“WHY do you run, Zar-a?”
Zara tripped over a rock concealed by the snow and fell. The familiar voice chilled her already cold body, reaching to her soul. “Go away!” She surged unsteadily to her feet and ran. She managed only a few more feet before she lost her footing again and went down. Her hands skidded across something sharp under the snow. She pushed aside the pain and stood, crossing her arms over her chest, shivering against the frigid air.
Lungs screamed for warmth. Muscles spasmed as her body attempted to generate life-saving warmth. Shivering, she forced herself forward. The presence stayed, drifting on the wind.
“Go away,” she whispered, her voice dry and strained.
The gurgle of rushing water reached her ears.
She pushed faster. “I’m not like her.” She broke through the trees.
“Even if you are, is that truly a bad thing?” The woman stood between her and the river, her thin, translucent clothes inappropriate for the weather and terrain.
Zara halted, arms flailing, sliding on a patch of ice. She landed on her backside with a resounding thud. Her body was too numb to feel the impact.
The woman moved toward her.
“Go away.” Zara scrambled on hands and knees to get away. The ice slowed her. Blood stained the snowy ground under her hands, but there was no pain.
“I only wish to help.” A small hand reached down and waited. The way to the cliff’s edge was clear.
“No!” Zara crawled toward the cliff. Cold, stiff muscles protested, slowing her movements. “I’m not like her.” Each word brought her closer to the end of her journey.
The woman followed, inching closer with each inch Zara moved away. Her smile was anything but kind. “I can help, but you must trust me.” She reached down, so close she could have touched Zara if she’d wanted, but she didn’t. “Take my hand.”
“No!”
Jerrod erupted from the trees, charging headlong into the woman, knocking her over Zara’s head. She screamed with rage and grabbed at Zara as she flew over. Zara ducked the flailing hand. The woman vanished into the cold air. Jerrod stood guard as Zara curled up on the ground. The cold penetrated her bones. She surrendered to it, unable and unwilling to fight its hold. She belly-crawled toward the cliff.
“I can’t allow this.” Vil’joh’s voice reached through the numbness. Then he materialized between her and the cliff, blocking her retreat. He scowled and shook his head.
“Why do you keep stopping me?” she tried to scream, but her voice came out little more than a whisper. She rose to all fours and plotted a path around him.
He squatted before her, his expression stern. “The time is not right.”
“What?”
“Our Lord Iykey has no need to explain his instructions.” Disapproval etched his face.
“Iykey?” she whispered.
“Of course. He has not forgotten us.” Annoyance flashed.
“I want to go home.” Tears froze on her lashes.
“The time is not right.” He stood.
Was that supposed to be an answer? She frowned. What did it mean? The cold drove even deeper. Her thoughts grew more muddled. She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth. “U’uskoh?”
“You’ll see him again.”
“When he dies, you mean.”
He didn’t respond.
Torn between her desire to see U’uskoh and not wanting him to die, she curled up on the icy ground.
* * *
Cygnet charged ahead.
Tarsius dismounted under the trees and ran toward Zara, sliding on snow-covered ice. She did not raise her head or move. He dropped to his knees at her side, a hand going to her face. Her skin held no warmth. Fear crawled through him. “Zara?”
“No.” Her soft voice was forlorn and lost. “I won’t do it.”
He nearly fainted with relief. “You need do nothing unless you choose to.” He dropped his cloak around her and pulled her into his arms.
“I can’t beat her.” She shook her head weakly. Her defeated tone pierced his heart. Her words made no sense, but right then wasn’t the time to ask for clarification or explanation.
“Stay with me.” He mounted the borrowed horse, settled Zara in front of him, gathered the reins, and guided his mount through the forest. “We defeated Ray’din. Remember? We defeated him. We can defeat anyone with Sear’dan’s help, god or mortal. They have no control over us as long as he protects us. We did it together, Zara. Not separate.”
“But what she wants....” A heavy curtain of guilt hung over her eyes when she finally looked up at him. Unshed tears sparkled.
“Tell me. Help me understand.”
Her chin dropped to her chest. Had she lost consciousness? She wasn’t shivering.
He frowned. Not much time. He had to get her home before it was too late.
“I love him.” The breeze nearly snatched the soft words away. “I can’t betray him.”
