that she didn’t think she could break this final bond, and Faron hadn’t listened. Now, she would have to tell her sister that her girlfriend was dead.
“Is she…” Gael trailed off at whatever expression he saw on Faron’s face. “Let me see if I can do anything for her. Her body might just be overwhelmed by the magic, and it’s put her in stasis until—”
“Don’t touch her,” Faron snarled, but it felt mechanical. Her mind was several steps ahead, imagining how that conversation with Elara would go. How many things would she take away from her sister? “You and your little friend have done enough.”
“He’s not my friend,” Gael said darkly. “He’s a power-hungry monster who needs to be stopped.” He knelt beside her, prying Faron’s fingers from Signey’s cold skin. She was too tired to fight him. Tears ran down her cheeks, and her breath came out in soft sobs. “The last time I fought against Lightbringer, he got inside my head, and then he stayed. This time, we can end him. After that… whatever punishment you feel I deserve, I’ll accept. But first let me help her. Let me try—with blood magic. Not just because we’ll need all the help we can get, but because I did this to my family in the first place. This is a chance to make it right.”
Faron finally looked at him, still crying. She felt a spark of emotion in her numb chest, something almost like pride. She hadn’t been wrong about Gael Soto. He had been twisted by Lightbringer’s influence. He had wanted to be free, to be a hero again. He did plan to redeem himself the only way he knew how.
They were the same, and she’d been right to put her trust in him.
It was too late, but it was never too late to take responsibility. And if there was a chance, no matter how small, that they could save Signey’s life, then who was Faron to say no? If she had to have that conversation with Elara, Faron wanted to be able to say that she’d done everything she could. She could give her sister that much.
“Okay,” she whispered, reaching down to close Signey’s eyes just in case this didn’t work. “Try your best.”