A sharp pain in his chest threatened to double him over. He straightened, unsure at first how to respond. “Oh, Zara, is that what this is about?” He hugged her closer. “I am so sorry I have been party to hurting you.”
“I’m not like her.” She went limp in his arms, her head lolling against his chest.
“You have no need to be,” he whispered, though he had no idea who “her” was. He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes. Grief gripped his heart. “You never have to be.” He rode as fast as his burden and ice and snow would safely allow.
Cygnet ran ahead, while Jerrod stayed close.
* * *
Every inch of Zara’s body hurt. Too reminiscent of times Skar had punished her, but this was worse. The pain wasn’t more severe. Just... different. Like pins and needles shoved into every inch of skin and muscle. Each movement created a new wave of agony. She froze, remaining perfectly still. Pain receded only a bit. She opened her eyes and looked around.
Tarsius leaned closer, a worried frown marring his handsome face.
She wanted to speak, but breath came only in labored gasps. Still fully clothed, she laid in a tub of water. Liquid fire against her skin. She tried to move away from it, but Tarsius held firm.
“Rest. You’re safe.” He brushed damp hair away from her face with a tender touch. He smiled, but the fear in his eyes overrode any reassurance she might have garnered from it.
“Hot,” she managed to mouth.
He nodded, his smile fading. He and his mother shared a worried look. “Rest, Zara.”
Her eyes tried to close, but she forced them open. Her gaze skimmed other faces scattered about her.
Camilla stood close, looking sad and helpless, even as she ordered about acolytes and servants. She gave Zara a weak smile, then her concerned gaze rested on her son’s weary face.
For the first time, Zara realized what she’d missed with the loss of her own child. She would never see her child grow, much less watch him or her struggle to deal with things she was powerless to help with. For the first time, she began to understand how difficult being a mother must truly be, and she grieved the loss all over again.
Shin’til eased down beside the tub and wiped Zara’s face with a cloth, drawing her gaze and distracting her. The sadness in those blue eyes matched those of her mentor. Tears gathered.
Death wasn’t long in coming. Zara longed for it. Yet she feared it. Would death take her home to U’uskoh, a man she loved more than life itself? Would it leave her to watch over Tarsius? Would she be sent somewhere else?
Vil’joh had said the time wasn’t right, but what was he waiting for? When would the time be right? Was she doomed to this fate until U’uskoh himself died?
Tarsius wiped a tear from her cheek. Her gaze went to his. He struggled with the emotions clear in hazel eyes. A movement near his shoulder caught her eye.
Philip shifted awkwardly, as though uncomfortable, but he remained near Tarsius.
Her eyes mirroring the pain in Tarsius’ gaze, Cygnet stirred beside the tub, moving to the foot of it.
Jerrod, however, grinned and nosed Zara’s hand. What was he so happy about? If she died, wouldn’t he? Or was it different with them than Tarsius and Cygnet since they weren’t born bonded?
She closed her eyes, exhausted beyond words, too tired to unravel the mystery of Jerrod’s odd behavior. Every inch of skin burned. Needles shot through her, creating an endless sea of agony as skin came alive and heat surged through it. The heat increased, and she whimpered. Her only concession to the pain. She wanted to scream, but there was no strength to do so.
“Zara, open your eyes.”
She did as the warm voice bid. The others knelt around her. Tarsius, Camilla, Shin’til. Cygnet’s head bowed at her feet. She sensed Jerrod at her head, though she hadn’t heard him move. Philip stood only a couple of steps behind Tarsius, his concerned gaze on his friend. Sadness cloaked him.
Everything seemed frozen in time. Even the candle flames were still, frozen like those in a painting. Was she dead? Was this what death was like in this world? Frozen in the moment your life ended?
“You are not dead, Zara” came an amused, warm voice.
Her gaze sought the source. Father Solnar Dyrian. She frowned in confusion.
He stepped closer, waving a hand to indicate the assembly around her. “They pray for your life, or your death. They know not which. It is out of their hands. This moment is only for you and me. Death is not something to fear, Zara. It is merely a transition from one life to another. They grieve, knowing they will miss you, but not one of them fears death. They will join me when time comes. Mortals miss those who leave them, whether it be to death or just a long separation, but for the dead, they rejoice in the end of suffering and struggle. Skar did you a horrible disservice by not showing you what true devotion can bring.”
Her thoughts went to U’uskoh and his church, his complete devotion to Iykey. The god he served was the only god she’d known until she’d been brought unwillingly to Ultrana. Skar may not have shown her such things, but U’uskoh had. He’d lived his faith. As Tarsius did.
“You will always miss him, Zara, but he yet lives to fight.” The priest shook his head and smiled. “Ray’din can never take that from you. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot destroy the love you have for U’uskoh. Even death did not bring an end to it. Love is eternal, Zara. Evil cannot overcome it.”
She nodded, tears coming to her eyes. “I want to go home.”
“That is not within my power,” he admitted sadly.
“I have to stay?”
“That choice is yours.” Father Solnar gently gripped her hand.
Light surrounded them. His image changed. The man who held her hand was clean-shaven with the same clear blue eyes as the red-cloaked priest. White robes fluttered slightly in some undetectable breeze. His face was gentle and kind. He motioned casually with a sweep of his hand to her head and feet.
Cygnet’s form shifted into the priestess. Blue eyes studied Zara, and a welcoming smile lit her face.
Zara craned her neck to find the gold-armored knight with tawny hair and golden eyes smiling down at her.
“We know you care for Tarsius, even if you cannot love him as he desires.” Seriousness entered the white-robed man’s face. “He has a difficult task ahead, Zara. He needs help, someone to stand by him, to believe in him when no one else will. I hope that someone will be you.”
Tears welled in her eyes, doubts assailing her. “I can’t marry him, or I’ll be like her.”
He shook his head and smiled. “You are not your mother.”
Memories of the last few days pushed in, threatening the goodness his words offered.
“Eroshia deceived you, Zara. She knew if she pushed you into believing you are like your mother, you would kill yourself before allowing it to happen. She very nearly succeeded.”
Eroshia. The woman in the see-through clothes. “Why did she target me?”
“Without you, Tarsius could well be lost.”
Confusion filled her.
“If you die tonight, grief may take him. Eroshia knows Tarsius is the hope for the future. He alone possesses the knowledge locked deep in his soul to accomplish the task set before him. If he is destroyed, either through death or loss of faith, the church is lost.”
Zara’s eyes widened at the implication.
“Tarsius is the last hope for restoring the church to its former glory.” His gaze touched the two at her head and feet. “With each failure, love has grown weaker. With each failure, evil has grown stronger.”
“Can you kill Ray’din?”
“It is not permitted.” He shook his head.
“Why not?”
He chuckled. “Even we must obey rules. The balance is delicate. Mortals prosper or suffer depending on that balance. In the last five hundred years, Ray’din has gained the upper hand. There is more evil than good. Without good, evil will destroy itself and humanity with it. It cannot do otherwise. Evil is suspicious and untrusting of even itself. Only with goodness as a balance can it hope to survive.”
“Then destroy it.”
“Just as evil needs good, good needs evil. For now. Without evil to keep mortals humble, to give them purpose, they would soon be lost in their self-righteousness and take goodness for granted.”
Her thoughts immediately flew to Tarsius’ father.
“Yes. Skarahl has been so long buried in the goodness around him that he forgot the troubles of those unseen. But he is remembering. You reminded him.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I have tried for some time to get his attention, but it took you to make him realize what he was doing to himself, his family, and this church.” His grip tightened on her hand.
Warmth suffused her, chasing away aches and discomforts.
“I believe you could be of great help to Tarsius. I ask only that you help where you can. Nothing more.” He shrugged. “A simple request, really.”
Requests were never that simple. Old suspicion surfaced again.
He smiled. “I ask nothing more, Zara.” He waited patiently for her answer.
If she was to stay until the time Vil’joh had alluded to, then she could help Tarsius. She nodded.
His free hand touched her face briefly, and he was gone.
Cygnet returned to her previous form. Zara knew Jerrod had, too. The shuffle of footsteps and murmurs reached her ears. A tear ran down Shin’til’s cheek. Candle flames danced. The world had returned to normal.
Vil’joh stood at her feet beside Cygnet, a troubled frown on his face. What worried him?
She took a deep breath, unhampered by pain or constriction. Her gaze collided with Philip’s, whose eyes were wide with shock.